Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

  Before Logan could speak, Grant shook his head sharply. “Ye must always think of yer clan first and foremost, lad. The love of a lass truly meant for ye will find its way to ye no matter what. Meanwhile, ye cannae put at risk yer integrity or yer promise to yer blood, to the MacLomains, do ye ken?”

  Logan took a shallow swig from his skin. Even drinking was not something he could overly indulge in. But that was part of his commitment to this clan, as was what Grant implied. And he was right. The moment he became chieftain he took an oath to defend and protect the MacLomains always.

  “I will see through my betrothal,” he said softly. “Have no worries.”

  “I dinnae doubt ye will, laddie.” Grant squeezed his shoulder. “No doubt at all.”

  Logan’s eyes drifted to the fire and while he tried to focus on Grant’s words and how important they were, his thoughts kept wandering to Cassie. How was she faring with Athdara? Were they connecting? He wished he was walking with them and helping her learn more about the beautiful horse that was hers. He already craved her smiles when Athdara warmed her heart. He already craved the sound of her laughter when she realized the horse really was her friend.

  Then there were the other thoughts.

  Or better yet, just the one.

  He wished they were back on the bridge and her body was still pressed against his.

  Be better, think better, he said to himself. Yet a small smile came to his lips and his eyes were ensnared when long hours later, or maybe minutes, Cassie and Athdara reappeared. As her eyes met his and a wide smile blossomed on her face, he knew he was doomed. Aye, he was used to women smiling at him, even desiring him, but he wasn’t used to the simple friendship he saw in her eyes. The want of a woman who looked at him because she missed him, because she was glad to lay eyes on him again.

  Everything inside let go and muscles he didn’t know were knotted released.

  Was this love?

  No, far too soon for that. Then again, he knew nothing of love. What did it feel like, look like? He had no way of knowing save what he saw betwixt his parents. What he did know was what he felt beneath the portcullis with Cassie was far beyond anything he’d ever experienced. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was something. Either way, they had formed some sort of connection and it felt like a lifeline.

  One he was not allowed.

  Cassie was about to speak when a voice boomed, “It took longer than I expected but bloody hell ‘tis good to be home!”

  “Darach!” Cassie smiled. “So good to see you here.”

  Logan clenched his jaw and started to step forward as she flung her arms around his cousin. Grant’s hand clamped down on his shoulder and his sharp words reminded, “‘Tis never an easy thing to honor yer clan but ye must my lad. Ye must.”

  Then Grant said the most damning words. “After all, she’s not meant for ye.”

  Chapter Five

  “OH! CASSIE YELPED when Darach spun her a few times. She hadn’t expected such an enthusiastic greeting but probably should have known better. He had been fairly obvious about his attraction to her before.

  “‘Tis good to see you here, lass.” He smiled and finally held her at arm’s length. “Are you well? ‘Tis no easy thing traveling through time.”

  “Actually it was pretty painless. If you leave out the part about being thrust into the middle of a battle. That was terrifying. But I'm doing a lot better now.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe I’m here. I keep feeling like I might wake up from a dream at any moment.”

  “Nay.” He took her hand and led her toward the bonfire. “There will be no waking up from this because you’re wide awake already.”

  Was she really? Because everything still seemed so surreal, especially what she felt in Logan’s arms on the drawbridge. What was that? Her body had responded in unfamiliar ways. Her clothing became too heavy, too constrictive. Every inch of her skin tingled and burned, craving the feel of his flesh against hers. Even now, her heart beat into her throat just looking at him all done up in Highland regalia. So frigging handsome. All she could think about was being back on the bridge and in his arms.

  She stepped back when Darach embraced first Grant then Logan.

  “‘Tis good to see you, son.” Grant beamed as he eyed Darach. “Did you go back to the castle and see your Ma first? She willnae forgive you otherwise.”

  “Nay, not yet.” Darach rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged, eyes meeting Cassie's. “But I dinnae think she will fault me for getting detoured.”

  Grant sighed and shook his head.

  “How fares the Colonial in New Hampshire?” Logan interrupted, his expression somewhat stern. “And Uncle Bradon and Aunt Leslie?”

