by Donna Grant
Just thinking of Quinn brought a rush of longing to her limbs and dampness between her legs. Ever since Deirdre had first seen Quinn she had coveted him. She had sensed the reckless power inside Quinn, seen the fury that consumed him. He was the perfect partner to rule beside her and fulfill the prophecy.
And she would convince him.
Deirdre leaned her face against the cool rocks and closed her eyes. Talk to me, she demanded of the stones.
“We are yours. Command us.”
She relaxed shoulders she hadn’t realized were tense. The stones had a way of soothing her as nothing else could. It was one of the reasons she didn’t leave her mountain. Why should she when she had her kingdom all around her?
“The Warriors come. Empty-handed.”
Deirdre whirled away from the stones and faced the doorway. This was twice her Warriors had returned without her prize. First, it was Cara, and now Larena Monroe.
James’s tall, thick body filled the doorway. He paused and bowed his head before he moved into the light. The candles from the chandelier that hung from the ceiling shed its golden light on his pale green skin.
“Where is she?” Deirdre demanded.
“Ask James,” Broc said as he entered the chamber.
Deirdre shifted her gaze to the blue-skinned Warrior. She longed to touch his wings as his cock filled her. Maybe tonight she would take him to her bed. “Tell me,” she demanded of James.
“She fought back.”
Deirdre raised a brow. “And you expected she wouldn’t? I told you she was a female Warrior. Didn’t she transform in front of you?”
James gave a nonchalant shrug. “She’s quick.”
Deirdre blew out a breath and turned to Broc. “Tell me what happened.”
“James cut her with the claws he dipped in drough blood.”
Rage consumed her. How could James have been so stupid? Deirdre raised her hand, her magic rushing through her, and James slammed against the stones with the force of her power. None of them knew just what kind of dark magic dwelled within her. Maybe it was time they learned.
“Bind him,” she ordered the mountain.
James began to scream as the stones moved to lock around his arms, legs, and head. When he was secure Deirdre moved to stand in front of him. He dangled a few feet off the floor as he continued to try to jerk free of the rocks.
“The only way you’ll get loose is if Larena lives. If she dies, James, the torture I have for you will last for centuries.”
The Warrior swallowed and lowered his eyes to the floor. Deirdre turned away and tried to rein in her anger. The Warriors were hers because they couldn’t control the fury inside them, and that wrath sometimes prevented them from bringing her what she wanted.
“Broc, where is Larena now?”
The winged Warrior shrugged and crossed his arms over his thick chest. “We know Larena and Fallon have been spending time together. There is the possibility that he took her back to his castle.”
“Find out,” she demanded. “I need to know whether Larena is alive. I need her in my army, Broc. Do you understand?”
He bowed his head. “Aye, mistress. I will depart immediately.”
Broc left Deirdre, but instead of taking the stairs to the right, he turned left and walked down the long corridor before he found another set of stairs and descended into the darkness. He had once tried to count the steps, but had stopped at four hundred. Broc wasn’t sure how far down the stairway went, but he knew it was several hundred feet below ground.
He paused when he reached the end and listened. There was a multitude of small chambers that were sectioned by bars. This was one of Deirdre’s dungeons. It was a place where she put a man to break him. None who were put in the darkness came out whole.
Broc heard the mournful cries of women and flexed his shoulders, his wings opening partway. Druids, he surmised. He never understood how Deirdre continued to find them, but she did. It was her black magic and link to evil of course. Yet, part of him wondered if the rumors of Deirdre having a seer were true.
Each of the Druids would fight her, but in the end, Deirdre always won. Just as with Isla. The petite black-haired Druid was another of Deirdre’s pawns. But then again, they all were.
The men in the prisons were either Druids, or those she thought could be turned into Warriors. There was only one here who was already a Warrior.
Broc turned right and wandered down the hallway. None of the prisoners rushed toward the bars. They stayed in the darkness, but Broc felt their eyes on him, felt their hatred for what he was.
