Mask of the Highlander ~ A Gods of the Highlands Prequel (2nd Edition): A Medieval Paranormal Highland Romance (Expanded Version)

by Bambi Lynn

  She stood there, looking back and forth from him to the hidden door. "What are we doing here?"

  Her voice trembled. Ty ached to soothe her concerns, but nothing he could say would accomplish that. Soon enough she would trust him, and if not sooner, then later.

  He smiled and jerked his head toward the mass of brambles that hid the cottage. "I have something for you…inside." He reached through the brush and pushed the door open. Without waiting, he went inside and began lighting candles. By the time she joined him, the room was bathed in a soft glow that revealed a hideaway very different from the one they had visited the last time.

  Kenna stopped just inside the threshold, a gasp of surprise the only sound in the small cottage. Ty busied himself starting a fire in the hearth, giving her time to look around. He squatted before the fire, staring at the growing flames. He ached to see her face, to know if she was pleased with what he had done.

  He tensed when he felt her behind him. His body was already so hard for her. His craving surprised him at times. He was like a man starved, and she the only sustenance that could satisfy him. His skin tingled when she placed her hand on his shoulder.

  "You did this?"

  He stood, towering over her and filling the small room. "Lá breithe shona dhuit," he whispered.

  She frowned at the phrase. "It's my birthday?" He nodded. She looked around with newfound surprise. "And all this…is for me?"

  'All this' was a complete transformation of the sanctuary she had escaped to as a child. Gone were the few pieces of broken furniture, the cobwebs, the decades of dirt and neglect. The place had been scoured until nary a ball of dust remained, even the tiny window allowed in a scant amount of the remaining sunlight. The dilapidated furniture had been replaced with a table, two short stools and a bed frame, a fresh inviting tick atop the floorboards. A bundle of primroses filled a vase in the middle of the table, filling the room with a spicy, comforting fragrance that reminded Ty of spring.

  He smiled down at her. "I suppose fairies must have fixed the place up since the last time ye were here." He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. "D'ye like it, then?"

  Tears sparkled on her lashes, and he could tell she had trouble speaking. He almost laughed. That must be a first. She laid her palm against his cheek, smoothing the patch that covered his eye and staring deep into the other one.

  "No one has ever done anything like this for me. Thank you."

  He cocked his eyebrow at her, pressing her with his most devilish grin. "I hope ye have some other way of showin' yer thanks?"

  She looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes, her lips cocked into a saucy grin. "Ye can bet I do." She sank to her knees, clasping his naked thighs beneath his kilt and running her hands up to squeeze the cheeks of his arse.

  Ty sucked in his breath, surprised and delighted. He had not expected such an intimate expression of gratitude. But he welcomed it nevertheless.

  Ty groaned in pleasure as she kneaded his backside. Her dainty hands made goose flesh rise on his thighs as she slid the tips of her fingers around the sensitive skin of his hips. He squeezed his good eye shut, afraid of coming too soon. He wanted to savor this, imagine he could stay here with her forever. The vision of her, selfishly pleasuring him, made him yearn, just once, for someone to love him.

  She squeezed his shaft in a delicate grip, cupping and kneading his sac with her other hand. She released him and fumbled with the hem of his kilt. It was all he could do not to cry out when she took him into her mouth.

  He gasped in shock. No one had ever done this to him before. He held his breath. The pleasure of her warm mouth engulfing his cock, her delicate lips squeezing around him, pulling him deeper and deeper into her, was almost more than he could bear. He had never known it could be like this.

  Love for her hit him like a falling boulder. It boiled up in him, the heat so intense he came immediately. To his shock and pleasure, she did not pull away, spewing and gagging as he would have expected. Instead she suckled him, draining him of every drop until he could take no more.

  He cupped her cheeks in his hands. She was so vulnerable. What must it have cost her to trust him like this, his brave highland lassie?

  She ran her hands up his thighs as she stood, sliding her body up his. Ty dipped his head down to capture her mouth. He slipped his tongue between her lips. He groaned as a possessive yen escaped him. He had never held claim to anything in his life, but this woman was his. He had never wanted anything so badly.

