His mouth tightened. “None will harm you!”
The determination within his voice left her shaken. “Aedan,” she urged, “there must be another way.”
He eyed her a long moment, his expression dark with anger; then his body relaxed a degree. “We will leave here. Before we go, we will convince them you are dead.”
If they could, it would be an immense relief. “How?”
“The cliffs are but a few leagues to the west. We will travel there. Then, you will toss your clothes over the edge into the sea. Once we have hidden, you will scream, and the men in search of you will come running.”
Simple, yet effective. “With my clothes floating atop the waves, they will believe that guilt-laden, I have jumped to my death.”
“Aye. More important, they will end their search and report to the others that you have died.”
“And what about the false evidence you were to leave to convince your betrayer you are dead?” Rowan asked.
“Once the men searching for you have departed, we will return, and I will finish the task.”
A man’s voice echoed nearby.
Aedan caught her hand. “Hurry.” With keen night vision, he guided her through the forest. Soon, the rich sting of salt grew in the air, the ground soft with the moisture from the sea. He pushed aside the limb of a thick fir, and she gasped.
“ ’Tis beautiful.”
Cliffs, battered by wind and time, stood illuminated by the moonlight. Blasts of white erupted against the ragged stone where the surf pounded the sheer wall of rock below.
“Aye, ’tis a bonny sight, one I never tire of.” He led her forward. Near the edge, he released her, nodded. “Go ahead and remove your garb.”
However foolish, the thought of disrobing before Aedan left her shy.
Tenderness touched his face. “After the ways I have touched you, kissed you everywhere, there is no reason to be bashful.”
Heat burned her cheeks. “Must you read my thoughts?”
He gave a soft chuckle. Always would she amaze him. Aedan lifted her chin with his thumb, bent to place a soft kiss upon her mouth. “I will not look.”
Seconds later, the whisper of clothes sounded in the night, awakening images of her naked within his mind. His body ached to take her again, her sweet taste still warm upon his lips.
“I am done,” Rowan said.
“Cast your clothes over the edge.”
The flutter of clothes melded with the rush of waves.
His body hardened. Stealing but one glimpse of her lush body, he covered her nakedness with his cloak, then led her to the nearby bushes. “Now scream.”
Rowan’s yell pierced the night.
“Over there!” a distant voice called.
The thud of footsteps grew. Between the ripple of leaves, torchlight cast slashes of yellow upon the sway of grass and jagged rock.
“The tracks lead this way,” a man snarled, his burr deep.
“Aye,” replied another. “Toward the cliffs.”
Fractured torchlight illuminated the men as they drew near, their faces mottled with anger.
Rage churned within Aedan as he struggled against the urge to kill those who would dare harm Rowan. Though he’d promised not to touch them, neither would he risk these men’s catching sight of her. Within his mind he beckoned the air, thick with moisture from the sea.
Around them mist grew, thickening to a slow, subtle sweep of white.
The nearest Scot rubbed his arms, his scraggly beard accenting a weathered face lined with a grimace. “Blasted cold tonight.”
“Aye,” another man replied, shrewd eyes scanning his surroundings, “and looking as if ’twill be foggy as well.”
Rowan stiffened.
Fury wrapped around Aedan. These are the men who have been chasing you, aye?
Surprise widened her eyes. We can speak through our thoughts?
He nodded.
The men, are they the ones after you?
Aye. The bastards, ’twould sate many an urge to slay them. He rubbed Rowan’s arms, waited. Once the men saw the garments floating on the surf and departed for their clan, he would take her far away.
“Step with care, lads,” called a man leading the group who had a deep scar slashed across his lower jaw. “I can hear the pounding of water. The cliffs are near.”
A redheaded man close to the carved rock lifted his torch, the shudder of flames casting harsh shadows against his face. “The edge is over here.” He took several cautious steps, paused and leaned forward.
“Do you see anything?” called a man farther to the back.