He understood all too well about loathing and disgust.
About halfway down he found what he was looking for. Quinn MacLeod. The Warrior refused to transform for Deirdre. She had him beaten over and over again and kept him chained to the wall. The chains held him upright, and if Quinn couldn’t keep his feet underneath him, his arms and shoulders would feel the brunt of the pain.
“What do you want?” came a muffled voice from the darkness.
Broc’s keen eyesight saw Quinn in the blackness. The Warrior had blood oozing down the side of his face from a cut on his forehead. It looked as though one of his arms had been jerked out of the socket and a leg broken.
“They worked you over well,” Broc commented.
Quinn chuckled. “Have you come to give me more?”
“Not this time, though I’m sure Deirdre will send me soon enough.”
“Then what do you want?” Quinn’s voice was laced with loathing.
Broc wondered how close Quinn was to transforming. Everyone knew Quinn’s fury had ridden him for three hundred years. So much so that he hadn’t been able to control his god. Yet, now in Deirdre’s prison, he kept that anger on a tight leash, much to Deirdre’s ire.
“Do you think you can withstand her?”
Quinn’s nostrils flared as he glared at Broc. “I can. And I will.”
Broc stared at the Warrior for a few more moments. “Maybe you can, MacLeod. Maybe you can.”
Chapter Fourteen
Fallon woke to a pain in his chest like nothing he had ever felt before, and it wasn’t from a wound. It was from betrayal. He couldn’t even rejoice in the fact he was once more home. Somehow he had managed to fall asleep without giving in to his need for the wine.
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head in his hands. There was a throbbing in his skull that had nothing to do with wine, though he wished it were otherwise.
The darkness of the chamber told him it was nighttime, though he had no idea how long he had slept. His exhaustion and loss of blood had pulled him into a deep sleep, despite the fact that his mind couldn’t stop thinking of Larena and what she had kept from him.
He rubbed his chest, wondering why it ached so. The more he thought of Larena, the more the hurt spread.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand why she hadn’t told him. What hurt was that she hadn’t trusted him enough to even tell him she had it. Did she think he would take it from her? She should have known him better than that.
We were only together a few hours.
Fallon sighed. It seemed as if he had known Larena for centuries, not hours. She had trusted him enough to show him she was a Warrior, but apparently she didn’t trust him enough to tell him about the Scroll.
That was how it was in his life. There was never enough for him.
He pushed to his feet. He was tired of feeling sorry for himself. His self-pity had sustained him for three hundred years. No more would he allow it to rule his life.
There was a soft knock on the door before it opened and Cara poked her head inside. She smiled when she saw him standing. “Lucan was getting worried about you,” she said as she pushed the door wider.
“How long have I slept?”
“Just a few hours. I set aside a trencher of food for you, even though Galen tried to take it.”
Fallon found himself grinning. “I suppose Galen is eating us out of the
castle.”
“Just about,” Cara said with a chuckle. “His appetite is never ending. I make two extra loaves of bread a day just for him. By noon, they’re gone.”
Fallon eyed his sister-in-law. “How have things been?”
“They’ve been good. Lucan has missed you, more than he’s let on, but I can see it. He was lost for a couple of days with both you and Quinn gone, but he found his way.”
“With your help.”
Cara shrugged. “I do what I can, but Lucan is very stubborn. We’re all glad you’re back.”
“I didna accomplish anything. The king wasn’t there. He prefers to rule Scotland from his palace in London. What has our country come to?”
She walked to him and laid a hand on his arm. “The world is constantly changing, Fallon. You and your brothers haven’t seen it like I have. It will take you all a while to become accustomed to it.”
“I fear one day Scotland will lose herself to England completely.”
“Not as long as there are men like you and Lucan.”
Fallon wrapped his arms around Cara and gave her a hug. “Thank you for everything, but most especially thank you for loving my brother.”