  "I love that ye taste of me." He swiped his tongue over her swollen lips. He continued to hold her face in his hands as they stumbled to the bed. Kenna's hands were busy removing her clothing. She was completely naked by the time she bumped the back of her knees against the bed frame and fell back upon it with a tinkling laugh. Ty poised over her, his arms locked on either side, and drank in the glorious sight of her perfect body.

  He dropped down and caught a nipple between his lips. It hardened into a tight bud against the roof of his mouth. Kenna groaned, sending a jolt of lust straight to his core. He sank into her.

  His throat went dry. Ty did not move, ready to explode inside her, his earlier release not nearly enough to satisfy the lust in his heart for this woman, his woman.

  When he had the turmoil under control, he pulled out of her, thrusting back inside and starting a rhythm that had her moaning and calling out his name. He kissed her, pouring out all the passion he'd been missing in all his long lonely life. As he did, he came with such intensity he thought he would go blind.

  Kenna's release exploded around him, draining him. He pulled back and stared at her, savoring the first real happiness he had ever known.

  His overwhelming passion spent, he was overcome with fear. How would she react to him now that it was all over? Would she once again have that look of mistrust, that look that waited for him to strike?

  Or would she look at him in a way no one ever had before?

  With love.

  ***

  Kenna lifted her face to the sun, warm for this time of year. The plod of her horse could easily rock her to sleep if she was not careful. She was tired after the exhaustive night of lovemaking she had shared with Ty.

  She smiled a shy smile. She had allowed herself to be brazen, to experience the joy of being with a man who was tender, attentive. Selfless. Her heart soared. She tried to squelch it. She remembered a time when she would have been afraid to touch him, for him to touch her. She asked herself again how he could have changed so much but shrugged off her misgivings. Five years was a long time.

  She wanted to believe in him. There was so much more to him than the sadistic brute she married or the cockster he now pretended to be. He was raw on the inside, vulnerable. What had happened to crush him so deeply? She sensed soul-wrenching loneliness in him and, despite the past, wanted to fill that void. She wanted to comfort the man he had become, to hold him close and show him the love she was capable of if only he would let her.

  The idea startled her so much she had to quickly right her seat before she fell from her horse. Could she ever love him? Kenna slid her gaze to where he rode beside her. She had to catch her breath every time she looked at him. He had grown into such a handsome man. Battle scars did not distract from his rugged features but instead gave him a look of manliness that called to everything in her that was female. Silky, strands of his long hair caught the wind and lifted behind him, tendrils of seduction reaching out for her.

  Kenna could see beneath those good looks to the man beneath, and thus far, she liked what she saw.

  Aye, she could love this man.

  Suddenly, Ty stiffened. He slowed his horse, edging closer to her and scanning the hillocks surrounding them. Before Kenna could question him, they were surrounded by a band of men she did not recognize. Her heart fell as a brush of fear skittered up the back of her neck. She was little relieved that the men were clad in Vass colors. She well knew the propensity for violence sp
orted by her husband's clan. She relaxed somewhat when she spotted a woman among them.

  "Greetings cousin," one of the men addressed Ty.

  Her husband did not return the greeting, but nodded at each of the men in turn. "A few days early for the gatherin', are ye not?"

  "Weel, yer father sent us on ahead to get yer sister settled before the others arrive."

  Kenna looked at the woman, Ty’s sister. She recalled her name was Mira, but they had never met. Mira had not been present at her brother’s wedding. Her slight frame remained stiff as sword. She chewed her bottom lip with relentless assault. She had the same dark hair as Ty and bore a striking resemblance to their father. She kept her eyes downcast but glanced up at Kenna for a heartbeat before looking away again.

  Kenna saw anxiety in that brief glance and wondered what torment this wisp of a girl had suffered at the hands of her older brother. It could not have been easy growing up a girl in the Vass household. Mira did not know this new Ty. She would only remember him as the bully he surely had been.

