Kaall had guessed as much, from the sound of Hromund’s voice. But he didn’t know what sort of weapon the man had, nor what his intent was. He didn’t want Rhiannon caught in the middle, if Hromund dared to attack.
‘Step away,’ he ordered, pressing her back.
She ignored the command, as if trying to guard him. ‘Your arm isn’t fully healed,’ she whispered, ‘and I don’t trust this man.’
Neither did he. And for that reason, he wanted her nowhere near Hromund. She wasn’t safe in the man’s company, and if it meant being cruel, he’d do what was necessary to protect her.
‘I don’t need to hide behind your skirts, Rhiannon.’
As he’d hoped, her hands fell away, though he could guess at how his words must have hurt her feelings. Her footsteps crossed behind him and to the side.
‘I’ve not seen this one before, Kaall. Were you hiding her in the woods, letting her warm your bed?’
The insult was meant to provoke him into a fight, but he held steady, knowing it was what Hromund wanted. He stared toward the direction of the man’s voice, giving no answer. But he’d gladly tear him apart for his arrogant taunt. Kaall shifted his battleaxe into his right hand, balancing the weapon.
‘Go back home to your mother, Hromund.’
The snarl from the man alerted him that his enemy had changed positions. Kaall spun, holding his weapon ready.
‘I could take her from you now, Kaall, and you couldn’t stop me.’
‘Is that what you think?’ His voice was cold, revealing none of the raw energy coursing through him. It had been half a year since he’d faced an opponent, and it was a struggle to hold steady, revealing none of his fear.
‘Kaall, don’t fight over me.’ He could hear Rhiannon coming closer, as if trying to prevent the fight. But she didn’t know the sort of man Hromund was. He was more than a bully; he’d think nothing of forcing himself upon her.
‘Do you want him to claim you?’ he warned.
‘N-no, of course not.’
‘Then let me kill him for you.’
From beside him, her footsteps retreated. He wasn’t certain how far she’d gone, but at least she wouldn’t be in any danger of coming between them.
‘You couldn’t kill me if you wanted to, Kaall. You don’t even know where I am.’
He knew exactly where Hromund stood. The man’s voice pointed to his whereabouts, and the longer he kept his enemy talking, the better his chances of defeating him.
The sound of a blade unsheathing revealed the weapon his cousin intended to use. Kaall held still, pretending as if he didn’t know the man had circled behind him. Every ounce of his concentration, every sense he possessed, focused on this fight.
‘Come and find me...if you can,’ Hromund mocked.
He awaited the first strike. If he allowed the man to believe him weak, he had a better chance of winning the fight.
Like a serpent, Hromund struck, his blade slashing against Kaall’s bandaged arm. Though Rhiannon’s binding kept the blade from penetrating, he had no opportunity to seize the man before he darted away.
‘Your woman is better off with someone stronger. Someone who can defend her.’
Your woman. The words brought a protective edge to his mood, though he’d never considered Rhiannon in that way. He’d saved her life and given her shelter, nothing more. Once she returned home, she would forget about him. The thought cast a shadow over his mood, and he held the axe steady, waiting for the second strike.
‘She’s already gone to Vigus,’ Hromund informed him. ‘Because she knows you’re incapable of fighting.’
With that, Kaall reached out and caught the man’s tunic. He slashed the axe toward his enemy, and from the sudden twist in the man’s posture, he was able to locate Hromund’s throat.
In one swift motion, he moved behind the man, out of reach. ‘A blind man who’s good for nothing, isn’t that right?’ His forearm came across the man’s throat, not strangling him, but letting him know he could easily snap his neck.
‘Let him go,’ came the voice of Vigus. He could hear the disapproval in his father’s voice, but Kaall wasn’t about to release a man who had threatened Rhiannon. Instead, he held his position steady.
‘Kaall, please,’ Rhiannon begged. Her voice held fear, as though she, too, didn’t think him capable. He should have known that neither of them would. Frustration tightened his mood, and he exerted pressure against Hromund’s throat until the man’s knees buckled and he lost consciousness. At least now his enemy would pose no harm to her.
