Dark Sword 05: Shadow Highlander

by Donna Grant

  He knew she did, and that’s what was killing him. To hear her speak of Deirdre and MacLeod Castle had left him speechless, but it was when she described the mountains and the secret entrance that he realized she must have been referring to the place she had lived as a young girl.

  What worried Galen most of all was if Reaghan somehow remembered who she was. Would she leave? Set out on her own?

  A strange, hollow ache began in his chest just thinking of a world without Reaghan in it. Though he didn’t want to think about why, he knew he needed Reaghan. He needed her, hungered for her, as he did the sun on his face and air in his lungs. He couldn’t allow anything to happen to her no matter what.

  “You know, don’t you?” she said. “You know what happened to my memories.”

  Galen knew in the moment she looked at him with her somber gray eyes that he wouldn’t be able to lie to her. “I do.”

  “Is it as terrible as I fear?”

  He took her hand and began to walk. “I know the elders kept it from you because they care about you.”

  “Please. Tell me,” she said, her voice breaking.

  Galen laced his fingers with hers and took a deep breath. It was tearing her to pieces not knowing, and if she was going to lose her memories, he didn’t see why the truth should be kept from her.

  “Reaghan, you put a spell upon yourself in an effort to hide something from Deirdre. The headaches are caused because you are about to lose your memories, as you do every ten years.”

  She missed a step, but kept walking, her head held high. He was amazed at the strength he saw. Despite what she had learned, she didn’t crumble to the ground, not that he would have thought less of her if she had. But it proved how strong she was that she could keep walking. Galen saw the tears swimming in her eyes, and it tore at him.

  “That is why I see events from the past in my dreams?” she asked.

  “I believe so.”

  “This has been happening for a very long time based on what I see in my dreams. How long do I have before my memories are gone?”

  Galen squeezed her hand. “I’m no’ sure.”

  She stopped and turned to him. “I don’t want to forget you.”

  “You willna,” he promised. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  Galen wiped away a tear before he covered her lips with his own.

  TWENTY-ONE

  MacLeod Castle

  Broc braced a shoulder against the stone wall and watched Sonya, his eyes feasting on her beauty. She had her face turned toward the forest as she leaned as far over the side of the battlements as she could without falling over.

  After a moment she scowled and lowered her head. Broc had hidden in the shadows many times over the last weeks watching Sonya, always watching. He knew she had been trying to listen to the trees that spoke to her, but evidently she hadn’t been able to hear them.

  He pushed away from the wall and stepped from the shadows. By the way Sonya held herself rigid, he could tell something was wrong. “What is it?”

  She whirled to face him, the skirts of her green gown tangling in her legs. Sonya braced her hands behind her on the stones. “Broc.”

  He held back the shiver that raced down his spine at the sound of his name on her lips. She whispered it, almost as if she didn’t believe he was there.

  Broc slowly walked to stand in front of her. “Sonya, what is it? Did the trees tell you something?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The pain in her gaze was like a punch to his gut. “Is it Galen and Logan?”

  She lifted her hand to press it to her forehead, and he saw how it shook. “The trees are trying to talk to me. I’m too far away to hear what they are saying, but it’s important.”

  Broc didn’t need to hear any more. He looked down into the bailey of the castle where Lucan was continuing Cara’s training with a sword. “Lucan,” Broc called, to get his attention. “I’m taking Sonya to the trees.”

  Broc didn’t wait for Lucan’s reaction. He unleashed his god, his large, leathery wings sprouting from his back. He had carried Sonya before, but he hesitated to scoop her in his arms now.

  Instead, Broc held out his hand. “I’ll take you to the forest.”

  Her amber eyes watched him as she placed her hand in his. Broc closed his eyes and held back a sigh of pleasure when he pulled Sonya’s lithe body next to his.

  “Hold on,” he whispered as he spread his wings.

  Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pressed her face against his chest. The feel of her heat, her breasts crushed against him, made his heart pound faster and all his blood pool between his legs.

  The desire that surged through him made his legs weak, leaving only one thought in his mind—kiss Sonya. Take her. Seize her.

  “Broc?”

  Her velvety smooth voice caused his eyes to open. He swallowed and launched himself into the air. For just a moment, her fingers clutched him, but as they glided through the sky, she relaxed against him.

  Broc could feel her smile against his bare chest. All the tension that had radiated from her on the battlements faded to nothing. He took his time flying to the village outside MacLeod Castle so he could savor the delight of having Sonya’s body so close.

  All too soon they arrived. Broc didn’t need to turn around to know the other Warriors watched him. Sonya’s communication with the trees was vital to all of them.

  He used his wings and slowly lowered them into the middle of the village, hidden from the Warriors’ view. When Sonya’s feet were once more on the ground Broc had no reason to hold her. He was unwilling to let her go though.

  For an insane moment he thought about telling her how he desired her, how he had always yearned for her. But as he looked into her lovely amber eyes, he knew now wasn’t the time.

  There would never be a time for them. Broc had known it from the first moment he had seen her as a young girl playing in the loch with her sister. Sonya had been a beautiful child, and she had blossomed into a stunning woman.

  “Thank you,” she said, and stepped out of his arms.

  Broc fisted his hands at his sides. The absence of her warmth against him hurt worse than a drop of drough blood in a wound. He ached for what he could not have.

  He would never be able to hold Sonya as a lover, so the times he was able to touch her were burned into his skin and branded into his memory. He held those memories against his heart knowing they would be the only things to get him through the long darkness of eternity.

  “I’ll stay here while you go to the trees,” he said.

  Her tongue peeked out to lick her lips, and he nearly fell to his knees with the longing that cut through him.

  Sonya glanced behind her. “I know Isla’s magic keeps the wyrran from finding us, but I would feel better if you were near.”

  “Of course.” He was always near her, always had been near her. He had kept her from harm more times than she knew. And he would always be there to make sure nothing happened to her.

  They walked to the far end of the village. Isla’s magic created a barrier around the castle and the village, preventing Deirdre or any wyrran from getting to the castle easily. Though Deirdre knew they were at MacLeod Castle, Isla’s magic was strong and her barrier thick enough to keep out all but Deirdre herself.

  Deirdre had penetrated Isla’s shield not long ago as she tried to control Isla’s mind, but Isla had managed to break Deirdre’s hold once and for all. None of them knew if Deirdre had regained her form yet, but Broc surmised Deirdre had used a vast amount of her magic to try and claim Isla.

  He didn’t expect a visit from Deirdre for a little while. But he was always prepared, especially where Sonya was concerned.

  Broc could feel Isla’s magic vibrating around them, signaling they had reached the barrier. Just twenty paces away was the beginning of the forest that spread across the land.

  He watched as Sonya reached out, using her ability to hear and speak to the trees. It had been the trees
that had sent her to MacLeod Castle and for that Broc would be forever grateful.

  Then he saw Sonya bend over, her arms wrapped around her middle. “I cannot.”

  Broc was at her side in an instant. He put his arms around her and pulled her against him so that he took most of her weight. The long, thick braid of red hair fell over her side to land at her breast.

  “What do you need?” he asked.

  “It’s Isla’s magic. It’s keeping me from hearing the trees. I have to go outside the barrier.”

  He shook his head. “Nay.”

  She turned her face to his, the strain evident in the lines around her eyes and bracketing her brow. “I have to know what the trees are trying to tell me. It’s vital. I feel it.”

  Broc realized he could not dissuade her, but when she looked at him so trustingly, he’d been unable to even form an argument. “All right. We’ll go through the shield, but the instant I say we leave, we leave.”

  Her small smile was enough to brighten his day. “Certainly.”