  Kenna could well understand Mira's unease. Little more than a girl, she seemed small and insignificant among the men who were there to protect her. And a surly looking lot they were, Ty's clansmen.

  Kenna shuddered.

  Ty pushed his way through them until his stallion drew up alongside Mira's. He stood up in his stirrups and pressed a kiss just above her brow. Mira's eyes very nearly popped right out of her head.

  Kenna would have found the scene touching if not for the realization that everyone else's attention was focused on her.

  There were eight in all. One of the men spurred his horse to a walk. He did not meet her gaze as he moved around her in a slow arc. Instead he considered her from a distance that did little to make her feel safe. His lecherous grin revealed teeth the color of aged wood.

  She jumped when someone else from the group spoke. "I hope the fucking Clearys are no' here yet. If we're t' have a chance in hell -"

  The man was quickly shushed with a punch to the shoulder from a nearby comrade and a mumbled, "That's his wife, ye daft bastard."

  All eyes turned on her in that instant. The newcomers looked at her with considerably more interest and closed the circle around her.

  "She given ye a Cleary bastard yet, Ty? Yer father promised some of us a go once ye had an heir." The man who had been circling her like a hawk over a trapped rabbit drew closer.

  Kenna sucked in a sharp breath and looked again to her husband.

  Ty gave a quick, disgusted snort and took hold of Mira's horse. "Doona be vulgar. Ye'll not be getting' yer fucking cock anywhere near my wife." He turned and called to the others. "'Tis still an hour's ride to the castle."

  He let go of the horse when they reached Kenna. "The two of ye ride on. We'll be right behind."

  "But - " Kenna began.

  He cut her off with a scathing look. Ty was once again the scowling, frightening man she had married. There was an ugly twist to his mouth she recognized, and resented. He tugged at the sash of his kilt. "Do what I tell ye, Kenna."

  She seared him with an equally scathing look before wheeling her horse away and pressing her heels to the mare's flanks.

  She surprised herself by her audacity, but disappointment fueled her courage. This entire charade was a ruse to get her to relax her guard. But to what purpose? What were they up to? Was she being over active in her imaginings, or was her husband the ultimate deceiver?

  ***

  They arrived at the castle to find the Clearys already settled. Hackles rose as the warriors of Clan Vass invaded the hall, greeting their new comrades with fake joviality. They were loud, arrogant and genuinely overbearing. The Clearys tossed back seemingly good-natured insults, all the while keeping one hand on the hilt of their swords.

  Ty raked a hand through his hair. What next? His plan would never work if these unexpected interferences continued to drive him off course.

  He looked around for Kenna and spotted her across the room, caught up greeting cousins she likely had not seen in five years or more.

  His heart lurched. His plan could not fail. If it did, Clan Vass would rain down destruction on the Clearys, wiping them out with a single blow.

  His wife would be devastated.

  He could not let that happen. These past days with her had been like nothing he ever expected to experience. He was determined to bring peace to these lands, and win the heart of his wife.

  But he was not a fighter. He was a lover. He would have to deter the bitter feud by cunning and charm.

  Easily said when all he really wanted to do was slit his cousin's throat. The man's vulgarity and insult to Kenna were enough to challenge any man's honor. But the content of that insult instilled within him a vision that sent him into a mind-numbing rage. If he had not removed them from that situation, things could have gone very badly.

  Keeping his anger in check had been more difficult than he would have thought. He had never known jealousy, intrinsically aware of the danger in allowing it. He had known people who had gone mad coveting what others had.

  But as he watched her, a single avowal engulfed him. Kenna was his. Any man who insinuated otherwise would find himself in a pool of his own blood. Whatever happened, Liam Vass would not live to see another spring.

  He swallowed his anxiety and pasted on a smile that could subdue a Hun. "Greetings, brethren, and welcome." When he caught Kenna's eye, he inclined his head toward the door. "I'll leave ye all to spread yer blankets here in the hall." He turned and headed to the family's private rooms. Kenna close on his heels.

