by Donna Grant
Fallon already had her respect, and it wouldn’t take much more for her to care deeply for him. Once that happened, she wouldn’t be able to keep the Scroll from him.
She would have to keep her distance from him now. How was she going to endure seeing him day after day at his castle and not kiss him, not want his arms around her? It was going to be the most difficult thing she had ever done, but she didn’t have a choice.
Larena was ready for a new adventure even though it meant leaving Malcolm and being near a man who had touched her more deeply than she thought was possible. The connection between her and Fallon frightened her because it had been instantaneous, its pull too alluring to resist.
And she couldn’t afford another mistake like the one that had gotten her father killed.
Chapter Eleven
MacLeod Castle
Lucan stood beside his wife in the bailey as they surveyed the castle. Cara’s chestnut hair hung in a thick braid over her shoulder and her mahogany eyes looked up at him with a wealth of love that he never tired of seeing.
“Fallon is going to be so happy,” Cara said. “I can’t wait for him to see how much progress has been made on the castle.”
Lucan glanced at the new gate and then to one of the reconstructed towers. “Aye. I think he will be pleased. I hope he returns soon.”
“He will,” Cara declared. “He didn’t want to go, so I cannot imagine him staying longer than necessary in Edinburgh.”
Lucan smiled. He remembered when Fallon had volunteered to go. It was evident by his brother’s curled lip that he would rather face an army of Deirdre’s Warriors than go to the king’s castle, but Fallon had said it was his duty.
It was easy to see Fallon had felt useless at the castle. While all of them worked to rebuild the once magnificent structure, little progress had been made on finding the Scroll, or even any information on it.
Lucan still found it hard to believe Fallon had stopped drinking. Lucan didn’t know how long it would last, but he was happy to have his brother back again.
Now, they just had to rescue Quinn.
“We’ll get him,” Cara said.
He glanced down at his wife and kissed her forehead. Her powers as a Druid had grown since Sonya had arrived. “Reading my mind are you?”
“Nay, husband,” she said with a mischievous smile. “I just know what you’re thinking by the way your lips compress. Don’t work too hard.”
Lucan watched Cara return to the castle to work with Sonya on spells that might help them bind their gods. There was much he needed to do, but his mind was on his brothers. He worried about them constantly.
Quinn was strong, but was he tough enough to endure Deirdre? And Fallon. He hadn’t been away from the castle in over two hundred years. He had just given up the wine, and he was still learning to control the god inside him.
Lucan prayed his brothers could withstand what destiny had put before them. They were stronger together since they shared the same god. He didn’t like them being parted.
He breathed in the sea air. “Hurry, Fallon. Please hurry.”
Larena leaned her hands back on the bench and looked up at the castle. Fallon had been gone longer than she expected. Was he having trouble finding the wyrran?
Just then she spotted one of the yellow creatures near her balcony and another at the castle’s roof. She had no idea what they were about, but she couldn’t sit here and wait for Fallon.
Larena jumped from her seat and hurried into the castle and up to her chamber. When she threw open the door, however, there was no wyrran to be seen. She listened to the sounds of the castle, waiting to hear the frightened shrieks as before, but none came.
Just where were the wyrran?
A sound on her balcony drew her gaze. When she saw the two Warriors, her heart froze in her chest.
She eyed the Warrior with skin so dark blue it looked almost black. He had wings that he folded against his back and that loomed over his head. He kept his gaze on her as he walked into her chamber as if he had every right to be there. Neither Warrior wore tunic or shoes, just loose breeches that hung low on their hips.
“Get out.” She was proud that her voice sounded steady and commanding since she felt anything but. She didn’t know why they were there, but she wouldn’t unleash her goddess unless she had no other choice.
“That we cannot do,” said the second Warrior, with pale green skin and short black hair. “We’ve come for you after all.”
Larena knew the door to freedom was exactly fifteen steps from where she stood. She couldn’t reach it before the Warriors got to her, so she didn’t think twice about escaping.
She decided to play dumb instead. “Is this some new costume the king has ordered for a masked ball? You are very frightening to look upon. And my brother will not approve of another man in my chamber, much less two.”
The dull green Warrior’s lips peeled back over his fangs as he growled. “Do not play coy with me, Larena Monroe. You know what we are.”
“All right.” She dropped all pretenses. “Why are you here?”
“As I said, we’re here for you. Deirdre is looking forward to meeting you.”
“Deirdre has never known of me. Why am I now of such interest?”
The pale green Warrior tilted back his head and laughed while the blue Warrior cocked his head to the side, his shoulder-length blond hair falling against his face. His eyes were intense as they studied her. Larena didn’t know which she feared more, the quiet one with wings, or the angry one.
It was the pale green Warrior who answered. “You’re of interest as a female Warrior. You see, the wyrran you killed the other night wasn’t the only one at the castle.”
Larena’s stomach dropped to her feet like lead. Sweat broke out over her skin, turning her palms clammy. If she had stayed with Fallon, she wouldn’t be in this mess.
Sooner or later they would have cornered you.
“Why did Deirdre send wyrran here?” she asked.