‘You shouldn’t have fought him,’ Vigus chided.
‘Because I would lose, is that it?’ He didn’t bother facing either of them, but turned his back, intending to return to Lína’s home.
‘Every man faces that danger,’ Vigus countered. ‘But you lack their abilities. It’s too dangerous.’
He’d known his father would say that. Vigus would rather hide him away from the world than allow him to fight. ‘Give me back Emla, and I won’t fight,’ he swore. ‘You won’t have to lay eyes on me again.’
‘I can’t do that, and you know it. Besides, she’s not—’
‘Or I’ll stay here among the others.’ He cut his father off, not wanting him to finish the sentence. ‘You won’t be able to hide me then.’
‘I’ve arranged for Emla to be fostered with the MacEgans,’ Vigus interjected. ‘It is best for her, and you know it.’
He could feel Rhiannon’s tension, but she took his hand in hers. ‘Your son gave me shelter, during the storm two nights ago. I would ask that he escort me home again.’ Not once did she mention her connection with the MacEgans, and he wondered why she’d omitted the information.
‘You would be better with a different escort,’ Vigus said. ‘I could arrange for someone else.’
‘No, I would prefer your son.’
‘He can’t find his way back home again.’
‘Then how do you suppose he brought me here?’ she countered. When his father gave no answer, she’d made her point.
‘I will take her back,’ Kaall promised. ‘And I won’t return here again.’
‘You didn’t have to leave the first time,’ Vigus said. ‘This is your home.’
‘Is it?’ He refused to believe it. They’d taken Emla from him before, and the last thing he wanted was to live among others who viewed him as a blind outcast.
His father said nothing, but told Rhiannon, ‘You are welcome to take a horse on your journey home.’
‘Thank you.’
Kaall walked with her toward the stables while one of the boys readied a horse for them. He helped her to mount and took the reins. He soothed the animal by touching the mare’s head, running his fingers over her mane, until she grew calm.
‘Ride with me,’ Rhiannon asked, after he’d walked alongside the animal outside the gates. ‘And then we’ll talk some more.’
He swung up behind her, urging the mare faster. The sooner he brought her back to Laochre, the sooner she could return to her life there. And he, in turn, intended to find out which of the MacEgans was fostering Emla so he could bring her back with him. He couldn’t let her believe he’d abandoned her—not after she’d lost her mother. Somehow, he would find a way.
* * *
Rhiannon’s mind churned with her own rising anger. His claim, that he didn’t want to hide behind her skirts, had been like a physical blow to her feelings.
Behind her, she felt the dark tension emanating from Kaall. He’d won the fight against Hromund, but his father had treated him like a child instead of a grown man. It was no wonder he resented his family. But it hadn’t been necessary to lash out at her.
When they reached the dolmen where she’d met Alanna and Cavan, she pulled the horse to a stop. Turning slightly, she dismounted and waited for Kaall to do the same.
‘We haven’t reached your uncle’s castle,’ he said.
‘No. I wanted to talk with you. I didn’t like what you said to
me during the fight.’
He swung down from the horse. The brooding energy hadn’t faded, and his blue eyes had turned angry. ‘I don’t need you to stand up for me, Rhiannon. I’ll fight my own battles.’
‘I was only trying to help.’
‘I didn’t need your help,’ he shot back. ‘And if you’d stayed where you were, you could have been hurt.’
‘I don’t think he—’
‘Oh, yes, he would have.’ Kaall strode toward her, his hand moving until he found her shoulders. ‘Hromund would have killed me and claimed you for himself. He’d have taken you to his hut and forced you.’ His hands moved to her waist, as if the jealousy were eating away at him. ‘I wasn’t about to let that happen.’
With shock, she realised that...he cared. He’d defended her, refusing to let any harm threaten her.
Kaall’s blue eyes held the intensity of a fighter, though his stoic face could have been carved from stone. Only the slight pressure of his hands upon her shoulders revealed any emotions. Her heart trembled inside, wondering if she was misreading him.
