Mated By The Demon Collections: Paranormal Romance

by Riley Moreno

  “Are you ready, stranger?” he called out to the black knight. The black knight nodded in reply.

  “Are you ready, Lord Scott?” he shouted to Scott. Scott closed the visor of his helmet, and then he nodded too.

  “Then let this trial by combat commence!”

  Both knights leveled their lances and spurred their horses into a charge. The crowd drew in a collective breath of suspense as the horses with their riders thundered toward each other. Jane closed her eyes; she couldn't bear to watch this. It was too much for her, especially seeing as her very life depended on the outcome of this fight.

  With a mighty crash the riders clashed. Lord Scott's lance shattered against the black knight's shield, but the black knight's aim was steady and true, and the point of his lance smashed into Lord Scott's breastplate. The force of it wasn't enough to drive the point through the steel – the armor was too well-made for that – but it was a powerful enough blow to dent it heavily and send Lord Scott flying off the back of his horse, where he crashed to the ground and tumbled in a roll, churning up muddy bits of sod as he rolled. The crowd gasped and held their breath again, wondering if he had been seriously injured, or killed even. The expensive armor, however, had done its job and he stood up, shaky, but not seriously hurt.

  “Draw your sword, black knight!” he shouted at his opponent. “Draw your sword and fight me on foot!”

  The black knight, who had reached the opposite end of the field by now, turned his horse around and galloped back to the center. When he got near Lord Scott, he dismounted and drew his sword, and began to advance slowly on Lord Scott. The two knights circled each other for a while, and then Lord Scott darted forward with a lunging attack. The black knight turned Scott's blade away with an excellent block, and with a riposte he darted in and cut his sword viciously across Scott's shoulder, denting the armor and sending Scott stumbling back. Scott, however, still had plenty of fight left in him. He rushed forward again, but this time he was not so reckless with his attacks. He realized now that his opponent was a skilled fighter, so as he traded sword blows, blocking and attacking alternately, he began to look for weakness and bad habits in the black knight's technique. And sure enough, he found one; his opponent, when attacking from the right, would always leave his left completely exposed. He knew now, and he just had to get his timing right. He fought defensively for a few moments, inviting the black knight to attack.

  He did, and Scott surged forward with a sudden counter-attack, going straight for the left side of the black knight's exposed neck with a vicious cut – but the sword whistled through nothing but air, meeting nothing in its path. The black knight ducked with superhuman speed under the cut, and then tripped Scott up so that he landed flat on his back. Then, quick as a flash, he had the point of his sword pressed against Scott's throat. The whole opening up of his left side had been a trick, to fool Scott into going for that move. Now, Lord Scott was beaten, and completely at the mercy of this mysterious black knight.

  “I yield,” whispered Scott. “Please, please don't kill me. Jane is free, she is pardoned of her crime.”

  “That's not all I want from you,” hissed the black knight. “I want something else as well. And you'll give it to me in writing, or I swear I'll kill you right now. Call the scribe over!”

  “Scribe!” shouted Lord Scott. “Come here! And bring a damn quill and ink and paper!”

  “Good,” said the black knight. “Good.”

  The scribe arrived, breathing heavily from his sprint, but ready to write.

  “Write what I say, scribe,” commanded the black knight, keeping the point of his sword pressed against Lord Scott's throat.

  “As you command, sir,” replied the scribe as he prepared to write.

  “This is a pardon,” dictated the black knight, “ for my brother, Duncan MacDougal. I, Lord Scott MacDougal hereby pardon my brother for poaching one of the king's deer, because he did it to feed starving villagers, which surely nullifies the crime. Furthermore, since he is now pardoned, I now rescind my claim to our father's title and castle and lands, which by all legal rights now belong to our father's oldest son – my brother Duncan. I sign this pardon with my own hand.”

  The scribe scribbled all of this down.

  “Give him the paper,” said the black knight to the scribe, and the man did as he was told, handing the paper to Lord Scott.

  “Now you, you sign that pardon. Do it right now or this sword goes through your throat! It's my legal right to kill you right now if I want to, and I'll do it if you don't sign the paper!”

  “Alright, alright,” stammered Lord Scott. With a shaky hand he signed his name on the pardon.