“A seer told her Fallon had come,” the winged one answered.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and lifted a brow. “I have no interest in going with either of you. Give Deirdre my thanks for the invitation, but I’m going to have to decline.”
Larena could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on the winged Warrior’s face, but it was gone so quickly she couldn’t be sure. As she expected, the pale green Warrior was the one who attacked.
She waited until he was almost upon her before she let her goddess out. She allowed herself a brief smile at the Warrior’s startled expression before she launched herself at him.
Robena had done her job well. Larena knew how to protect herself but part of that defense had been hiding. Now that Deirdre knew of her, Larena would be battling Warrior after Warrior.
If you get free.
She wanted to scream for Fallon, but even if she did, he would never hear her. Malcolm was just in the next chamber, but she couldn’t chance him coming in and getting injured, or worse — killed.
Larena let her claws sink into the back of the pale green Warrior and raked them down to his waist. The Warrior bellowed and swung a meaty fist at her, connecting with her cheek before she could turn herself invisible.
She staggered away, dark spots blinking before her eyes. Something tore at first one arm and then the other. She didn’t need to look to know the Warrior had used his claws on her. Blood seeped from her wounds down to her own claws to drip onto the floor.
No matter how many times she tried to clear her vision, she couldn’t. The hit had addled her brain. She wasn’t thinking clearly, and if she couldn’t get her head together, she wouldn’t be able to get away.
Larena could sense the Warrior was close. She closed her eyes to stop the room from spinning and kicked out with her foot. There was a heavy thud and a grunt to let her know she had knocked the Warrior off his feet.
“Don’t make this harder,” someone said in her ear.
T
he dark blue Warrior. He had let the other battle her. Why? “I won’t go.”
“You have no choice,” he said.
She shook her head and jerked out of his arms. She opened her eyes and saw that her chamber tilted from one side to the next. Her feet tripped over themselves as she tried to get to the balcony. She would jump if she had to, anything to get away.
Before she reached the terrace, the pale green Warrior bellowed and grabbed her ankle. Larena caught herself from falling just in time. She kicked with her foot and landed a hit on the Warrior’s face. In an instant he was on his feet, his lips pulled back in another snarl to show his fangs.
“You will pay for that,” he growled.
She saw his claws come at her, and though she tried to turn away, she wasn’t quick enough. Larena bit back a scream as his claws plunged into her right side.
As a Warrior, she healed, but it always hurt to get injured. Her arms stung from the scratches, but it was nothing like the burning in her side. She clutched at her wound, feeling the blood flow thick and fast through her fingers.
“What have you done?” demanded the winged Warrior to the other.
The pale green Warrior shrugged and studied his left claws. “She shouldna have kicked me in the face.”
“You wouldna dare.” He spoke through clenched teeth, his fangs cutting his lips. “Deirdre will have your head.”
The other laughed and walked to the balcony. Without a backward glance he jumped from the railing.
Larena stumbled as lights began blinking in her vision. She reached for the posts of the bed to steady herself. The bleeding should have slowed by now, and the pain should have receded. She glanced down at her side and saw the blood was gushing so rapidly that it coated her gown.
“I’m sorry.”
She turned her head to the winged Warrior. “What did he do?”
“He dipped his one set of claws in drough blood. Your wounds willna heal, Larena. You need to find help, find Fallon. You must stop the bleeding before it’s too late.”
The longer she stood, the weaker she got. She let herself sink onto the bench before her bed. “Why are you helping me?”
“Deirdre wants you alive. I’d rather not have my hide ripped from my body because of an incompetent fool.”
Before she could ask more, he was gone. She focused on keeping herself breathing. A couple of times she hollered for Malcolm, but the sound wasn’t loud enough to carry into the next chamber.
She wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed when the banging started on her door. She was slumped over the bench with blood everywhere. The ache from her wound had spread to her entire body, and each pump of her heart was like someone pouring fire in her veins.
The door swung open, and suddenly Malcolm was kneeling before her.
“My God, Larena. What happened? Why aren’t you healing?”
She licked her lips. “N … no time. Fallon.”
“I’ll get him.” Malcolm kissed her forehead and then raced from the chamber.
Larena tried to stay conscious so she could tell Fallon about her wound, but fate conspired against her. She blacked out on her next breath.
Fallon turned from killing a wyrran to finding three more waiting for him. As he began to chase after those, he spotted more climbing the outside of the castle.
“What is going on?” he grumbled to himself.
He easily caught two of the three wyrran he was chasing and bashed their heads together. With his strength, it killed them instantly. As much as he wanted to chase after the third, he had to get rid of the three he had already killed.
Fallon lifted the two wyrran at his feet and hurried back to the first he had killed. It was while he was returning from the forest that he saw Malcolm running toward him.
Malcolm gripped his arms, his blue eyes wide and darting around him. “Thank God I finally found you. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
That’s when Fallon noticed the stain on Malcolm’s blue vest. “What happened?”
“It’s Larena. You need to come with me right now. She’s hurt, Fallon.”