She tilted her head up and kissed his cheek. “Loving Lucan is the easy part.” She pulled out of his arms and walked to the door. “Are you coming downstairs?”
“Aye.”
“She’s doing much better, by the way, though she hasn’t woken.”
Fallon nodded before Cara left the chamber. He had been curious about Larena’s recovery, but he hadn’t been able to ask. As usual, his sister-in-law was able to read him easily.
He wasn’t surprised to find a tunic and breeches laid out at the foot of the bed. Lucan knew him too well. Fallon changed out of his kilt before he headed below.
He stopped at the head of the stairs leading to the great hall and let his eyes take it all in. Lucan had built a bigger table. The other one was still in the hall with a blond Warrior using it. Hayden sat with both legs stretched out before him taking up the entire bench.
“Fallon,” Logan called as he walked out of the kitchen and took the bench opposite Hayden.
Fallon waved to the youngest Warrior of their group. Logan’s brown hair was damp, as though he had recently bathed.
“Finally,” Lucan said as he waved Fallon to him. “Cara managed to save you some food from Galen’s constantly empty stomach.”
Fallon walked down the steps to the men’s jesting with Galen. He stopped at the foot of the table where an empty chair stood. His chair. Another empty spot was on his left where Quinn should have been. He glanced to his right where Lucan sat.
Next to Lucan was Cara. On the other side of Cara was Galen Shaw. His dark blue eyes met Fallon’s as he nodded. Across from Galen was Ramsey MacDonald. Ramsey was a man of few words, but his keen insight was useful.
Ramsey gave Fallon a welcoming smile, his gray eyes crinkling at the corners. Beside Ramsey was Sonya, the red-haired Druid who had come to them just weeks ago. Fallon then nodded to Hayden and Logan at the opposite table before he took his seat.
“I see you’ve made a bigger table,” Fallon said to his brother. Much had been done while he was away, and he was anxious to see how far they had come on the castle.
Lucan laughed and glanced at Hayden and Logan. “There’s enough room for those two with us, but they prefer to eat alone.”
“I couldn’t let Hayden eat by himself,” Logan said. “Besides, I spent more time protecting my food from Galen than eating.”
The hall erupted with laughter. Fallon looked at Hayden. The big blond Warrior had a hatred for drough that went deep, so deep he had threatened to kill Cara despite Cara’s never undergoing the blood ritual that would make her a drough. Hayden and Cara stayed away from each other, but everyone knew the day would come when something was likely to happen.
Fallon waited until the chatter quieted down before he spoke. “I’m sure all of you know about Larena by now.”
“I told them,” Galen said.
Hayden leaned an elbow on the table. “Is she really a Warrior? Did you see her change?”
“I did,” Fallon answered. “She has a goddess inside her, not a god, which is why I think the goddess chose a woman instead of a man.”
“Do you know the name of the goddess?” Ramsey asked.
Fallon nodded. “Lelomai, goddess of defense.”
“Hmm,” Galen said. “What kind of powers does she have?”
Fallon thought back to the first time he saw her disappear. He had been dumbstruck that she had been able to do such a thing. It would definitely come in handy in a war. “She has the usual powers of sight and hearing, but she can make herself unseen.”
“Do you mean to say she can make herself invisible?” Lucan asked.
“I do. I doona know much about her goddess, but apparently there are some differences. It could be because Larena is female, or because she has a goddess inside her. When we turn, it is just our skin and eyes that change. With Larena, even her hair changes.”
“To what?” Logan asked.
“She shimmers.” It was the best Fallon could do to explain it. “You can see every color imaginable on her, but it’s muted.”
Cara smiled and placed her hand over Lucan’s on the table. “It sounds beautiful.”
“It is.” The words were out of Fallon’s mouth before he could stop them.
“So what happened in Edinburgh?” Ramsey wanted to know.
