Highlander The Dark Dragon

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Highlander The Dark Dragon Page 22

by Donna Fletcher


  “Your death will be fast, though more painful than you ever imagined,” Rhys said.

  “You do not have the courage it would take to kill me.”

  Rhys took a step toward him. “I have something more powerful than courage—I have hate!”

  Haidar smiled. “That is what I am counting on.”

  He signaled his men and they soon were gone, leaving Rhys’ warriors to find him standing alone when they burst out of the cottage one after the other until several circled him. More of his warriors suddenly spilled out of the woods, forming another protective barrier around him.

  Rhys did not question how they got up through the trap door with the ladder gone. They had been trained to escape from various difficult places and situations. He was more concerned with his wife, having dropped her down the hole, the fall a far better fate than being taken by Haidar. And when his warriors had come across her, they would have seen that she remained there until he gave orders otherwise.

  He was however, eager to know that she had not been harmed in the fall. He turned to one of his warriors and asked, “Lady Heather waits unharmed beneath the cottage?”

  “Lady Heather was not there,” the warrior said.

  With a sharp order for his men to move, they parted quickly, clearing a path for him to hurry along and into the cottage. Rhys gave a quick look around and got no response when he called out her name. How could she have gotten up here if he had taken the ladder away? He shook his head. His wife was a resourceful woman, so if she did make it back to this room where would she be and why not answer him?

  He turned his head and looked at the partially open door. If she had been hiding behind it this whole time, then she had heard every word between him and Haidar. He stepped around the door and there in the shadows of the corner, crouched down, her arms hugging herself tightly, and her face paler than he had ever seen it...was his wife.

  Rhys bent over and scooped her up into his arms and before pressing her tightly against him, her arms eagerly went around his neck, then she buried her face against his chest as if she was attempting to hide away.

  One step out of the cottage and his men once again circled him, and it was not until they reached the keep’s stairs that his warriors dispersed, though they lingered close by.

  Pitt burst out of the keep as Rhys took the stairs up two at a time.

  “Seal that passageway so that it can never be entered at either end ever again,” Rhys ordered as Pitt yanked the door open for him. “Haidar made himself known. We will talk later.”

  “Anything you need?” Pitt asked as they walked through the Great Hall.

  “Time alone with my wife.”

  “I will see that you are not disturbed,” Pitt said and went to do the Dragon’s bidding.

  Once inside their bedchamber, Rhys sat on the bed, continuing to hold his wife. He said nothing; he simply held her. She had heard things she should have never heard and learned things about him she should have never learned. And the worse part was that she would never forget what she heard, it would forever haunt her.

  “I am so sorry, Quinn,” she whispered against his chest.

  He drew back, forcing her to raise her head and look at him. “What did you say?”

  “Quinn. I realized who you were a short time after arriving here,” she said. “The more I learn about your horrible ordeal, the more I realize why you have kept the truth from me. But it is not necessary any longer, I love you. I have always loved you and will always love you, no matter what.”

  He set her on her feet and walked away from her. “I am not Quinn.”

  “There is no reason to hide who you are from me.”

  He turned to her, anger and sorrow filling his eyes. “Quinn died, I buried him myself.”

  “No, you are my Quinn. It breaks my heart to know you were enslaved and suffered so horribly and I am so very grateful that you have returned to me.”

  “I am not Quinn. He tried to survive. His heart ached to see you again and his love for you never wavered. He was desperate to get back to you, but he was not strong enough. It was my word I gave him the night he lay dying that brought me here.”

  Heather shook her head. “No, you are my Quinn, I know you are.”

  “Quinn is dead. He is never coming back.”

  Tears ran down her cheeks as she rushed over to him and pounded his chest repeatedly with her small fists. “No! No! You are lying. You are Quinn! Quinn! Quinn! Please God—tell me you are Quinn!”