  As soon as he closed the door, she started on him. "What are you hiding?"

  He combed his hair back, again, searching for a cord to bind it. "Nothing," he said, moving objects around in his search. He picked up Kenna's brush, found nothing and dropped it with a frustrated sigh.

  Kenna came forward and pulled open a drawer. After riffling through a box inside, she stuck a length of leather between her teeth and reached up to gather the mass of hair behind his neck. Dividing it into three sections, she began plaiting it down his back.

  "There is something you are not telling me," she said.

  Where do I begin? Ty closed his eyes, silently pleading with her not to ask questions. He could not tell her, not now. She still had that look of mistrust about her. He may have made the hopeful assertion, but she wasn't all his.

  Not yet.

  Soon, however, she would be. When this gathering was over, his sister betrothed to the laird's son, and Kenna's family safely back home, then he would tell her the truth. He could lie to the world, but not the woman he loved. He would trust his fate to her. He only prayed that she was true.

  ***

  Kenna had no sooner secured the knot at the end of his braid than a ruckus erupted in the hall. Pulling his sword from the sheath at his waist, Ty rushed to the door and yanked it open. She could not keep up as he raced ahead of her.

  Skidding to a halt at the entrance to the hall, she cried out at the chaos. She did not want to see what she was seeing. Her insides grew cold as horror gripped her. This couldn't be happening.

  Her mother's sister's son lay sprawled not far from her. His sightless eyes stared up at the rafters, his entrails a mass on the rushes beside him. More bodies were strewn around the room, most of them wearing Cleary colors.

  She backed away, clutching her stomach and keeping one hand over her mouth to stifle the bile that threated to overwhelm her. She turned and fled back the way she had come, praying Isla was in her room.

  She burst in. Mrs. Dingwell screamed at the sudden intrusion. She hovered in a corner shielding Isla. She came to her feet as soon as she recognized her. Kenna wasted no time. She scooped Isla up into her arms and secreted her away through a door hidden behind a tapestry, Mrs. Dingwell right behind her.

  They ran through the darkness, Kenna cradling her daughter and choking back tears. He had betrayed her, lured her family here for slaughter. She swallowed hard. How c
ould she have been such a fool? A person would have to be daft to believe another could change so much.

  She coughed on a sob and pushed through the secret door a quarter mile from the castle. They broke out into the shadows of dusk, their escape hidden by the hillocks surrounding Castle Vass. She looked back, pausing at the top of a knoll and hugging Isla tight. She let her tears come freely now, anger turning to disappointment. Nearly a month ago, she had watched him ride over these hills, dreading every heartbeat that brought him closer.

  He made her believe he was changed. She believed because she desperately wanted to.

  But it was all a ruse. Her dream was shattered. She brushed away her tears. She would not mourn for a lie. She turned and headed for the trees, leaving Mrs. Dingwell to keep up as best she could. Kenna would try to intercept any other members of her clan before they crossed into Vass lands. Otherwise she and Isla would be all that was left of the Clearys.

  Chapter Four

  Kenna sat rigid, unable to escape her surroundings. The atmosphere, ripe with sorrow, erupted occasionally with abrupt calls for vengeance or a sudden wail of despair.

  She was in the hall of her grandfather's house at Braemore. It was not Castle Vass, but it was a stronghold of immense authority nonetheless. Surviving members of her family had gathered to mourn the loss of loved ones. In the three days since she had been home, the tension had only grown.

  Home. She felt like an outsider even though many had welcomed her back into the fold like a lost lamb. A few looked at her with an expression of sympathy, well knowing of Ty Vass' penchant for cruelty.

  Others regarded her with profound conviction. Had she not assured them of their safety, by her own hand? Had she allied with her husband then turned sides when it was in her best interest?

  She was a Cleary, her daughter was a Cleary. How could anyone believe she was capable of such treachery? It was her grandfather who had been in league with the Munro, who insisted she marry into the Vass family. Was it her fault their plan to unite the clans had failed?