Fallon shrugged. “The king wasn’t in residence. He rules from London, so I wasn’t able to speak to him. However, Lorena’s cousin has the king’s ear and sent him a missive. I’m hoping to hear something soon. If not, I may have to take a trip to London.”
Hayden tapped his finger on the table to get Fallon’s attention. “And the Scroll? Did you learn if it was real or not?”
Though he and Lucan might not take the ring from Larena, Fallon wasn’t going to risk a chance that the others might discover her secret. Not yet anyway. “I learned nothing of importance.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Fallon saw Lucan’s brow furrow. He faced his brother and held his stare. “We’ll get Quinn out.”
“I have no doubt,” Lucan said.
But Fallon knew he did. It was written all over his face.
Chapter Fifteen
Fallon walked along the battlements. The constant wind whipped his hair about. He stared out over the sea that churned in the darkness, the water reflecting the moon’s glow.
It was a beautiful night, one he had wanted to share with Larena. Fallon knew he shouldn’t feel betrayed, but he did. He understood all too well the need to keep secrets. Yet, he had imagined things were different with him and Larena since they were both Warriors. How could he have been so stupid?
It was her kisses.
It was everything about Larena from her sharp mind to the regal way she moved to the feel of her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust inside her.
Maybe it was because he had seen Lucan and Cara fall in love before his very eyes, but Fallon had felt something deep for Larena and something strong, special. He had thought she felt it too.
“I knew I would find you here,” Lucan said as he came up beside him.
“I wanted to see the water and smell the salt in the air.” Though Fallon had missed his brother, he wasn’t up for conversation just now. But if he knew Lucan, Fallon wouldn’t have a chance to deflect any questions.
Lucan was quiet for several moments as if gathering his thoughts. “Was it difficult for you in Edinburgh?”
Fallon shook his head as he remembered. “I hated every moment of it. You cannot trust anyone, and the gossip is unbelievable. Everyone there is out for themselves first and foremost.”
“Yet you survived it.”
Fallon blew out a breath and braced his hands on the stone wall in front of him. “Barely. I wasn’t there verra long.”
“Larena helped you, didn’t she?”
&nbs
p; “Aye.” There was no sense lying to his brother.
Lucan turned his back to the wall and leaned against it as his head swiveled to Fallon. “She told you what she was. That must have taken a lot of faith in you.”
“She told me because she wanted me to bring her here and help protect her from Deirdre. I’d like to think she trusted me, but I think fear ruled her more than anything.” Even as he said it, Fallon knew he was lying to himself. It had taken a great amount of courage for Larena to show him what she was.
“What happened there, Fallon? You’ve come back a changed man.”
Fallon looked at Lucan and smiled wryly. “Worse?”
“Better. I think it was Larena’s influence.”
“Maybe,” Fallon admitted. “I saw her and wanted her. I’ve never felt lust like that before. Every man in Edinburgh wanted her.”
“What was she doing there?”
Fallon grinned. “She and her cousin, Malcolm, were there to look for information about Deirdre. She was tenacious and confronted me in my own chamber when she learned who I was.”
Lucan chuckled then. “The beautiful woman whom you thought you couldn’t have arrives in your chamber. I gather you didna resist her?”
“I tried, but in the end I didn’t want to.”
“Mother always told us everything happens for a reason.”
Fallon looked back out at the water. He could hear the waves breaking against the cliffs. How many times had he stood in this exact spot and watched the water? So many times, and always it had soothed him. But not tonight.
“How old is Larena?” Lucan asked.
“A hundred, or thereaboots.”
“I’m curious how Deirdre didn’t know of her existence until now,” Lucan said into the silence.
Fallon repeated Larena’s tale, and when he finished, Lucan whistled long and low.
“She’s been alone most of the time,” Fallon said. “She’s survived on her wits and courage, as well as her mistrust of everyone. Only recently has Malcolm accompanied her.”
“Malcolm has put himself in an incredible amount of danger.”