  Broc glanced at the clouds in the sky, silently praying he would be able to keep her safe. He followed her through Isla’s shield, the magic enveloping him for a heartbeat until it fell away.

  He had left the shield before. He knew if he turned around, the castle and village would be gone. Isla’s magic made it appear as if nothing were there but rocks and grass; not even their words penetrated the shield to the world outside.

  They hurried into the trees, Broc’s Warrior senses alert to anything out of the ordinary. When Sonya walked into the trees he saw them begin to sway. And not in the direction from which the sea breeze came.

  Sonya dropped her head back, and her eyes closed. Her arms lifted from her sides while she swayed with the trees. He had never seen her speak to the trees, never knew it could be so … arousing and sensual.

  Her magic had always made his heart beat double time and his blood quicken. But now, as it surrounded him, shrouded him, consumed him, Broc had to sink his claws into a tree so as not to grab her and kiss her as he yearned to do.

  The longer her magic encircled him, the more his hunger for her devoured him. He fought it, fought the tide of desire that threatened everything he was trying to build.

  Sonya was a woman who deserved the best, and Broc was anything but that. The things he had done … he wasn’t fit to even think of touching her. Yet the passion that grew in him, the desire for her that burned as bright as the sun, thought otherwise.

  “Broc,” Sonya said.

  It sounded as though a thousand voices were added to hers. Broc walked to her, afraid she was in pain, but the bright smile on her face let him know she was more than fine.

  “I can hear them,” she whispered, the other voices still accompanying hers. “It’s been so long. How I’ve missed them.”

  Broc had no idea she had missed communicating with the trees so much. The sheer joy on her face made it clear though. He decided then and there he would bring her to the forest as often as she needed it. As long as there was no danger.

  “What are they saying?” he asked.

  She chuckled, the sound shooting straight to his groin then to his heart. “Touch me, Broc. Touch me and listen.”

  He was unsure if he could touch her in the aroused state he was in, but how could he not when she asked? It took just a heartbeat for him to make his decision.

  He lifted his hand, ready to place it on her, but he paused. He didn’t want to harm her, and he wasn’t sure if her magic would conflict with his god.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered with a smile. “Touch me.”

  How could he deny her? Broc took a deep breath and placed his hands on her arms. His eyes closed under the spell of Sonya’s magic, and instantly the world altered around him.

  His eyes flew open to find the forest as he had left it. He shut his eyes again, and with them closed he could feel the trees swaying, as if they bent and smoothed their limbs lovingly over him.

  He could hear them murmuring, but couldn’t make out the words. He might not understand what they said, but he knew they were just as happy to see Sonya as she was to be with them. It seemed they smiled down at her, as if touching her soothed them.

  The cheerfulness ended, though, when a tree bent low, its branches cocooning them. The words came in a jumble, harsh and low, as if it were revealing a terrible secret.

  Even with his eyes closed Broc could tell the news distressed Sonya. Her body began to shake, with fear or anger, he didn’t know.

  “Thank you,” she told the trees. “Watch over them, please.”

  The pulsing magic was gone before Broc could prepare himself. He dropped his arms to his sides and staggered back a step. His head swam with what he had seen and experienced. But his body hummed with renewal, with the feel of Sonya’s seductive magic.

  He raised his gaze to hers and found her watching him. There was something in her eyes, something he couldn’t quite name. “Why did you show me?”

  “I wanted to share it with you.”

  No one had ever wanted to share something like that with him. He didn’t know what to say, and was too afraid of saying something wrong to even try.

  Sonya blew out a harsh breath. “We must get back to the castle immediately. Galen and Logan need our help.”

  Though Broc wanted to know the particulars, he didn’t waste time trying to talk to Sonya about it. He took her up in his arms and jumped into the air as his wings spread wide.

  There was a small crackle of magic as they once more passed through Isla’s shield and the castle came into view. Broc flew low and fast. His friends were in trouble, and if they could do something about it, they would.