  “Who the hell are you, and how do you know the truth about my brother?” asked Lord Scott.

  The black knight removed his sword from Scott's throat, and then took off his helmet. The crowd gasped with surprise as they saw his face, and Jane screamed with delight and joy.

  “I know the truth about your brother,” said the black knight, “because I am your brother.”

  “Duncan!” shouted Jane as tears started streaming down her cheeks. “Duncan!”

  Duncan snatched the pardon from his brother's hands, threw down his sword and ran across the field to where Jane was chained up.

  “Take those awful chains off her now!” he roared at the guards, flashing them the pardon. “She's free now! And what's more, I'm your new lord! And if anyone ever lays a finger on this woman again, his head will roll at my feet, you have my word on that!”

  “Duncan!” gasped Jane as the guards unlocked her chains. She ran over to him and wrapped her arms around him, crying all the while. “You're alive! You came back for me!”

  “You're the fire that keeps me alive, Jane,” he said as tears began to well in his own eyes. “I couldn't have carried on living, not without you.”

  “But... how?! The horse, the armor... And how did you survive the jump?”

  “I have many stories to tell, my love, and we'll have a lot of time to discuss them. But in short, this is what happened. I survived the jump into the pool because I aimed my body for its center, where I

  knew it would be deepest. Downstream, I was washed up onto the lands of a knight – a knight who my brother had long ago betrayed and cheated out of a lot of money. I offered this knight the chance for revenge and justice, if he could lend me his horse, his armor and his weapons – which, luckily for me, he gladly did. But even without his help, my first thought when I emerged from that pool was that I was coming back for you, even if it meant that I would have to fight my brother naked and unarmed. I would have done it for you, Jane.”

  “I know you would have.”

  “I'm so lucky to have a woman like you to be my wife. No, not just my wife... my lady! Lady MacDougal, ruler of these lands. That is who you will be, after we are married!”

  “And when shall we get married, Duncan?”

  “I think I see in a priest in the crowd. Yes, that's Father Tucker! Well, how about right now? Get on the horse with me, and we'll get all of these people to the cathedral. How does that sound?”

  Jane stood on her tiptoes – Duncan was even taller than usual, dressed in this armor – and kissed him slowly and passionately. The crowd cheered.

  “That sounds like the best idea I've ever heard!” she said. “Let's go!”

  THE END

  Highland Captor

  Highland Repress

  Highlander Romance

  By Riley Moreno

  GOD OF THE HIGHLANDS

  PROLOGUE

  It is the year 1815 when Ashley Mackenzie comes to Scotland to fulfill the wishes of her late mother who had left her home country to raise Ashley in England. Ashley arrives on the day of the Highland Games and almost immediately finds herself in the middle of a clan war. During the skirmishes between the Mackenzie clan and the united clans under the dynamic Kincaid chief Tristan, Ashley becomes a pawn as she is first taken captive by Tristan Kincaid and then abducted
by Lydell Mackenzie, the man she discovers is her biological father.

  Ashley falls prey to the savage allure of Tristan Kincaid, who comes to her rescue on more than one occasion, and the untamed Scottish Highlands becomes the backdrop for their passion. They are soon married, and Ashley’s subsequent pregnancy leads her to discover not only mounting passion for her husband, but great strength and courage that was alien to her nature.

  Tristan embarks on a quest for his sister Leana, who disappeared after he refused to allow her to encourage the courtship of Bruce Mackenzie - who was also never seen after Tristan imprisoned Leana in his castle, from where she escaped.

  When Tristan discovers the joys of approaching fatherhood, he experiences a growing need to find Leana and reunite her with Bruce Mackenzie, as he feels that it is unfair that he is so happy while his sister languishes in the Abbey where she has taken refuge.

  As the search for Leana commences, Ashley and Tristan find their love tested by the reappearance of Rona, a woman from Tristan’s past, and a pregnant Ashley shows courage under fire when she not only stands up to Rona but also confronts Lydell Mackenzie and reclaims her birthright. Lydell is forced to move to another location after restoring to Ashley the properties that were rightfully, hers.

  As Ashley faces her biological father on the battlefield, she is united with a half-brother whose existence she had been oblivious of…and when it transpires that he is Bruce Mackenzie, the man Tristan had kept away from his sister, but whom he wishes to reunite her with now, there is jubilation.

