Brennus_A Scottish Time Travel Romance

by Hazel Hunter

  “Ruadri and Taran went to the midlands this morning to buy horses from the Clan McAra,” Brennus said as he brought a large bundle wrapped in new linen and put in on his chair. “They have more than even we need, but the laird refused to sell a single mount to them.”

  She wondered why he was fiddling with the bundle when he could be putting his hands on her. “Why not?”

  “The McAra told Ruadri that he must first meet the clan’s chieftain and his lady wife.” Brennus took a long, shining length of silver-embroidered emerald fabric from the bundle and shook it out. “I had this fetched from a trading ship.”

  Althea looked at the gorgeous gown, which had intricate stitching over yards of fine silk, and an over skirt of white lace so thin it looked like mist. She’d never seen a more beautiful garment, and it made her so angry she wanted to slap him.

  This was what he had for her. A dress.

  “It’s very pretty,” she told him. “So who’s going to wear it and pretend to be your lady wife? It might fit Taran, but it’ll be a little short, and with those shoulders he’ll probably rip the sleeve seams. Or maybe you can send him to hire a village woman willing to act the part. Because there’s no substitute for a real medieval woman, is there?”

  “’Tis meant for you.” Brennus draped the gown over his chair. “You’re angry with me.”

  “No, Chieftain, this is more like furious.” She didn’t get to the chamber door before he did, however. “Step aside. I’m sleeping somewhere else tonight.”

  Brennus reached behind his back and dropped the bolt bar on the door. “First explain this to me.”

  A short laugh escaped her. “You want me to dress up and pretend to be your lady. Your wife. Just to get horses for the clan, so we can rescue the others, and I can go back with them to my time. You really can’t wait to get rid of me, can you?”

  “You cannae stay,” he countered. “You told me yourself.”

  “That’s the plan.” She went over, grabbed the gown and nearly hurled it into the fireplace. But that was what Sharan would have done, and she wasn’t her mother. Carefully she folded the voluminous dress and placed it back in the linen wrapping. “Unfortunately, I’m not your wife, Brennus. I’m not your lady. You’ve made it clear that I’m never going to be, so I really don’t think I can act the part.” The sound of metal clinking made her look back at him.

  Brennus took a pair of shackles from under the pillow on his bed. He looked down at them for a long time, and then wordlessly held them out to her.

  Althea marched over to him, snatching the cuffs and chain and throwing them across the room. They crashed into the wall and shattered, falling in icy chunks to the floor.

  “I’m not a pleasure lass, either,” she told him as she moved to the end of the bed and took off her jacket. Stepping out of her sneakers, she said, “You want me, fine. You’re going to have to deal with a real woman.” She jerked her shirt over her head, and unfastened her jeans, shoving them down until she could kick them off with her socks. “No chains, no ritual facking, no relieving of needs. Just you and me, making–” Big hands grabbed her and tossed her face-down on the bed. “Love.”

  Brennus flipped her over, pinning her under him with his body as he tore off her bra and ripped away her panties. He dragged her wrists up above her head. “You would be my woman?”

  Althea had never seen such dark torment in his eyes. All her anger melted away. “I am yours, Bren. I have been for a while now. Maybe since the first time you kissed me.”

  He buried his face in her hair, his body shaking over hers. Slowly he turned his head, gliding his mouth over the curve of her ear and along her jaw. He kissed the corner of her lips, and then covered her mouth with his.

  Althea met his tongue with hers, tasting heat and man, and groaned as he took her mouth. He kissed her with shattering passion, hungry and demanding, nothing held back, everything she wanted. She felt her breasts swell and her thighs knot as an unbearable need consumed her, unlike anything she’d ever felt. Wrapping her legs around his, she lifted her hips to rub herself against the thick ridge of his erection.

  Brennus released her wrists and pushed himself up on his knees to yank off his tunic. The sight of his wide, hard chest made her reach out so she could feel all that glorious muscle under her hands. The moment she touched his ink the scars on her back began to pulse with a delicious sensation, as if they were being caressed.