  “All is well.” Darach received a skin and took a long drag before he continued. “They’re caring for more Broun lasses as they arrive.”

  “Is Nicole okay? Does she know where I am?” Lord, she had been so completely entrenched in being introduced to an ancient society and yes, Logan, that she nearly forgot about her friends. “And more Brouns have arrived? Does that mean Erin and Jaqueline are there?”

  “Nicole is fine and knows you’re here.” Darach wrapped an arm around her lower back and pulled her against his side. “Jaqueline has arrived but not Erin.”

  “How’s Jackie? I mean Jaqueline.” She worried at the corner of her lower lip, overly aware of how affectionate Darach was being. Better yet, the tightness in Logan’s jaw as he watched them. “Has she been filled in on…well…” She looked around. “All that might be heading her way?”

  “Aye, your friends will be just fine,” Darach assured. “None will arrive here without plenty of knowledge beforehand.”

  “So all of them are definitely coming?” she said softly, happy and worried for them at the same time.

  “Aye,” Grant answered for Darach, his eyes shifting between the two young Highlanders. “As they are meant for a MacLomain like the Brouns before them.”

  “Oh,” she murmured, wheels spinning. “What MacLomains specifically are they meant for?”

  “Those born of the Next Generation,” Grant said. “But ‘tis not for you to worry over, lass.”

  “No offense but it sort of is.” Cassie carefully removed herself from Darach’s hold. “Not only because my friends are involved but because I am too.”

  All she could think about was Rònan and Niall being meant for one of her friends. Darach? Fine. He was a sweetheart. But the other two? She was not so sure. They were damn intense. As to Logan? Well, he was off the table which made her wonder, why the heck was she here? Because—though she might not want to admit it—the only man that slightly…okay, really, interested her was Logan.

  But she was so not a home-wrecker.

  And pursuing any man sworn to another woman was close enough.

  Yet she had to be sure he wasn’t meant for a Broun anyway. Just to ease her peace of mind for his betrothed that is. “Logan isn’t born of the Next Generation right?” She kept her eyes trained on Grant because she couldn’t believe she was spitting this out with Logan standing right here. “So he doesn’t have to worry about this new Broun/MacLomain connection?”

  “Nay,” Logan answered for Grant, drawing her eyes in his direction. “I was part of the Next Generation but a wee bairn at the time they met their lasses.” His expression remained unwavering, but his voice deepened as though he fought emotion. “So I cannae be meant for you or your friends.”

  Heat flared beneath her skin. Their eyes held and damn if she wasn’t back on that drawbridge pressed against him, eager for more. Eager to understand the intense pull between them.

  “Good,” she whispered but didn’t mean it at all. Not even a little bit. And that bothered the heck out of her.

  His pupils flared and for a second she swore he was going to close the distance and pull her into his arms. She swore he was thinking the same thoughts as her. Darach cleared his throat and Logan’s eyes shot to his cousin.

  “When pr
ecisely is your intended, Aline MacLauchlin, due to arrive?”

  So that was her name. Aline MacLauchlin. A pretty name, beautiful actually. A name meant for him. Cassie took a sip from her skin and looked to the fire. Whatever this was between her and Logan needed to stop now.

  “In less than a week,” Logan said. “But I’ve decided to go to her on the morrow. ‘Tis dangerous and MacLomain warriors alongside her own will help ensure her safe passage.”

  “You’re riding to her?” Darach’s brows perked as his lips turned down. “With how many men, cousin?”

  Cassie did not like the look on either Darach or Grant’s faces.

  “Enough,” Logan said curtly before he nodded at her. “I wish you a good eve, Cassie. Stay close to either Grant or Darach. They will see you well.”

  She started to mumble a response, but he strode off. A little stunned and worried, she looked at Grant. “Is everything all right?”

  “Aye.” Grant nodded at Darach before he left as well. “Stay by her side until she is ready to rest or unless Machara happens along.”

  “Of course,” he murmured, eyes narrowed as he watched his father go after Logan.