“Aye,” the redheaded man answered. “A woman’s gown floats upon the waves.”
The man with the scraggly beard halted before the edge. He peered over, grunted. “ ’Twas the lass’s scream we heard when she jumped.”
“Looks as if the witch killed herself,” the man with the scar across his jaw grumbled. “Saves us the blasted trouble.”
“Do you think she’s dead?” a tall man asked as he moved to stand beside the others.
Silence descended upon the shoddy group, and Rowan tensed at Aedan’s side. He covered her hand with his, gave a subtle mental push to the tall man holding doubt.
Gnarled fingers tugging at his scraggly beard, he shrugged. “Aye, the lass is dead; the clothes are proof. Besides, I see nay tracks leading away. Let us return to our clan. ’Tis good news we will bring.”
“Aye,” the redheaded man said as he stepped back.
Murmurs of agreement followed the group as they faded into the forest, broken torchlight spitting like evil whispers in their wake.
Rowan relaxed at Aedan’s side. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“The mist.”
He lifted her hand, pressed a kiss upon her palm. “Only for you. Come, we must return to the cave. Once I am done, we will leave.” The mist cloaked them as they walked, the coolness offering little relief from the heat of his need for her, which had been inflamed by his awareness of her nakedness beneath his cloak.
At the cave, Aedan halted. “Wait here.” He entered the circle, sensing the immediate slow drain of his energy. Posthaste, he stacked kindling in an outline of where he’d lain and then used his dagger to cut a swath of his hair. He laid the strands atop the wood, then hurried outside the ring of ancient stones.
Focused on the branches, he gathered his power. Wisps of smoke curled, then burst into flame, the odor of burning hair strong. Within minutes, the roaring fire faded, leaving behind only ashes.
Soft footsteps echoed behind him, stilled. “Now, whoever has betrayed you will believe you are dead.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “As those searching for you at the cliffs believe you.”
A tense silence fell between them, one laden with shadows. “ ’Tis time to leave.”
Rowan glanced up. “Where will we go?”
“To a place known only to lairds and members of high regard within the coven.”
“A laird.” Though soft, her words held tension.
“Aye,” he said, “but I am a simple person, one who desperately needs you.”
“Simple? Nay, Aedan, there is nothing simple about you.” She stilled.
“What?”
Beneath the star-filled sky, her unsure eyes met his. “I will give birth to a princess.”
“Or a prince.”
Her brows arched. “Do you know?”
“Nay.” Before she asked or said anything else, he wrapped her within his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you where you will be safe.” He envisioned the sweep of mist, the cool moisture filling his pores, shattering his form in a violent rush. A whoosh exploded within his mind. Fragments of his body imploded, splintered into droplets. In a vaporous swirl, he cradled Rowan and flew north, her gasp lost to the echo of time, the frantic passage of air unbound.
A short while later Rowan fought the blur within her head.
�
��Steady, lass.”
Strong hands held her, and Aedan’s smile came into focus, full of pride and arrogance. She touched her temple. “What just happened?”
“I have brought you to my ancestral home.”
They’d traveled?
“Aye,” he said.
“Why did you not warn me that you would shift?”
“ ’Twould have taken too long.”
She blew out a frustrated sigh, turned to take in her surroundings. Darkness clung to the land. No, stars shimmered within the sky. The moonlight outlined wisps of battered clouds moving slowly in the night and the peaks jutting skyward around them with merciless care.
Rowan spun to face him. “We are atop a mountain!”
“We are.” Pride coated his voice. “ ’Tis the Cullinthe of Skye, land passed down through generations, a place shown to me in my youth.”
Within the sheen of weakening night, the fading moonlight accented the approaching dawn. Like a painting of grandeur, the rugged mountains tumbled before her in an endless array.
Through a cut in the formidable stone, the ocean came into view. Waves surged ashore, washed over the lavish array of rocks as a layer of fog wove through the shoreline.