  He moved off the bed to strip the rest of his clothes, and then he stood looking down at her. The long, thick column of his penis had grown so erect it throbbed against his lower belly, and for a moment she wondered if she’d taken on more than she could handle. It had been over a year since the last time she’d made love. But this was Brennus, and he was magnificent, and her body was so ready for him her inner thighs were already slick. Althea stretched, parting her legs as she turned toward him.

  “Come here,” she said, holding out her hand. When he took it, she drew him back to her, cradling his hips with her thighs and pressing her breasts against his tightly-pebbled nipples. She waited for him to move, and when he didn’t she said, “You can do anything you want. Touch any part of me you’d like.”

  He placed his hand over her breast, and his fingers trembled. “I’d put my mouth on you.”

  She tucked her hand around his neck and guided his lips to her nipple. He pressed a kiss there before he took her in his mouth, laving her with his tongue before he sucked on her.

  The pull of his mouth made the throbbing need grow intense, and she gripped his hair, pushing her breast against his lips so he’d take more. “Yes, like that. Oh, that’s so good.”

  He released her nipple with a soft pop and moved to suck at her other breast. His arm slid under her, lifting her shoulders from the bed to drape her over his forearm. His fingers rubbed her wet peak and trailed down over the lower curve of her breast. His palm slid along her hip, where he kneaded her soft flesh, but he didn’t move lower.

  He was still chained by the past, Althea thought, and gripped his hand to guide it to her thigh. “Try here.” She parted her legs wider. “You might like it. It’s a fun place.”

  Brennus watched her face as he moved his hand higher. His fingers moved over her, exploring her folds and the slickness of her arousal. When he grazed her distended clit she couldn’t help moaning, and he returned his fingers to caress the hard little knot.

  “’Tis this wee gem that brings you to bliss,” he murmured.

  The way he touched her was making her crazy now. “I might just get there without it.”

  He pressed his thumb over the nub, circling it gently. “I’d kiss you here until you beg me stop, but more I want to come into you.”

  “We’ve got all night,” she promised. “And I really want you inside me too.”

  Brennus shifted her onto her back, nestling between her thighs. His hand shook as he guided the swollen dome of his cockhead to her, fitting it in place before he braced himself over her. “Althea. My woman.”

  “Yours.” She rolled her hips to lodge him deeper. “Now take me, please.”

  He sank into her, one slow inch at a time, his big body so tense every muscle bulged from the strain. At the same time his eyelids drooped, and his lips parted, his expression that of a man discovering an ecstasy he’d never known.

  “Your quim is so soft and tight on me.” His chest heaved as his balls pressed against her, his shaft engulfed by her to the root. “Fack, I’ll spill if I move.”

  The tight, hot stretching of her pussy around him had Althea panting. “Look at me, Bren.” When he did she gripped his cock from within, tightening and easing as she massaged his length. “Feel that? That’s you and me. That’s all that matters.”

  Her words broke the last of Brennus’s chains, and he pressed her down, his hands gripping her shoulders as he drew back and thrust deep inside her. She cried out as the brutal stroke sent a flood of sensations pouring through her belly and breasts, and then he was plunging back
again, over and over as he fucked her.

  His mouth grazed hers before he tucked his hot face against her neck, his hand taking her breast and roughly caressing it in time with his strokes.

  The slap of their slick skins and the scent of sex pushed Althea to the edge of climax, but she held back. She wanted to feel him jet into her as she came, to take his seed with her into that soul-rending explosion of delight. He’d always be her first that way, the only man to bring her such a joy.

  All of the candles in the room went dark as a brilliant light glowed around them. Althea saw his tattoo glowing an electric blue, and somehow knew the same bewildering illumination was coming from her scars. Excitement swelled impossibly huge inside her as the light coalesced into a shower of sparks that ran over their bodies.

  Brennus made a rough sound, and his cock worked inside her with heavier, harder thrusts. He lifted his head to look into her dazzled eyes, his own reflecting the sparks dancing over them. “For you, my lady.”

  He flung his head back as he came, his shaft swelling and jerking inside her. Althea clamped around him one last time and felt her own pleasure spin out of control and burst. She lost herself as her climax whirled around the spurts of his cream, taking them both in a maelstrom of rapture.

