by Donna Grant
Frang looked down the mountain at the narrow passage and waited for Kenna. “Just in case the Wallace finds us before we make it to the bottom, you better go first."
"So you can hold off the attack?"
He nodded.
She sighed and looked down at her hands that gripped the reins. “Surely he won't return that soon."
"I don't want to chance it."
"Aye,” she whispered and set her mount in motion.
Frang followed behind her, glancing back every so often to make sure no one followed them. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Wallace found them, but he wanted Kenna safely in the Druids’ Glen by then.
A pang of regret filled him. It had been nearly unbearable to leave the Glen and almost nigh impossible to stay away. Yet he had done it. Day by day he had resigned himself to the fact he would never see his beloved Glen again.
And yet, he now returned.
It seemed unfathomable.
However, there was no denying the joy that entered his soul at knowing he might catch a glimpse of the sacred Druid ground again. What he hadn't told Kenna was that he couldn't return with her. He would lead her to the edge of MacInnes land, and then the song of the Druids would call her home. It would be near impossible for him to ignore the song, but his vow to the Fae wasn't one he could ignore.
When they reached the bottom of the mountain, Kenna waited for him to come even with her. She chewed on her lower lip as if she had been thinking long and hard over something. His gaze lingered on her lips as he recalled their stolen kiss and the way it had made his blood pool in his rod.
"You haven't asked me why I left my home."
Frang smiled inwardly. “I figured you had a good enough reason for doing so."
"How did you find me?"
"I saw you riding away as I walked to the cottage.” He hesitated to tell her anything more.
She licked her lips making him nearly groan with new sprung desire. “Where did you get the grey? He's a magnificent creature."
Frang leaned down and patted the stallion's neck. “That he is.” He hated to lie to her, but he couldn't exactly tell her the Fae had gifted him with the horse. “I bought him."
"Bought him?” she repeated, brows raised.
Frang laughed. “Aye. Is that so surprising?"
She shook her head, her glorious red locks shining in the sun. “Just something else I didn't know about you. Don't you find it strange that you stayed with me for a week, but I don't really know anything about you?"
"Just as I don't know much about you,” he countered. “I've learned that sometimes the past should be left alone."
She thought over that a moment. “I don't agree."
"Really? Please, enlighten me."
She threw him a teasing grin. “The events and decisions of the past mould a person into who he is. To truly learn about a person, you need to know his past."
Frang lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “That's one way to look at it.” He felt her gaze on him, the curiosity rolling off her like fog.
"Do you have family?"
He immediately thought of Glenna, Fiona and Moira. He knew the question had been coming. In fact, he'd been waiting for it for several days. “At one time."
"Why aren't you still with them?"
He turned and looked into her amber eyes. He never tired of looking at the unusual colour. “There are times when you have to do something you don't want to do. Leaving wasn't an option for me. I had to leave them and find a place somewhere else."
"That sounds awful. Surely there was another way than to leave. Family is important. Sometimes they are the only ones you have in the world."
Frang had to look away from her. The pain in her gaze was unbearable for him to watch. He knew how she felt being all alone. After he had been cursed, he'd had to leave his real family. Yet, he'd looked in on them every few months. Watching them grow old and die had been difficult, but not being a part of them had been the hardest thing he had ever done.
"True enough, lass,” he said. He hoped she'd drop the subject, but he should have known better.
"You should return to them. If you've done something wrong, tell them you're sorry."
He fisted his hands. “Kenna, please."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her shake her head. “Tell me why you cannot return to them."
Frang glanced over at her. “I will just as soon as you tell me why the Wallace needed linden."
Just as he thought, she turned away, refusing to answer him. He sighed. As much as he hated her questions that made him think of things he wanted to forget, he loved the sound of her voice. Her mind was sharp and her wit quick.
He scratched his jaw. He wished he'd had a chance to shave that morning. Two days growth of beard left him itching like a daft person. All those years with a beard, and yet he couldn't stand to have whiskers now.
A large cloud covered the sun as the wind caressed his cheek like a lover's touch. If they weren't being chased by a madman intent on immortality Frang could have enjoyed the day.
He heard laughter behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Kenna lean over her mare's neck as they raced past him. Not one to pass up a challenge, Frang squeezed his legs and his stallion easily caught Kenna and her mare.
"Afraid I'll win?” she questioned.
For a moment, Frang forgot to breathe. He'd never seen her look so stunning with her long tresses flowing behind her like a red beacon and her eyes dancing with merriment. He glanced down and saw her skirts had lifted in the wind baring her legs to well above her knees.
He swallowed. Then, he met her gaze and smiled. “Afraid of losing?"
She laughed again, the sound warming the very heart inside of him. “My mare is quick."
"Aye,” he hollered over the wind, “but the stallion is bigger."
"To the grove then,” she shouted before the mare leapt ahead.
Frang held back for just a moment. He watched as she raced the mare across the Scottish hills dotted with heather. She was a magnificent sight.