His hands came up to touch her hair, the gesture so quiet, she held her breath. Then his palms moved over her face as if he were trying to remember her. As if he were about to let her go.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, leaning in. Against her cheek, she felt the rapid beating of his heart. She wanted to give him something in return, a way of returning the favour.
‘I’ll try to find out where Emla is,’ she offered, ‘and I’ll talk to her foster parents on your behalf.’ She tried to remember if any young children had been brought to Laochre lately, and could not think of any girls. But the child could have been fostered with another family member who lived in the region.
‘You can’t,’ he said. ‘They think I’m a murderer, remember?’ He drew back and held the reins of the horse, waiting for her to mount again.
Instead of accepting his help, Rhiannon retreated to the dolmen, quelling the frustration inside. Kaall was right. The old wounds of loss hadn’t healed, and the MacEgans would never allow him to set foot within the gates.
Still, she wanted to try. He’d saved her twice now, and this was important to him. She closed her eyes, knowing that her feelings were on treacherous ground. Although outwardly, he was rough-mannered and harsh...inside, he possessed an inner strength, an unyielding refusal to give up on his daughter.
No longer did she fear that he would hurt her. But she was terrified of the way her defences crumbled when he was near. She’d tended him over the past two days, and at night, he’d pulled her against him, as if he needed the comfort of her presence. Lying in his arms at night had only awakened more dangerous desires.
The thought of returning home, never to see him again, left her cold in a way that had nothing to do with the winter. When she looked upon him, her mind and heart warred with desire and regret. Kaall Hardrata was a man she could never have. She should shield her heart at this very moment, letting him go.
‘Where are you standing?’ he asked, taking tentative steps toward the dolmen.
‘Here.’
The granite stone was frigid against her fingertips, and she stared into his blue, sightless eyes. Torment brewed behind them, of a man who hated his life.
‘I have to go back,’ she whispered.
‘You must.’ He reached out to her, and she placed her hand within his large palm. ‘After you enter those gates, you won’t see me again.’
A lonely ache caught within her throat. ‘If things were different,’ she murmured, ‘would you still ask me to leave?’
Moving closer, he rested his hands on either side of the stone dolmen. ‘You know what I am, Rhiannon.’
‘I know.’ She stepped forward, resting her hands against his chest. Unknown feelings rose up inside her, along with a longing she didn’t understand. She ached for his touch and the way his kiss had transformed her. ‘And if I said I wanted to stay?’
His hands moved into her hair, holding her face. ‘You could have any man you desired.’ In his voice, she heard the warning, but beneath it, lay a hint of hope.
‘There’s more to you than the others see. I believe that.’ She reached out a hand and rested it upon his heart.
He leaned in, his forehead touching hers. ‘You don’t belong with me, Rhiannon.’
The hunger in his eyes and the way he held her, gave her the courage she needed. Standing on tiptoe, she leaned in as close as she dared, murmuring against his mouth, ‘Do you want me to come back tomorrow?’ The slow burn of desire ignited between them, and the heat of his body reminded her of sleeping beside him.
‘No. I don’t want you to come back.’
The words were harsh, weapons meant to wound. She drew back, lowering her hands to her side. Her eyes burned with humiliation, until suddenly, he pressed her against the dolmen. Against her body, she could feel the dark fury of his temper rising. ‘I don’t want you to go at all.’
She reached up to his face and pulled him down into her kiss. His mouth was starving, of a man who’d been cast out by everyone else. And she knew how badly he needed her. She met his tongue with her own, pouring herself into it, and his hands moved down her body, pulling her close until she could feel his need. He rocked against her core, and she went liquid, her body tantalised by this forbidden man.
‘If I could, I’d take you now,’ he said against her throat, his hands moving her waist, to just below her breasts. ‘I’d learn every inch of you with my hands, until I could see you in my mind.’
She closed her eyes, guiding his hands higher, until he cupped her breasts. The fervid sensation made her breath catch, as his thumbs stroked the erect nipples.