  Tristan and Bruce journey together to bring Leana back from the Abbey, Bruce and Leana are married, and Tristan and Ashley welcome their son, Kirk.

  CHAPTER I

  Ashley tossed and turned, the darkness closing in on her. There was a knot of fear in her stomach. Something was wrong. She sat up and turned on her bedside lamp, looking instinctively for Tristan by her side; panic engulfing her as she failed to see him. Then she remembered she was still in the Birthing Room and her heart leapt as her eyes fell on her newborn son Kirk, lying in the ornate crib that Tristan had commissioned for his firstborn. Kirk stirred and let out a full throated cry and Ashley smiled as she lifted him out of the crib and put him to her breast. She stroked the soft mat of red hair as he suckled hungrily, and lovingly examined his fingers and toes. She lowered Kirk back into the crib and went over to the open window, standing on tiptoe to look outside. The sky was still ablaze with stars and the sounds of revelry drifted up to her on the breeze. She returned to bed, overcome by post-birth weariness, and lay back against the pillows listening to the pipers and fiddlers, and wishing she was down in the grounds dancing with her husband. As with everything he did, Tristan infused so much passion into his dancing that people were mesmerized by him – most especially the women.

  Tristan threw back his head as he danced with his clansmen - the feeling of absolute euphoria he had experienced at the sight of his newborn son lending his movements an almost fluid intensity. Leana and Bruce stood hand in hand watching the Kincaid clansmen - a blur of green, red and black tartan – their feet moving in perfect harmony.

  ‘My brother looks more than ecstatic,’ Leana remarked.

  ‘Well, my sister has given him an heir!’ Bruce replied.

  Leana looked up at her husband. ‘You seem so much more content since you found Ashley.’

  ‘I can’t believe my good fortune in finding someone like her and discovering she’s my half-sister,’ Bruce said, shaking his head in wonder. ‘You should have seen her stand up to Lydell Mackenzie!’

  ‘She won the hearts of all the clans when she did that…and especially when she reclaimed what was hers and shared it with you.’

  Bruce’s eyes shone with emotion. ‘Who would do that? And we had only just met.’

  ‘Well, she was so happy to discover you were related because otherwise she had nobody to call her own.’

  ‘Well, as her brother, I vow to defend her with my life,’ Bruce said. Leana took his arm and caressed him with her eyes. ‘You are a good man, Bruce Mackenzie. How you and Ashley sprang from Lydell’s loins is a mystery. He is not worthy of you both.’

  Bruce shrugged. ‘I’m glad Lydell has gone. I felt disillusioned by the way he used me to serve his own ends.’

  ‘Come, let us not be melancholy,’ Leana said, ‘Let’s join in dancing the Reel.’

  They joined the circles of dancers, keeping time with the frenzied playing of the fiddlers, and after the Reel they wandered away hand in hand.

  ‘Look! Isn’t that…?’ Leana began to say, spotting a flaxen haired woman.

  ‘Rona!’ Bruce exclaimed.

  Recalling Ashley’s account of her encounter with the woman from Tristan’s past, months ago, Leana scanned the crowd for her brother, and saw him walk towards the woman they were talking about.

  ‘Bruce, my darling,’ Leana said, ‘I must go to Tristan’s defense. Come with me if you will.’

  ‘When did Rona return?’ He asked Leana. ‘And is she still trying to claim that her child is born of Tristan’s seed?’

  ‘She seems bent on destroying Tristan’s happiness, that’s for sure,’ Leana said grimly.

  ‘Well, I won’t let her cause Ashley any harm,’ Bruce said, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a firm, thin line. ‘She is most certainly bent on some mischief, or she wouldn’t have shown up on such an occasion… and in Ashley’s absence.’

  Leana hurried over to where her brother stood talking with Rona.

  ‘What are you doing here Rona?’

  ‘I’ve merely come to celebrate this happy occasion like everyone else gathered here,’ Rona said provocatively, flashing her amber eyes.

  ‘I think not,’ Leana said. She glanced at Tristan. ‘Are you quite alright, brother? Perhaps you should go inside and check on how your wife is doing?’