  “What was that all about?” she asked. “I get the sense that Logan going to Aline is a bad idea.”

  “‘Tis nothing, lass.” Darach shook his head and quickly smoothed away his disgruntled expression. He grabbed her hand and pulled her after him. “Let’s go dance.”

  “No.” Cassie braced her feet and stopped him. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

  “‘Tis nothing for you—”

  “Yes it is,” she interrupted and tried to voice her concern without sounding like she was overly worried about Logan. Because she was. A lot. “If I’m here then that means I have the right to worry about the MacLomain clan and everything to do with it...including its chieftain.”

  Hmm, had that sounded vague enough?

  Darach eyed her for an awkwardly long moment. Though she thought for sure she had done well with her line of inquisition, he was blunter than she anticipated. “So you’re interested in Logan then?”

  It was weird hearing a medieval Highlander phrase things like a twenty-first century guy, but then these MacLomains had the bizarre benefit of understanding two eras at once.

  “No,” she said slowly, cautiously. Darn him for pegging her. “I’m worried about the MacLomains.”

  A strange look passed over his face. Sadness, concern…determination?

  “The MacLomains are strong. Dinnae worry over them.” Compassion lit his eyes. “But many thanks for your concern considering what you’ve been through.”

  Cassie nodded, trying to be equally compassionate. “What about your clan, the Hamiltons? Are they okay?”

  “I am Hamilton in name only, not by blood.” A flicker of unease entered his eyes. “But aye, the Hamiltons are fine so dinnae fret over that.”

  “Okay, sure.” But she wasn’t one to let things go when she was curious. “So you’re not a big fan of the Hamilton clan?”

  “Aye, the clan’s fine,” he muttered under his breath as he again pulled her after him. “Its history, not so much.”

  She was about to question him further when Rònan approached. Dear God, this guy was overwhelming. If his height, which was a few inches taller than his cousins, and the tattoos wrapped over his muscled chest and arms weren’t enough, his confrontational personality was.

  “There you are, lass,” he rumbled.

  To make matters worse, Niall was strolling alongside. Not that he had been mean to her in the least, but he was as intimidating as his MacLeod cousin. One thing was for sure, these guys weren’t her cup of tea. And clearly tea had not been their choice of drink tonight based on their rambunctious attitudes.

  At least she had Darach with her. He seemed more like Logan.

  Darach embraced the men, a wide smile on his face as they laughed and clapped one another on the back. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe they were alike after all. She clenched her teeth and tried to keep her cool, tried not to be silly and act like she was in over her head. They had all grown up together. They were friends. Nobody meant her any harm.

  Still, she wished Logan hadn’t vanished.

  As if he sensed her distress, Darach returned to her side, his posture protective. “I’m taking Cassie to Machara. ‘Tis best she remains with a lass this eve, aye?”

  “Is it?” Niall smiled at her. For the first time since they had met he didn’t devour her with his eyes. “We willnae hurt ye, lass. This I promise.”

  “Not so sure I believe that,” she said, cursing her loose tongue. But now that it was said she might as well continue. “You guys kinda freak me out…a lot.”

  Rònan frowned. “Freak?”

  Darach shook his head. “You’d ken more if you bothered to visit the twenty-first century.”

  “It means we frighten her,” Niall provided, doing his best to lose his grin. “And that isnae good.” Then a genuine frown settled on his face, which oddly enough made him look even more handsome. “‘Twas not our intention, lass.”

  “It never is,” Machara declared as she joined them. “Ye bunch of bloody arses.”

  Rònan spoke to Cassie as he wrapped his arm around Machara’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “I heard you wondered about the Oak out yonder and that I was the lad to tell you more about it.”

  Scary thought but she was too curious for her own good and after all, she only told Grant so he must trust this guy…she hoped. “That’s right.”

  “Another time, cousin.” Machara patted Rònan’s stomach as though he didn’t possess washboard abs but a pot belly. “Meanwhile, she stays with me. The Laird will have it no other way.”

  “So Logan asked you to keep Cassie by your side?” Niall drawled, clearly not convinced.