Fallon said no more as he followed Malcolm. They kept their pace more sedate than Fallon would have liked, but because Malcolm kept looking around him, Fallon understood something awful had happened.
As they climbed the stairs toward Larena’s chambers a servant went rushing by them, tears on her face. A moment later two ladies walked down the stairs, their hands covering their mouths as they whispered.
Fallon’s chest tightened. Larena was a Warrior, which meant her body healed on its own and very quickly. There was nothing that could kill her except cutting off her head.
“Malcolm?”
“Not yet,” the younger man said.
They reached the landing and turned the corner to walk down the corridor to Larena’s chamber when Fallon saw the crowd. People, lords and ladies and servants alike, milled about the doorway to Larena’s chamber.
“Let us through.” Malcolm’s voice boomed through the conversation.
The crowd parted. Fallon glanced at a few people as he followed Malcolm through the doorway. And then he stopped cold.
Larena was on the bench before her bed slumped over, with blood everywhere. A man knelt beside her and put his finger beneath her nose. Fallon couldn’t breathe. His vision swam and the voices around him faded as if he were in a tunnel. It was a hand on his arm that brought him back to the present.
Malcolm’s trembling fingers dug into his arm. “There was a man who attacked her,” Malcolm told the physician who rose from beside Larena.
“Did you get a look at him, my lord?”
Malcolm swallowed and glanced at Larena. “He had black hair. He rushed past me when I entered. I didn’t get a good look at his face.”
“I’ll report the death. My condolences, my lord. Lady Larena was well liked. Shall I take the body?”
“Nay,” Malcolm said, a little too hastily.
Fallon hid his wince, but couldn’t take his eyes off Larena. He stood to the side as people filed out of the chamber. Malcolm closed and bolted the door before he turned to Fallon.
“You must help her,” Malcolm said.
Fallon put a hand on Malcolm as he started past him toward Larena. “What happened?”
“She was attacked. I don’t know by what or who, but that is her blood all over her.”
Fallon felt as if someone punched him in the gut. He rushed to Larena and lifted her head. He put his cheek by her nose and waited to see if she breathed. It was faint, so weak it was barely detectable.
“She’s not dead, not yet at least,” he told Malcolm. “Tell me everything.”
Malcolm gripped the bedpost and cleared his throat. “I came in to find her just as she is. Blood gushed between her fingers as she held her hand over the wound. I asked her what happened and she told me there wasn’t time. Then she said your name. I left immediately to find you.”
“Did you tell anyone?” Fallon let one of his claws lengthen before he sliced open her gown. He tugged all her clothes off but her chemise. Everything was soaked in blood. He found her wound and ripped the chemise so he could see the injury better.
“Nay, no one,” Malcolm answered. “A servant must have come in and found her.”
Fallon saw the five slices in her side and cursed.
Malcolm moved closer to look. “What is it?”
“It wasn’t a man, Malcolm. A Warrior was here. He’s the one that attacked her.”
“Oh, God.” Malcolm staggered to the bed and sat. “How? Why?”
“I’m hoping Larena can tell us.” Icy sweat covered Fallon’s skin. He couldn’t remember ever being so frightened in his life. He had foolishly thought he wouldn’t have to worry about Larena dying, that he would be spared what Lucan went through every day. What an idiot he had been. She was in his arms dying even now.
He wanted to howl at the injustice, but more than that he wanted to find the Warrior who had dared to hurt her and
tear him limb from limb. He reached for her skirts and tore off a long thick strip that he wrapped around her to help stop the flow of blood.
With Malcolm’s help they removed the bell hoop from beneath her skirts so it would be easier for Fallon to carry her.
Fallon put his arm under Larena’s shoulders and hugged her against him. “Larena? Can you hear me?”
Had he failed someone again so soon? He was trying to make himself into the man his father had wanted him to be, but everything he did backfired on him.
When Larena didn’t respond, Fallon gave her a little shake. He couldn’t stand not knowing what happened, or why the Warrior had attacked her and not him as well. Had the wyrran been a diversion so they could get to Larena? It made sense and angered him like nothing else could have.
“Has she ever been injured like this before?” he asked, and looked up to find Malcolm watching him with red-rimmed eyes.
“Aye,” Malcolm answered after a moment. “She’s always healed.”
“They had to have done something. That’s the only reason she would not have healed right away. I can’t help her, not here, but the Druids at my castle can.”
Malcolm stood. “Then take her. Now. I’ll deal with things here.”
“I need something to cover her with.”
Malcolm rose and returned a moment later with a cloak in his hands. It took both of them to get it on her, and then Fallon lifted her in his arms. Her head fell to his shoulders and her eyelids fluttered.
“Larena,” he said. “Can you hear me?”
“Fallon,” she whispered.
“Aye, I’m here. What happened?”
“W … Warrior.”
Fallon clenched his jaw. “Did he mean to kill you?”
She shook her head. “D … d…”
“Deirdre?” he supplied.
She opened her eyes and gave a single nod.
“God’s teeth,” Malcolm cursed. “How? How did she know?”
Fallon shook his head. “Deirdre is very powerful. There are many ways she could have learned of Larena.”