‘The choice is yours, Rhiannon. You don’t have to return. But if you do...’ his mouth bent to her neck, his tongue sliding over her pulse ‘...I’m going to claim you as mine.’
Chapter Four
Rhiannon trembled, but said nothing. Kaall knew he’d pushed her too far, but it was better if she remained afraid of him and didn’t come back. With every moment he spent at her side, she made it harder to turn her away. This last kiss had shaken him, making him wonder why she would embrace a man like him when she could have any other.
But she likely wouldn’t return. She was an innocent, high-born, and meant for marriage. The distance between them was too great to be spanned, and no doubt she would regain her senses when she returned to her own people. Slowly, he drew back, holding her hand for a moment before he released her.
In the distance, he heard the sound of men approaching on horseback. Rhiannon inhaled sharply and confessed, ‘They’re searching for me,’ she told him. ‘If my father is with them...he can’t find us together.’
Kaall didn’t like hiding. Not at all.
But Rhiannon seized the horse, guiding it with one hand into the woods while she gripped his palm and led him with her. ‘Can you find your way back, with the horse?’ she asked.
He gave a nod, though it would take time to regain his bearings. Rhiannon handed over the reins and squeezed his hand. ‘I promise, I’ll come back.’
A strange hollowness clenched in his gut as he released her hand and voiced the words that needed to be said. ‘It’s better if you don’t.’
* * *
Rhiannon avoided her father’s men, making her own return to Laochre. Inside, it felt as if the past two days were nothing but a broken dream. She’d been stranded alone with a handsome, fierce warrior...and Kaall was just like all the others—avoiding her because of who she was. Though her mouth was still swollen from his kiss, it was her heart that held the bruises. As soon as she walked in the gates, her mother descended upon her, embracing her hard.
‘Oh, thank God you’re safe.’ Aileen MacEgan squeezed her tightly, touching her hair and breathing a sigh of relief. ‘We’ve been searching since yesterday. When we couldn’t find you—’ Her mother’s words broke off with fear.
‘I’m all right. I found shelter in a cavern.’ Piecing togeth
er the story, she told what truths she could, leaving out any mention of Kaall. Her mother brought her inside and ordered a meal of hot stew and bread. Though Rhiannon ate and answered more questions, she couldn’t stop thinking of Kaall.
In the background, she saw her cousin Brianna with a basket of pine boughs. The young woman was busy hanging them around the Hall, decorating for Christmas.
Guilt sank deeply into her, for she knew Brianna had not forgotten her husband’s death. The young woman still grieved for Murtagh. If she learned that Rhiannon had taken shelter with the man who had killed her husband, her cousin would never forgive her.
Worse, Rhiannon had kissed him. And she’d liked it far more than she should.
Kaall wasn’t a tame man, nor one who would ever fit into the role of a husband. Blind and carrying the weight of grief, he didn’t care about what anyone thought. He only wanted his daughter back. Melancholy sank into her, and she lost all appetite for food. Even if she did find out what had happened to Emla, he’d warned her not to return. Her hands drifted up to her lips with the phantom memory of his last kiss.
‘Rhiannon,’ her father called out to her. Connor MacEgan strode through the Hall, his face taut with worry. ‘Where were you?’
In his voice, she heard a father’s greatest fear, of losing her. Without responding to his question, she reached out and hugged his waist. He gripped her so hard, she could feel the tension in his embrace.
‘Well?’ he repeated. ‘Where did you spend these past two nights?’
‘I...took shelter in a cave in the woods,’ she said.
When he drew back, his blue eyes held wariness. ‘Cavan said you were helping a wounded man. Who was he, Rhiannon?’
She averted her gaze. ‘A wolf attacked me, but the man who saved me was hurt. Since he saved my life, I felt obligated to save his.’
‘You spent two nights alone, with a strange man?’ Her father’s tone had turned deadly, as if he intended to hunt the man down and murder him. She could only imagine what he would say if he learned Kaall was responsible for Murtagh’s death. He’d lock her away for the rest of her life.
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