"Come on, lad,” he whispered to the stallion. A heartbeat later the stallion stretched his legs, gaining on Kenna and the mare with every breath he took.
Just before they reached the grove of trees, he let the stallion have his head, beating Kenna and the mare by half a length.
He pulled the stallion to a stop and turned him to face Kenna. The smile she wore told him just how happy she was. She pulled the mare to a stop near him, laughing all the while.
"You enjoyed that?"
"Oh, aye,” she said. “I ran her yesterday, but today, well, today was different."
The only difference was that he was with her. A wealth of heat stole through his body. “What are you going to give me?"
"Give you?” she asked as she patted her mare's neck.
"For winning."
She laughed, the sound rich and robust. “What would you like?"
Frang nudged his horse near hers until they were knee to knee facing each other. “This,” he said and reached for her.
Chapter Fourteen
Kenna's eyes widened in surprise as Frang pulled her against his chest and settled his lips over hers. His mouth was warm and tender as he nibbled her lips. Her hands came up to grip his shoulders as his tongue slipped into her mouth. He plundered her mouth, giving her untold amounts of pleasure.
Frang was a man who liked to kiss. He drew her closer to him, crushing her breasts against his chest as his tongue slipped through her lips and mated with hers.
When he lifted his head she saw the desire in his eyes. But she saw something else as well—surprise.
"A most fitting prize,” he said before righting her atop her mare.
Kenna waited until he turned his stallion around before she reached up and tentatively touched her lips. She could still taste him in her mouth. He tasted exotic, mystical and powerful.
He tasted simply wonderful.
They rode in silence f
or hours. Kenna was lost in the kiss and her body's reaction to Frang. Her eyes never roamed far from Frang, and she kept a little behind him so she could watch him.
He rode the stallion with an ease of someone who had spent a great deal of time on a horse. But the more she learned about him, the more he confused her. He was a skilled swordsmen, expert horseman and he knew herbs. In all her years, Kenna had stumbled upon a few women who recognised some herbs and their uses, but never a man.
At first, Kenna thought he might have learned from a relative. But now, she wasn't so sure. He had tried to hide it from her, but his knowledge of herbs was as extensive as hers, or better.
The fact that he not only knew of the Druids but knew their location made her hazard a guess that the Druids had taught him about herbs.
When Frang suddenly pulled up on the reins as they neared a stream, she found it difficult not to ask him the questions burning in her mind.
"We'll rest here for a bit,” he said as he dismounted and led the stallion to the water.
Kenna swung her leg over the saddle and slid to the ground. After she led her mare to the water, she reached into her satchel and retrieved the loaf of bread and oatcakes she had packed.
She handed an oatcake to Frang and looked around the valley they were in. “'Tis beautiful here."
"Aye. There isn't a part of Scotland that I've seen that isn't beautiful."
"Is there one place more beautiful than any other?"
"Aye."
She waited for him to explain further, and when he didn't, she found herself disappointed. After she finished her oatcake, Frang handed her an apple.
"Where did you get these?"
He shrugged. “I bought them."
She knew he was lying. He didn't trust her enough with the truth. For all she knew, he'd probably stolen them, but at that moment, she didn't care. The apple tasted delicious.
Once the apple was gone, she drank deeply from the stream as Frang refilled their water supply. She was surprised that her legs and bottom didn't ache as they had the day before. In fact, other than a slight pain in her head, nothing hurt.
She climbed back on her mare and once again followed Frang. The more they travelled east, the more he seemed to close off from her.
* * * *
Glen Wallace, laird of the Wallace clan, sat atop his horse overlooking the rolling planes of Scotland. His jaw clenched and he fisted his hand every time he thought of Kenna.
He still couldn't believe she had taken the Book of Magic. She was to have been his bride, a fitting position for one such as her. Not to mention, her skills in healing would have given him the extra knowledge he needed.
His men stood at the ready to take Kenna down with only a word from him. Yet, Wallace found himself wondering if he wanted her dead after all. It would have been easier for him had she come to his bed willingly, but he could take her there regardless if she was willing or not.
She still had what he needed. And wanted.
"Laird?"
Wallace turned to his first in command, Callum. “Aye?"
"Another set of tracks is now with Kenna's."
Wallace inwardly seethed. Had she found a lover? Someone to share her magic with? “It appears our little healer is no longer alone. We need to find her before she finds herself in too much danger."
"Aye, laird."
As Callum moved away, Wallace shifted in the saddle. All he desired was within his grasp. He had moved slowly with Kenna to give her time to come to grips with her new role as his bride.
Yet, she had seemed surprised at his words the night before at the castle. As if she hadn't known he'd been wooing her. Any woman in the Wallace clan would jump at the chance to be his wife. Any woman but Kenna, that is.
No one knew of his dabbling in his tower. Not even Callum who he told everything. He wanted to conquer the power, harness the magic. Then, he would show those few who would stand by his side for an eternity. He had been willing to share his gift with Kenna, but now he had other thoughts.
