If they weren’t fired upon again.
David had other ideas. He lifted Fiona up, acting like a human shield for her. He gunned it, running as fast as he could to the house. Fiona wondered how such a large form, injured at that, move so quickly. Other shots were fired but whoever was sailing them through the air were not a good shot.
Once inside the door of the house, once the door was latched, David collapsed in the nearest chair. He didn’t choose a comfortable chair. He chose one whose seat he could grip. He told her to hold the stem of the arrow still while he sliced off the arrow head. He put the knife between his teeth as he had Fiona to pull out the arrow.
She flinched at first but she didn’t vocalize her complaint. She counted and then pulled. He growled through his gritted teeth. But as soon as the arrow was free from him, he hurled curses.
“I will ring the neck of whoever shot me!” he bellowed.
He jumped to his feet, shaking the structure for sure. She swore his hair grazed the ceiling. And she was sure if he caught up with the servant in question, the man would be dead. Laird David would snuff him out.
“Sit please, Laird,” she bid softly.
The softness in her voice she was certain caught him off guard.
“Ye need to let me fix your wound,” she said.
He sat as he was told, his eyes on her with wonder. She smiled at the expression on his face. He was still for her as she washed and packed his wound with peat. She manipulated the hulking, weakening form into bed. She fed him mead and fresh water in small sips. He would be okay she felt it. But she knew the pain would probably get worse before it got better. He looked at her with clarity one last time before he succumbed to fever.
Fiona believed for now Laird David lost his mind. She tirelessly bathed him in cool water. She was thankful for the cool mountain air of the night. She lost all fear when she drew another bucket from the well to wash his magnificent form with.
Fiona left his quarters and returned. It was not but a few minutes that it took to re-fill her bucket which she nearly dropped. There was no mistaking. She was no afraid. She was not exhausted or hungry. Her mind was clear as the stream she and David swam in. There feathers like that of a raven cloaking his arms.
David’s naked chest was thatched in shiny black curling hair. That was normal though the hair on his head was red. The feathers she could not deny. So she just ignored them. The shadows of the fire played with his face as well. She did not want to believe otherwise. She had tasted his sweet lips, she knew how he was made. He did not have a raven’s bill. She did her best to make him comfortable as she ordinarily would. She knew by morning he would be over the worst of it and he would be, in every way, the man she lay with.
Chapter Seven
The laird stirred first. Despite the relative freshness of the mountains the room itself was stagnant. Fiona needed to open a window to let in the air. They had boarded up the windows after the laird was shot.
“I could use another swim at the stream,” he murmured.
“Let me get you some cool water,” she said.
She was so aware of how she was unable to look at him. She didn’t think he noticed but when his big paw hooked her hip and kept her from moving, she knew better. The giant form sat up like a great mountain rising from the sea.
“Let us have a talk,” he said. “No more stories or I will put you over my knee. Am I clear?”
“Aye,” she said.
The recollection of half human half beasts carrying off the women brought the fear back to her as though it were fresh. But she had to summon up her last nerve to share it with him. For he was one of them. She had seen it with her own eyes. Fortunately He is better. She is avoiding asking him about his transformation. He cornered her and made her say what she sees. They are under full attack. He says to her that if she had just told the truth perhaps. But she says that he already knew what she saw, so don’t blame it on her.
“I did see your tacks man. I know it was him. Him I’ve seen before. But he told me if I admitted I saw them as they were, you would punish me as a witch,” she admitted.
She nearly broke down in tears. It had been such a long time since she cried. Even alone she didn’t let herself go. But the strain of seeing what she saw, knowing that the women were probably carried off to a horrible fate, and lying about it on top of everything, had taken its toll.
“Why did you not tell me the truth, lass?” he asked softly.
He gently scolded her with his eyes.
“I could not,” she said. “I didn’t want to say it out loud. It was too horrible.”
“I see but then I am too horrible?” he asked.
He was referring to his transformation. Or partial transformation. She had been with him when he had partially morphed into a raven. But she denied him his answer.
“Don’t make me ask you outright if you canna tolerate admitting what you saw,” he threatened softly.
“No you are not horrible, Laird,” she said.
“But they were like me?” he asked.
“Yes Laird. Very much like you,” she replied.
Help her, she could not say he was horrible. He was anything but.