  Rhys let her pound at him and when she stopped, her sobs nearly robbing her of breath, he lifted her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her down and climbed in beside her, easing her on her side to rest back against him. He wrapped his arm around her and rested his leg over her two, keeping her as tightly pressed against him as he could, and then he listened to her cry herself to sleep.

  ~~~

  Heather woke with a wince and rolled off her sore shoulder. She jumped when a crack of thunder sounded. Rain tapped at the window and gray skies lingered. The dreary weather matched her thoughts and she pulled the blanket tighter around her.

  She was relieved to find herself alone. She was far too confused and upset to see or speak to anyone, especially her husband. She had been so sure that Rhys was Quinn. Had she been so upset about being wed to the Dark Dragon that she saw something that was never there? Had she wanted Quinn so badly to return to her that she imagined she saw him in Rhys? Or could she be right?

  I buried him myself.

  The words stung her heart. Could it be true? Was Quinn dead and buried in a foreign land? She fought back her tears.

  Shed your tears for the dead and be done with it. Life is for the living.

  An old woman at her mum’s burial had said that to her and she had done just that that day. But then she had had her two sisters and father to look after and a keep to run. There had been no time for tears. She had however shed tears for Quinn throughout the years, for she had not known if he was alive or dead.

  Was it time to be done with Quinn and get on living? She got out of bed, the wood planks cool against her bare feet and went and retrieved the ring she had hidden when she first arrived here. She cupped it in her hand and went to stoop down by the hearth’s flames to look at it. Quinn had made it for her and slipped it on her finger just before he left.

  This ring is a symbol of my love for you and a promise that I will return and make you my wife.

  He had said those words to her when he slipped the ring on her finger. She had worn the ring on her finger every day since then, until her betrothal to Rogan. She had removed it and strung it on the blue ribbon to wear around her neck.

  She stared at the plain metal band that had held such promise and meant so much to her through the years.

  The door opened and Rhys entered. Heather did not try to hide the ring from him as he walked over to her.

  His dark eyes went to her cupped hand and he crouched down beside her. He snatched the ring from her hand, stared at it for several moments, then tossed it in the flames.

  Heather went to grab for it, but his hand quickly closed around her wrist.

  “You need it no more,” he said and yanked her to her feet prepared to face her anger. He did not expect to be met with silence or the gentle look in her lovely green eyes. And the more she remained standing there silent, the more he ached to kiss her.

  As if she knew his need, she rose up on her toes and with a brush of her lips across his, whispered, “Make me yours?”

  “It is the Dragon you get and no other,” he warned, growing harder by the second.

  “It is the Dragon I want,” she said and stepped away from him to stripe off her garments.

  He watched her every move, his lips thirsting for her rosy nipples as her breasts fell free and as her garment slipped further down over her curved hips to reveal the triangle of blonde hair between her legs, he lost what little control he had.

  He tore off his garments, reached out, a
nd snagged her around the waist to lift her in his arms and carry her to the bed. He dropped her down on it and spread her legs, burying his face between them.

  Heather gasped when his tongue began to tease her senseless. Her passion soared with every lick and stroke of his tongue, and she grasped the bedding, squeezing it tight as she dropped her head back and moaned aloud. Her moan grew when his hand slipped along her stomach to her breast to play with her nipple, rolling it between his fingers and squeezing lightly before giving it a sharp pinch that set her whole body quivering.

  “Rhys!” she cried out.

  He rose up on his knees and slipped his arms under her legs and pulled her toward him, sliding into her easily. And as he plunged deeper inside her, he said, “You are mine, Heather. You will always be mine.”

  It did not take her long to scream as she climaxed hard and fast.

  “No!” she cried out, feeling on the verge of another climax as Rhys pulled out of her.

  She cried out again when he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her off the bed and sat on the edge, for her to straddle him. She gasped as he sheathed himself inside her and planted his hands on her backside.

  “Ride me,” he ordered as he squeezed her bottom and set her to riding him hard.

  Having been near to climaxing for a second time, it did not take long before she felt herself on the verge of doing so again. And just as it drew nearer and nearer, Rhys’ fingers moved between her legs and stroked in just the right spot. She burst so hard in climax that she thought for a moment she would faint. She dropped her brow to his, her breathing rapid as tingles of pleasures raced through her over and over and over while Rhys squeezed her bottom and continued slamming her against him again and again, making her climax last.

  She sighed and took his face in her hands and kissed him with what strength she had left. Then with her brow still resting against his said, “You have yet to come.”

  “One time will not be enough,” he said and nipped gently at her bottom lip.

  Her body shuddered. “I am yours Rhys, do as you wish.”

  “That is a dangerous thing to say to me, wife.”

  “Will you hurt me?”

  “Never,” he snapped.

  “Then I have nothing to fear, but much to enjoy.”

  With his hands firm on her backside, he stood and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him and her arms went around his back. He kept her tight against him and walked to brace her back against the wall. Then he drove into her hard and fast and after a few minutes he buried his face in her chest and groaned long and hard as he climaxed.

  Heather gripped the back of his neck with one hand, holding herself against him as his groan seemed to go on forever. His body finally stilled and his groan faded. She remained as she was, letting him linger in the pleasure of his climax and fearing if she moved he would know he had sparked her passion again.

  She wondered if she was wicked wanting him as much as she did or enjoying him as much as she did.

  He walked to the bed and to her regret pulled out of her before lowering her down and dropping down on his side next to her. His hand went to her breast to give it a gentle squeeze, then his finger began to slowly trace circles around her nipple.

  “Passion still sparks in you.”

  “Is that wrong?” she asked anxiously.