Touched, she met Aedan’s gaze. “All my life, each night when I found my bed, I thought of the morrow, of the warmth of the sun upon the land and its rays upon my face.” She exhaled, the magnificence sprawled before her stealing her breath. “Never did I think of the night as magical, but now, because of you, I shall think of it as no other.” Pride honed his face, his expression that of a man born to guide his people, of a laird who ruled his land. He belonged in this regal, rugged landscape, his presence as necessary as the next beat of her heart.
Aedan lowered his mouth a breath above hers. “As is your presence to me. Soon, I must seek shelter from the sun’s rays, but this moment is ours.”
His deep burr rumbled through her as his mouth settled with delicate intimacy upon hers, as soft as the brush of a fairy’s wings, as heated as the lick of flame. She melted, gave to him everything he asked for and more.
With infinite tenderness, he laid her upon a bed of grass, his body covering hers, his hands guiding her with each caress as he filled her.
“Aedan,” she whispered. He made love to her slowly, exquisitely, until her body trembled out of control. His eyes held hers as he increased the pace, the intensity moving her higher, higher, until on a shudder she fell over the edge. Explosions of color swirled around her with vibrant appeal, reds, yellows, and blues on a background of radiant white as Aedan found his own release. Then she was floating, her mind warm with satisfaction, her body sated.
He rolled to the side and drew her with him.
Lulled by the steady beat of his heart, the haze of warmth within her body, she laid her head against his muscled chest. She could lie here forever.
A playful smile touched his lips. “Methinks you have forgotten your naked state.”
Stunned, she lifted her head. “Yo—”
“Removed the cloak for your comfort.”
Several replies came to mind. She wanted to scold him for his arrogance, for teasing her, but his genuine caring for her stole the words. No matter how he frustrated her, she found herself charmed.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I knew you would be.”
“What?” she asked, refusing to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging that he was right.
“Charmed.”
She shot him a cool look. “Mayhap you misread my thoughts.”
Laughter flickered in his eyes. “Nay, I heard you.”
“A braggart you are.”
“And you, my precious Rowan, are not only my mate, but the woman I love.”
His simple words destroyed her, made her ache. All her life she’d been an outcast. Men’s only need for her was due to her expertise in healing, or to make a meal for children while a wife was ill. Now, Aedan wanted her for who she was.
Humbled, Rowan took in the man who moved her, touched her life like no other. Before, she’d feared becoming a vampire, but loving Aedan, carrying their child, she now embraced the change. Aedan was the man she loved, and she wanted to stay with him forever.
Forever.
Excitement built. A wish she could have. She opened her mouth, and Aedan pressed a finger against her lips.
“Enjoy this moment,” he said, his words solemn, “the laughter shared. For now, let it be enough.”
Unease filtered through her. “I would think my wanting to become a vam—”
“Rowan. There is much you do not know. Little either of us can change.”
Reality shattered the dreams of her mind. “Because you are their laird, and I am naught but a commoner.” Rowan sat up, stared out to where the sky to the east continued to brighten, announcing the birth of a new day.
“As I told you before, my people will accept you.”
With a frown she met his watchful gaze, far from convinced. “Then what troubles you?”
Aedan closed his eyes, but not before she caught the look of pain. “ ’Tis our child.”
Panic swept her. “There is something wrong with our child?”
“Nay.”
She fought for calm as she focused on a devastating thought. “Aedan, can a human give birth to a vampire child and live?”
His expression grew grim. On an exhale, he shook his head. “No one knows.”
Chapter Five
Aedan stared up at the sky where sunlight began to outline the clouds. He damned the question of whether Rowan could give birth to a vampire child and live, damned the knowledge that in his desire to have her, he’d not weighed the fact. But standing here pondering her fate changed nothing.
“ ’Tis time to sleep,” he said, guiding her toward an interior cave, a place that would offer them shelter in its blackness and would allow him a deep, rejuvenating sleep. He waved his hand at a smooth slab of granite.