  “Aye. Can ye believe it?” Machara winked. “His number one enemy.”

  Truth be told, though eager to escape with Machara she was sorely tempted to follow the devil Rònan to the mighty oak.

  “Och, lassie.” Machara shook her head. “I’ll not see ye tempted by the MacLeod just yet.” She pulled Cassie after her. “Enjoy yer eve, lads. Find yerselves another lass’s skirt to wander beneath, aye?”

  Cassie waved over her shoulder at Darach before Machara pulled her into the crowd and away from the men.

  “I’m not sure if I should thank you or not,” she muttered as the Scotswoman released her hand and they walked over the drawbridge. “I was super curious about the oak.”

  “Aye, we all are at one time or another.” Machara shook her head. “But Rònan never tells all. At least not beyond what we already know.”

  “And what exactly is that?” Cassie asked.

  “That the oak was born of a dragon. Rònan’s Ma, Torra. And that the tree watches over the MacLomain clan to this day.”

  “Excuse me?” Cassie avoided a bunch of girls scampering over the bridge and did her best to keep her eyes from the wall Logan had her against earlier. “A dragon?”

  “Aye.” Machara looked at her as though she was born yesterday. “Half dragon anyway. Just like Rònan.”

  Cassie almost questioned whether dragons actually existed but figured that would be pretty redundant considering she had traveled back in time and that wizards seemingly existed.

  “Listen, if it’s okay I’d rather head back to my chamber,” Cassie said. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Really?” Machara eyed her. “The celebrations are in full swing.”

  “Yes, really,” she confirmed. “But thanks so much for everything you’ve done for me.” Machara really had done a lot for Cassie. She had been very thorough showing her around and made her feel welcome. “I’m sorry. I’m just overtired.”

  While the tall, thin brunette was not necessarily made of warm moments, she nodded and her face softened. “Fine then, lass. I’ll make sure ye get to yer chamber safely.”

  She nodded, grateful Machara left it at that.

 
As it turned out, Logan became caught up in clan business and did not leave the next day or even the following one. Though Grant, Machara and Darach kept her entertained, she was always hoping for a glance of the MacLomain Laird. Occasionally he checked in on her, but the moments were fleeting. Niall and Rònan flirted when they got the chance, but Machara was fiercely protective, claiming Cassie deserved time to learn her way around without dealing with their lusting.

  On her third night in medieval Scotland, Cassie looked out the window of her chamber, thankful she was here and not down there. Summer solstice was definitely a big deal around here and the crowd was rowdy. Partying had never been her thing so she was happy enough tucked away with a fire crackling and a tray of assorted foods on the table.

  She liked solitude.

  Almost as much as history and ancestry.

  While not overly hungry, she still sampled the variety of foods. Bannock, a type of bread. Various seafoods including scallops and shrimp. Delicious cheeses. She didn’t drink the whisky provided because it seemed foolish to dull her senses in a fairly unfamiliar place.

  Eventually, she grew restless and decided to explore the upper level of the castle. Traveling the torch-lit corridor, she walked out onto the first wall walk she came to. It was relatively quiet, the sound of celebrating carried away by the wind. The lilt of bagpipes a faint echo off the castle walls. She liked it. A place less confined by stone but open to the sky.

  Hands braced on the battlement, she leaned her head back, closed her eyes and smiled. A temperate breeze blew her hair. The rock beneath her fingertips was rough in some areas and smooth in others. As if generations of hands and perhaps even weapons had rested upon it. The scents here were different. So free of modern day. She inhaled deeply, focusing on each little smell. The torch smoke, salt off the loch, grass, and even wildflowers.

  “Ya ves, con todos sus sentidos. You see with all of your senses.”

  Her heart leapt with excitement at the sound of Logan's quiet voice. She kept her eyes closed and smiled. “So you did learn something from Handy Manny.”

  “Sí, él me enseñó mucho. Entonces hice un punto de aprender español después. Es una lengua hermosa e importante. Yes, he taught me a lot. Then I made a point of learning Spanish afterward. ‘Tis a beautiful and important language.”