  He smiled. “No, wife, it is not wrong. It is a good thing.” His finger moved to trace her lips. “Never keep it from me. Never be afraid to let me know you want me.”

  She took hold of his finger. “You will do the same? You will let me know when you want me.”

  Laughter rumbled along with his words. “I want you all the time.”

  “I feel the same,” she said, releasing his finger, to trace her own over his chest. She stopped suddenly and stared questioningly at him.

  Rhys dropped on his back. “What does your curiosity want to know that you are not sure if you should ask?”

  Heather turned on her side to face him. “You are getting to know me well.”

  “Very well.” He smiled and poked her gently between her legs.

  “How many women have you been forced to be with?”

  “Too many. I knew none before I was enslaved. I was one of the stronger slaves so I was given a chance to become one of Haidar’s slave warriors, not that I had a choice. I learned that Haidar expected his warriors to be exceptional in all things. So he made certain we trained hours on end. Once my training was done and I was part of Haidar’s elite slave warriors, I thought the forced performances were all behind me. But they were just beginning.”

  “How did you finally win your freedom?”

  “There was only one way...complete the task Haidar set. It was an impossible one, since he had no intentions of freeing any of his slave warriors, especially those who served him well.”

  “And you served him well?”

  “Too well.”

  Heather heard the regret in his voice and she could not imagine the hell he must have suffered.

  “Haidar set the difficult task.” —he turned silent for a moment— “I accomplished it. He had no choice but to free me since he gave his word.”

  “What was the task?”

  Rhys turned on his side. “That my wife, I will never tell you. And with your curiosity settled we will never speak of these things again.”

  She poked him in the chest, smiling. “Remember what I told you about never.”

  “And remember I told you that my word is law.”

  She let her hand drift over his chest and down along his stomach as she spoke, “And I am to obey.”

  He laughed. “Something you have yet to succeed at.” His laugh faded when her hand slipped further down to take hold of him. He shut his eyes when she kissed his chest while her hand brought him to life.

  He loved the feel of her lips on him and the way she squeezed him tight and tugged on him, growing him ever harder. Her kisses turned to nips and fueled his need for her even more.

  It was when he watched her face dip between his legs that he reacted. He grabbed her and yanked her up against his chest. “You will not take me in your mouth.”

  “Why?”

  “I will not have you learning that skill...yet.”

  “Because of what Haidar said to you about teaching it to me?” She shook her head. “I will know the taste of you and you alone and I will not let that evil man stop me from loving my husband.” He looked ready to deny her and she quickly kissed him. “Please, Rhys, let me do this. Do not let him take this from us.”

  He kissed her gently and nodded, and she smiled. It was not long after that the Dragon let loose a tremendous roar.

  They spent the rest of the day in bed, had supper brought to their chamber and the Dragon fell asleep long before his wife. When she was sure he slept soundly, she eased herself out of bed.

  With light footfalls, she went to the fireplace, grabbed a slim piece of kindling from the basket and poked at the ashes with it. It took a few minutes to find what she searched for and she glanced now and then at the bed to make sure her husband slept.

  Finally, she found it and used the kindling stick to drag it out from the embers. She let the ring sit on the hearth stone to cool before picking it up and wiping it off. She knew it would not burn; it was not meant to.

  She looked over at her sleeping husband. He had not asked her about the ring when he saw it. Why? He had no way of knowing who had given her that ring. It could have belonged to her mother. He knew the ring when he saw it or else he would not have told her that she needed it no more.

  She slipped it back into its hiding spot and walked over to the bed and looked down at her husband sleeping soundly, and whispered, “Quinn.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Rhys sat by the hearth in the Great Hall alone. He had woken and not been able to return to sleep and so he had left his bed not wanting to disturb his wife. Sunrise was a couple of hours away so not a soul stirred in the keep, except for
those guards he had posted that no one could see.

  For the moment his wife was safe, but not for long. Haidar was bent on revenge, nothing would stop him. Rhys had known this time would come, though he had planned differently for it. Haidar would have been seen to before he wed Heather, so that Haidar could not use her against him, but her betrothal to Rogan MacClennan had forced him to change his plan. Her abduction had been necessary to prevent her from wedding MacClennan, and the unrest between the McLauds and Macinnes also altered his plans even more.

  The time would come that he would see Haidar dead. His concern was that the evil man would find a way to capture his wife and it might take Rhys time to reach her. Minutes mattered with Haidar, for Rhys knew far too well the hell the evil man could put someone through in a very short time. And he could not bear to think of what he would do to Heather.

  Rhys shook his head as a smile surfaced. Only Heather could break through his dark thoughts and make him smile, something he never thought he would do again. But the one thing she did that had truly surprised him was that she had awakened his heart. And damn if he was not feeling what it was like to love again.

  He leaned forward on the bench, bracing his elbows on the tops of his bent knees and locking his fingers to rest his chin on. Truths could be painful and he did not want to hurt her, but he could not let her continue to believe that Quinn was alive.

  It was in a dark, dank cell, the groans of dying men surrounding him and the stench so bad it made you want to die that Quinn took his last breath. He was gone; he would never return to Heather.

  It was the Dragon who would protect her, make love to her, give her many children...love her. She had penetrated his darkness and to his surprise had infused it with light and love, an impossible feat and yet she had managed to do it.

  The sound of footfalls entering the room broke through his thoughts and he waited as they approached him quietly. He listened to her every movement and when she was close enough, he turned, his arm stretching out to snag his wife around the waist and hoist her over the table and onto his lap.

  Heather laughed softly. “I thought for sure you had not heard me.”

 

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