“And so you saw creatures, shall we say, carry off the women?” he confirmed.
“Yes. Didn’t the others see the creatures as well?” she asked finally.
She was curious to know why he hadn’t asked this of her before. Why he needed to pull a confession out of her?
He cupped the back of her hair and kissed her forehead.
“Because, lass,” he said softly, reading her mind. “Not everyone can see what you saw. The others saw men and they told me. You would not admit it. I knew immediately why that was.”
His eyes gathered darkly. She was very confused by it all. The less she asked and the more she simply accepted, Fiona believed the better off she would be. Laird David rose. He was such a giant. He dressed and stepped out of his quarters.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To gather my men and to find my people,” said David.
“You think they’re alive?” she asked.
“They better be,” he smiled.
“Are you leaving me?” she whined sort of.
His eyes twinkled. “I am. But I will be back so soon and we will celebrate.”
Laird David swept her up into his arms and kissed her fully.
“Now please lass, stay put until we are off. Do as you did before. Keep to yourself until I have returned.”
Chapter Eight
Fiona disobeyed her laird. She spied as David and the other warriors strode into the edge of the forest. As their bodies blended with the numbers of the trees, she saw for herself. The men transformed and flew above the trees like ordinary ravens. Not large. Not half and half. But like ordinary crows rendered from gargantuan.
She did do as she was told in some respect. She went out and collected her food. She would poach eggs to go with bread she baked. She would consult the cattle hand for some milk to maybe make some butter. When she happened on him, she could see he had taken some punishment. His scowl told her that perhaps Laird David disciplined him some. The cattle hand was not happy and he looked like he wanted to take it off of her. Something told Fiona she had better retreat and go back into the laird’s quarters.
But the cattle hand dodged her and blocked her path.
“Where are you off to lass?” he asked.
“I am going about my chores,” said Fiona meekly.
“I’ll give you some work to do,” he said darkly.
“What happened to your face?” she asked.
She knew the laird slapped him around. Had he used his might, the cattle hand would be dead. Fiona wished he was.
“You told the truth, lass didn’t you?” he said wickedly.
The cattle hand stalked her. She stepped back. He stepped forward. The laird had been right. Someone on the estate was helping out the tacks man and his men. Fiona was staring him st
raight in the face.
But now Laird David and anyone on the estate who might protect her was gone. The only thing Fiona had on her to protect herself was her basket of eggs. The only thing hurling eggs at him might do is create an element of surprise. Maybe after that she could run from him. She raised her arm but he cut her down with the cold tone of his voice.
“Don’t even think about it. Or I will do unspeakable things to you,” he said callously.
He reached for her, but out of the clear blue, swept down with talons forward, a giant raven. The massive bird plucked the cattle man off the ground. He was lifted, lifted high up in the air off to the mountains of the Highlands.
Fiona fell backward. This could not be real. She wanted to unsee what she had just seen. She stumbled more against a wall. Only it was not a wall. It was the laird himself, rising up behind her.
“There, there lass,” he said in his soft but thunderous tone.
She crumpled, let her spine relax against his formidable body. Fiona wanted to be in bed with him. Before a roaring fire with plenty of food and nothing but pleasure between them. She was so done with fear.
“Your fine lass,” he assured her. “We never have to speak of this again. ‘Won’t happen again. Of this I am sure. Everything is as it was.”
The warriors that the laird traveled with were now milling about. All was back to normal. They helped the servants that had been stolen back to their quarters. It was now a day of rest to be followed by a night of merriment. At least one night, maybe more.
Fiona stepped towards the women she recognized who were walking towards their quarters in a file. The laird’s iron hand stopped her.
“And where do you think you’re going lass?” he said with a smile in his voice.
“To my quarters, laird,” she replied with confusion.
“Why?” he asked.
“I thought you said everything is as it was,” she answered.
“Oh somethings have most definitely changed, Fiona,” he said.
It was lovely to hear her name on his lips. In all the commotion and the passion, she believed he had not used it before.
“Aye what might those be?” she asked mischievously.
“Me lass,” he rasped. “You might say you have transformed me.”
* * *
[JG1]s
MC Romance: Gravel A Motorcycle Bad Boy Obsession (Untamed Rider Forbidden Temptation Book 1) Page 53