With a soft rumble, a hidden door opened.
Rowan gasped.
A smile touched his face at her stunned expression. “Go inside.”
With hesitant steps, she entered. Eyes wide, Rowan spun to face him. “The rocks are glowing.”
“Small animals live within the stone. When they sense a person’s presence, they emit light.”
Concern edged her brow as she studied the intriguing phenomena. “Has our presence upset them?”
He chuckled. “Mayhap.” Aedan guided her through the tunnel deeper beneath the mountain, then into a large room supplied with garb made from linens, silks, and satins. He withdrew a dress. “Here.”
Rowan accepted the beautiful white silk gown with hints of gold embroidered along the bodice like stardust tossed. “ ’Tis beautiful.” Humbled by the finely crafted garb, she shook her head. “I cannot accept such a splendid gift. This must belong to someone of importance.”
“Indeed.” He nodded. “To you.”
Tears misted in her eyes. “Aedan.”
He crossed to her, lifted her chin, and stroked his thumb across her lower lip. “You are the woman for whom I am destined, a woman who fills me with happiness, but more, the woman whom I will love forever.”
She gave a shaky exhale. “How can you be so sure?”
Tender eyes studied her. “Are you not sure of what you feel for me?”
“I . . .”
“I can read your thoughts, Rowan.” He brushed his lips gently over hers. “For me, ’tis the same.”
“Aedan.” Her voice trembled. “Less than two days have passed since we met. How can our feelings for each other be so strong?”
“Do we question the magnificence of a rainbow, the beauty crafted by the clash of sun and rain?”
“Nay, we accept what is given,” she whispered as if tasting the words, savoring the possibility. “I wish to believe it, except . . .”
“Rowan, you are overwhelmed.” He gave her a gentle hug. “How can you not be so with everything that has happened in so few
hours? Men believing you are a witch, chasing you and wanting you dead, your meeting a vampire, one who is laird of his coven, becoming pregnant with his child, and falling in love.”
“Aye, so much has happened. So much—”
“Go and change. ’Tis time for sleep. Did you not say so yourself?”
“I did.” With a shy smile, she slipped inside the alcove.
Aedan rubbed the back of his neck. This night she could rest, but ’twould take many more to erase her doubts and allow him to overcome the challenges ahead. And there would be challenges, with his people, with the birth of their child, and with the fact that she held the blood of the fey, a fact he’d yet to explain to her. He dropped his hand.
Or should he?
Rowan still struggled with the terrors of the last two days. What good would come of adding more worries at this time? Her fey blood, her inherent strength, could indeed be her saving grace, could allow her to carry as well as bear his child. But, he wasn’t sure.
Though she’d asked him to change her into a vampire, her bearing his child was enough of a risk to her life. He dared not provoke the fairy queen by turning one of her own into a vampire. If he did, Ysenda would surely demand his death. Without his presence to protect Rowan and their child, they would face a cold world, one where neither would ever truly belong.
However much he wished to believe his people would accept Rowan, he could not be sure they would. Neither could he forget that someone had left him to die. A traitor he must find.
And kill.
Enough of the worries to come. They had this day together and part of the oncoming night. Then, he must return to his people beneath some guise, find whoever wished him dead.
Moments later, Rowan reentered clad in the white gown. Had he not known her a commoner, with her regal bearing and majestic presence, none could have convinced him she was not a queen.
A wave of tiredness brought by the arrival of the dawn settled upon him. “Come.” He took her hand, led her to the inner chamber where the scent of time and welcome sifted through the air.
Rowan’s hand tightened within his. “I cannot see.”
Of course, she lacked his sensitivities. Aedan lifted her in his arms, carried her into the next chamber deep within the earth, the power of the ancient lair warm upon his skin. With reverence, he laid with her upon a soft cushion of moss fragrant with herbs.
Born to Bite Bundle Page 95