She would give him sons, and afterward he would toss her aside for another woman. He would sire as many sons as he could, gifting each of them with eternity.
With a smile, Wallace nudged his horse down the hill.
"Have you changed your mind about her?” Callum asked as he rode alongside him.
"Kenna will serve her purpose. I need her."
Callum snorted. “As often as the women in the clan swoon at seeing your face, ye'll have no difficulty finding ye a woman."
Wallace looked at his friend and first in command. “I want Kenna. I will have Kenna."
"Och,” Callum said, a sneer on his face. “Ye'll use her till yer done, then find another. Good plan."
"That it is,” Wallace said. “I want her found before nightfall."
* * * *
Each mile that brought Frang closer to the Glen made him more uneasy. Would he be strong enough not to return to the Glen? Temptation had always been a downfall of his. Kenna was a prime example.
He knew he shouldn't have kissed her, yet he'd been unable to help himself. And after that delightful taste of her, it was going to be exceedingly difficult not to kiss her again.
Or to run his hands along her soft curves.
Never before did he have to delve into his powers to keep his desires for a woman at bay, but with Kenna everything was different. Just the thought of her flaming tresses tickling his skin as she straddled his hips and rode him to ecstasy was enough to bring his rod hard and aching.
"Did I do something wrong?"
Kenna's sweet voice breaking through his vivid image of her brought him to the present. He glanced at her as she rode beside him and saw the anxious expression on her delicate features.
"Nay,” he answered. “Why do you think that?"
"You've been quiet. Too quiet. Almost as if you were pensive and regretted accompanying me."
Frang chuckled. “I don't regret accompanying you, so set your mind at ease."
"But there is something bothering you, aye?"
There was no use denying it. Not now. Not when she would discover the truth in a matter of days. “Aye, there is something else."
"How close are we going to your home?"
"Very, very close.” It would only be a day or two before he'd begin to hear the song of the Druids, a song only another Druid could hear to help draw them to safe territory. It would be more painful than his leaving.
Kenna cleared her throat. “Would you like to stop and visit with them? I don't have to come with you,” she hurried to add.
Frang turned his head and looked at her. “That is kind of you, but I will have to decline. There are events that have taken place that I cannot change. I must stay away."
He watched as she twisted the reins in her hand. “I know you don't trust me, and I haven't given you reason to. But, can't you tell me why?"
"It isn't that easy."
She held up a hand. “Nay. Don't say more. I shouldn't have asked."
When she nudged her mare into a run, Frang let her go. He had expected to live out the rest of his life without the past continuing to intrude on a daily basis. Kenna's curiosity was going to have her discover much more than if he'd just told her the truth.
He whistled to the stallion and took in the clean, Highland air as he chased Kenna. He basked in the knowledge that he wouldn't be around when she found out the truth about him. He intended to turn around as soon as she was safely on MacInnes land and find himself a nice village to call home. Many, many miles away from the Druids.
There he wouldn't have to see the accusation in Kenna's eyes for not telling her when he'd had the chance. Nor would he have to enlighten Glenna and Conall as to why he'd left in the first place.
Or explain his appearance and the curse that went with his immortality.
Nay, it was far better if he didn't go near the Druids.
* * * *
Hours later, Frang led them into a small forest that skirted
the base of a mountain. “We'll rest here for the night.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kenna shiver. “It's safe enough for a fire as well."
He thought he heard her mumble a ‘thank the saints'. He began to unsaddle and wipe down the horses with a handful of pine needles as she looked for wood for the fire.
Dusk was upon them, with the nightfall rapidly approaching. As soon as he finished with the horses, he looked up to find Kenna trying desperately to start the fire. He walked to her and knelt near the fire.
"Let me work at this. We'll need wood for the night."
Wearily she stood. “I'll find some more."
Frang waited until she was out of sight before he held his hands, palm down, over the wood and coaxed a fire to life.
And then he heard the scream.
Chapter Fifteen
Kenna stared into the golden eyes of the boar and knew she was about to die. Her hand reached for her dagger beneath her skirts, but it was as if the animal knew what she did, for it growled at her.
She took a step back, her heart skidding to her feet when the animal followed. Every instinct within her told her to turn and run as fast as she could to Frang. He would be able to help her.
"Whatever you do, don't move,” she heard a voice from behind her.
Kenna nodded to Frang as he moved slowly behind her. She felt his warmth moments before he brushed against her.
"Do you trust me?"
"Aye,” she whispered.
"We'll never outrace him. We'll have to trick him."
Kenna was about to ask him how he planned to do that when his hand came up to rest on her waist.
"Whatever you do, don't let go of me."
She jerked her head to look at him the same time he whirled her around to crush her against his chest and roll to the ground. Kenna locked her arms around him and held on as they rolled away from the boar.
The boar shrieked its frustration as it charged after them. And then, as suddenly as Frang had set them rolling, he stopped and twisted away from her to plunge his sword into the animal.
Kenna buried her face in Frang's neck and tried to stop shaking. “I think I should have stayed at my cottage."