  When Althea finally came back to earth Brennus had shifted onto his side and held her as if he never intended to let her go again. Inside her body she could feel his shaft, still hard and ready to give her more. His hand stroked her hip with a slow possessiveness that made her smile.

  “I guess I could wear the dress now.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “Unless you have some reason to keep me naked and in this bed.”

  He tipped up her chin and gave her such a tender kiss that she shivered with new delight.

  “You ken what you’ve done for me, my lady. Anything you desire is yours.” His mouth hitched. “But I dinnae reckon Taran will wear it.”

  “Okay,” she said. He was only asking her to play a part, but it would give her a little to dream about when she did go back to her time. “When do we go meet the McAra?”

  “On the morrow.” He tugged her leg up over his hip and gripped her bottom as he pushed deeper inside her. “Now, on that reason to keep you here.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  WAKING FROM A deep, dreamless sleep, Brennus felt an unfamiliar weight wedged against his shoulder. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know it was Althea, sleeping beside him. He lay quietly for a time, listening to her breathe and feeling her skin warming his. The scent of her had changed since last night. He could smell himself on her now. That, too, gave him no small pleasure.

  At last he looked upon her, tucked beneath his arm, her cheek pressed to his skinwork. Her flame-red hair, rumpled by his hands, lay in a soft, bright cloud around her pretty face. He’d never seen a woman look so contented, but then all he knew of women were pleasure lasses. They’d been solemn, as befitted their task, performing a necessary duty with the Pritani’s most dangerous beasts. Some had been fearful, others gripped by lust, but all of them had looked upon Brennus without a flicker of affection or kindness.

  Now Althea slept beside him, as trusting as a wife with her husband. As if he were no more than an ordinary warrior, abed with his lady.

  The Chieftain of the Skaraven would never be ordinary or a husband. But as a man Brennus yearned for that now, if only to have that simple life with her. To protect and care for her. To take her to bed every night, to love her and wake every morning like this. To watch her belly swell with his bairns, and then to see her suckle them at her breast. To raise their sons and daughters and grow old together. To lay beside her in the ground, together even after death. That might have been their life, had he and Althea been born to this time. Just a man and woman, destined to meet and to love.

  The raven on his shoulder turned its head and looked upon Althea. Its eyes glittered as it then beheld Brennus.

  You’ve a second life, the clan, and freedom, a scratchy voice said from within. ’Twill be as you shall have it, Chieftain. Yet you remain bound to what you’ve been. Did your mate teach you naught?

  Brennus carefully eased away from Althea, and silently rose to dress. His skinwork stung like nettles on torn flesh, but the pain was nothing compared to his own shame. He looked back at his lady for a long moment before he left his chamber and made his way to the great hall.

  Every member of the clan stood waiting for him, their eyes narrowed and their bodies stiff. Cadeyrn would not meet his gaze, nor Ruadri, who clutched the stone vial he wore around his neck.

  “Fair morning, Chieftain,” Taran greeted him, his expression resigned.

  “My baws ’tis fair.” Kanyth came forward, his hands wrapped in crusted bandages. “Threeday I work without rest, and you send the raven to wake me? For what? To take up the hammer with my teeth?”

  “Your spirit drove every one of us from our beds, Chieftain,” Cadeyrn said stiffly. “No’ even the sentries and patrols couldnae remain on duty. The raven compelled us to assemble and wait on you.” He sounded tired and angry. “What does it want?”

  Brennus picked up a bucket of water from the hearth and dropped it on the long table. He then took his half-brother by the arm and dragged him over to it.

  “We yet live as warrior-slaves. We hide from the world in Dun Mor. We hate those who bred, trained and betrayed us. We turn our backs on the innocent, and their suffering. We’ve become cowards.” He thrust Kanyth’s hands into the water.

  The Weapons Master howled, and then went completely still. He raised his hands and tore away the dripping bandages, revealing them to be whole and unmarked. “Fack me. What magic is this?”

  “’Tis yours, Ka. Water heals our wounds now and takes us wherever we wish to journey. We cannae age or sicken or die easily. The Skaraven shall never again suffer as we once did. And what do we with these grand gifts?” Brennus dumped the water on the floor. “Naught.”