  Tristan nodded, but Rona seized the moment. ‘Why go check on your wife now? She has done what you needed her to. She has produced your heir and now you can cast her aside for another. Isn’t that what you do, Tristan Kincaid?’

  ‘No, that is not what I do, Rona. And most certainly not to my wife.’

  ‘You did that to me. Tossed me aside after I had borne your child.’

  ‘That child is not of my blood, Rona!’ Tristan growled.

  ‘You wish to think so, but I know she is. You rejected her because she is a girl.’

  ‘I rejected her because she is not of me,’ Tristan repeated.

  ‘Listen Rona,’ Bruce snarled, ‘I remember there were other men warming your bed while Tristan was busy trying to keep Leana from seeing me. I remember that his preoccupation with standing guard over his sister and ensuring she didn’t leave Lennox Castle, was the reason you chose to entertain other men because you thought it would lure him back. Everybody knew you were taking other lovers and when your plan went awry and you found yourself with child instead, you decided to try and claim the most powerful and wealthy of your former lovers as the father of your bastard. The fact is, Rona, you can’t fool anybody. Everyone made the calculation in their minds and they know that your child is not Tristan’s.’ Bruce paused for breath and continued, ‘If you persist in coming here and disturbing our peace, I will take it upon me personally to keep you away.’

  ‘What will you do Bruce Mackenzie?’ Rona hissed, ‘Do you want me to tell your wife here of how you drowned your sorrows when she ran away to the Abbey?’

  Bruce paled a little, but rallied quickly. ‘Tell her whatever you wish, Rona. Leana knows I would never do anything to hurt her.’

  ‘Except come to me and beg me to take you to my bed.’

  ‘It was you who came to me, Rona, and well you know it. Do you seek to lie about me too?’

  Leana stepped up to Rona and drew herself up to her full height. ‘Do you think you can cast a slur on my husband’s name, you whore?’

  ‘I am no whore!’ Rona shouted, ‘Use that word on your sister in law!’

  Leana swung her ar
m and caught Rona on the jaw, but Rona was used to brawls in the local taverns. She clawed at Leana’s hair and face. Tristan and Bruce sprang forward as one, and pulled Rona back, dragging her cursing and screaming from the grounds of Lennox Castle.

  As the two men walked back, Bruce turned to his brother in law in the darkness. ‘Tristan,’ Bruce said, ‘Do not be angry at me for asking you this. We know you have changed since Ashley came into your life, but you were different before her. Is there any chance that Rona’s claims are true?’

  Tristan stopped in his tracks and faced Bruce angrily. ‘Do you not believe me either?’ He stomped away and Bruce walked swiftly after him. ‘I do want to believe you Tristan. We just have to make sure that this woman is not going to persist with these accusations otherwise sooner or later people are going to start wondering.’

  ‘And will you be one of the people wondering, Bruce?’ Tristan asked angrily, ‘Yes, I did bed that woman, but you know how to count, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Bruce said, ‘I know how to count, Tristan. But I am still apprehensive.’ Bruce looked grave. ‘Women like that will stop at nothing to get what they want. Rona will even stoop to getting false witnesses to implicate you if she so desires.’

  ‘I am not afraid,’ Tristan said, though all at once the joy of the day had been eclipsed.

  Rona watched him from the periphery of Lennox Castle, tossing her flaxen hair, and smiling triumphantly. If she couldn’t prove that her child was born from Tristan’s seed, at least she could return frequently to torment him and undermine his happiness, she thought, walking away.

  Tristan fumed silently as the revelry continued, though he appeared in good humor as the Kincaid clansmen lifted him onto their shoulders and marched him around to the beat of drums and the plaintive wail of the bagpipes. Rona turned around to watch her former lover, feeling a sudden pang. She had loved him well enough, but her appetite for men was considerable and she had never been able to stay faithful, even leaving his room at Lennox Castle after a night of raw passion, to satisfy her cravings with other men. One of her lovers had told her it was a disease; that she would ask to be taken again and again, without experiencing the satisfaction and fulfillment that she sought. Tristan would have thought differently of her if she had stayed faithful to him, she knew, because he had often told her he loved her. She was after all of good birth, and her only failing was that she had not learned how to stay true to just one man. Rona had used her beauty to entrap lovers like insects in her web, and used her skill under the sheets to steal men from their wives.