  He landed gently in the bailey where the MacLeod brothers waited. Sonya stayed near him, and Broc had the urge to put his arm around her shoulders and tug her against him.

  Fallon, the eldest, spoke first. “Did you hear the trees speak, Sonya?”

  “Aye. Galen and Logan are on their way back to the castle. They have almost a score of Druids with them. It seems the wyrran found the Druids while Galen and Logan were there. They fought off the wyrran and saved the Druids.”

  “Do you know how far out Galen and the Druids are?” Quinn asked.

  Sonya glanced at Broc. “Nearly two days’ journey from here. All the Druids are female except for a young boy.”

  “I can find them,” Broc said. His power of tracking anyone anywhere came in handy.

  Fallon nodded. “Aye, but you cannot return them fast enough. Do you think you can carry me that distance?”

  “Oh, aye,” Broc said.

  “We leave now then,” Fallon said. He paused, and a smile pulled at his face as he turned toward the castle. “After I tell my wife.”

  Broc watched Fallon rush into the castle to find Larena. Love had found the MacLeods and given them good, strong women as their mates. Even Hayden, whom Broc had often doubted would be able to let go of his hatred, had found love.

  Every time Broc thought of love, his gaze always sought out Sonya, and it did so now. She turned to him, her amber eyes bright with some unnamed emotion.

  “Be careful,” she told him. “The trees say there are no wyrran around Galen and Logan.”

  “But…” he urged when she paused.

  Sonya lifted a slim shoulder. “The trees are frightened for us. Deirdre seems to have regained most of her magic.”

  Broc lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, but dropped it before he touched her. His gaze lowered to her mouth, her ripe lips just begging for his kiss.

  It was torture being so near Sonya and unable to have her. Broc had suffered for so long at Deirdre’s hands, and it seemed he would continue to suffer for years to come.

  “Broc? Are you ready?”

  He jerked at Fallon’s call. Broc gave Sonya a small nod and turned to their leader.

  “Which way, Sonya?” Fallon asked.

  She pointed to the southeast. “Be safe.”

  Broc tore his e
yes from her, then lifted him and Fallon high into the skies.

  TWENTY-TWO

  It didn’t take Logan and the other Druids long to catch up to Galen and Reaghan. He’d have liked to have had more time with Reaghan, but that would have to wait until they reached the castle.

  Reaghan had been lost in thought, and Galen had left her alone. She had much to digest after what she had learned. He knew the elders would not like it, but Reaghan had a right to know.

  The long, low whistle that came from Logan at the back of the group caused Galen to turn around. Logan pointed to the sky. Galen spotted the falcon almost instantly.

  “What is it?” Reaghan asked.

  “That same peregrine was with us as we left MacLeod Castle and when we reached your village. It’s also decided to make the return trip with us.”

  “You believe there is something to it?”

  He smiled and resumed walking. “Oh, aye, Reaghan. For sure. I’ve learned when dealing with magic that there is no such thing as coincidence.”

  “What will you do about the falcon?”

  “Nothing. For now. We’ll see what happens when we reach the castle.”

  They walked in companionable silence the rest of the morning. When they stopped to rest for the noon meal Galen left Reaghan to the Druids and sat beside Logan some ten paces away.

  “What did you learn from Reaghan?” Logan asked.

  Galen picked a stem of grass from the ground and sighed. “After what she had told me she saw in her dreams I knew she had to know the truth.”

  “You told her?”

  “I did.”

  “And?” Logan asked. “How did she take it?”

  Galen looked at Reaghan. “She was upset, but she is handling it well. It willna be an easy path for her, but keeping it from her seemed wrong.”

  Logan grunted as he swallowed his food. “I think you did the right thing.”

  While Galen had been listening he spotted something in the sky. A dark shape that was too big to be another bird of prey. “Logan,” he said in warning.

  Logan shot to his feet, a smile spreading over his face. “I think we might be reaching MacLeod Castle sooner than expected.”