  The Weapons Master flexed his hands. “Now that you’ve shown me the water healing, I’ll be glad to use the bucket.”

  “’Tis no’ about that,” Cadeyrn said and came to stand before Brennus. “Ruadri parleyed many gifts and goods from the tree-knowers. Mayhap some were bespelled to bring their old warrior-slaves to heel.”

  “You ken that the druids cannae control our battle spirits,” Brennus countered. “’Tis our power, no’ theirs. As for bringing us to heel, we’ve done that for them. Free men dinnae cower and hide from evil. They fight it.”

  The clansman all looked at each other, their expressions filled with anger, but their eyes dark with shame.

  “The Skaraven have been made immortal so that we might live as we choose. ’Tis time we become free men in truth, and take wives, and build a new life for the clan. Last night my lady agreed to play my wife for the McAra.” He looked up as a shadow stretched out over the clan, taking on the shape of a giant raven. “I dinnae want Althea to pretend it. She’s my woman, and if she’ll have me, I shall marry her.”

  “Shouldn’t you be proposing to me?” a wry, sweet voice asked.

  Brennus turned to see his lady, resplendent in the emerald gown, walking toward him. She had put up her hair in woven braids that gleamed like a fiery crown. “I didnae wish to wake you.”

  “That’s okay.” She hunched her shoulders. “The raven did.”

  “My Gods,” Kanyth muttered. “If we can take wives half as lovely, I’ll fight evil.” He yelped as Cadeyrn smacked the back of his head. “I cannae help it. Look at her. She’s a facking princess.”

  “Scientist,” Althea drily corrected him. “But I do clean up nicely.” She regarded Brennus as she came to his side and tucked her hand in his.

  The raven soared down to perch on Brennus’s arm and spread its wings over him and Althea. It shimmered with blue light before it dissolved away.

  “With freedom comes obligation,” the chieftain said. “’Tis for us to fight the evil that has come to destroy our world, for as immortals only we have
the power to defeat them. ’Tis the path I choose.” He met Cadeyrn’s scowling gaze. “No’ for the sake of druid kind. I fight for my lady and the others being held. For the mortals the famhairean intend to slaughter. To honor all those who have died at their hands.” He scanned the faces around him. “Will you fight with me?”

  Taran dropped to his knee. “Bràithrean an fhithich,” he said, his quiet voice booming through the silent hall.

  All around him the Skaraven began to kneel, echoing the battle cry. Kanyth grinned like a boy at Althea as he joined them. Soon every man in the hall knelt before Brennus, except Cadeyrn, who stood looking at Althea, and Ruadri.

  Brennus knew he’d never prevail over the giants without his second or his shaman. “Brothers?”

  “If ’tis your wish,” Ruadri said as he lumbered forward and knelt before him. “I fight with my chieftain.”

  The War Master followed suit, but when he looked up he again inspected Althea. Then he met Brennus’s gaze, and his own turned cold. “I fight with my brothers. As we yet need horses, I will go and prepare for our journey to the midlands.” He stood up and leaned close to say just for his ears, “Only ken this. If you forget yourself, even once, I shall gut you.” He stalked off.

  “Okay,” Althea said as she watched him go. “I kind of get the chaining thing now. What was that about?”

  He knew but telling her would only make it worse. “Cadeyrn reminds me to remember my duty.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Dinnae fret. He’ll have no reason.”

  Brennus sent Kelturan and the cooks to bring the morning meal, and sacks of food for the patrols and sentries to take with them. Bottles of uisge beatha began to appear, and the men toasted him and Althea with the whiskey as if they’d already taken vows. Although it was no time for celebrations, he let the men enjoy their drink while he sent Taran after the War Master.

  “They’re no’ married yet, you fools,” Kelturan snapped as he thumped the platters on the table and snatched a uisge beatha bottle from a laughing clansman. He brought a bowl of Althea’s odd oat mash to her and handed the bottle to Brennus. “I dinnae ken if ’tis a wise match for you, Chieftain. The lady eats like a pregnant sow and has a tongue like a boar’s tusk.”