by Victoria Zak
As of late, he’d grown unusually brutal, more times than he felt comfortable confessing. It was in his blood. He came from a strong and noble long line of Northmen. His ancestors sailed to Scotland, pillaging and defeating the Pictish king for their small piece of Caithness. And he’d lay cold in the grave before he allowed anyone to take his rightful home.
With long purposeful strides, Kerr strode back through the woods to where he’d left his horse. He mounted and rode toward the loch. He had to find his brother. Last time he saw him, his brother was deep in battle. Clan Gunn remained victorious, but the blood bath had cost both clans dearly.
Kerr stopped as he approached three horses near the loch’s edge. He didn’t recognize the steeds. He proceeded with caution and dismounted, hoping to discover the strangers who owned the horses. He spied three women standing among the dead. Why were they on the battlefield? Were they thieves? Stripping the bodies of valuables? He crouched behind a thick tree trunk, planning his next move. He peeked out from the side of the tree, looking at the women, deciding which one would be easiest to catch. They were spread out, making his attack difficult.
Silently, he moved closer to the blonde with her back turned to him. A stag and white roses were embroidered on her cloak. Clan Keith. She was sitting next to his brother. Shite!
Something made a noise behind him and he spun around, careful that the blonde wouldn’t see him. He prayed whatever had made the noise was either an animal or one of his men, for he didn’t have time to waste, his brother needed help. Drawing his sword, he waited until whoever it was came closer. Three men wearing his clan’s plaid crept out from the thick vegetation. Kerr signed in relief and sheathed his sword.
“Commander,” Liam whispered in surprise. “We thought we lost ye.”
“Nay, Liam, the devil is no’ ready for me.” Kerr smirked. “How many men do ye have?”
Liam cupped his hands to his mouth and cawed into the forest like a raven. Five men stood from their hiding places and made their way to their commander.
“Our laird is out there, injured,” Kerr informed.
Liam unsheathed his sword and began to charge the battlefield. Kerr grabbed his arm, holding him back. “There’s three women out there. One of them is with Bhaltair. I dinnae know who they are or why they are here. We must tread softly. If my gut is right, they could be spies from Clan Keith. We need all three captured. But above all else, we must get to my brother.”
“Aye.” Liam stood ready for command.
“Liam, take yer men and head toward the loch. Two of the women are there. The blonde is mine.”
Liam nodded, signaling the plan into action.
Kerr grabbed his dirk from his boot and crept toward the tree line. He hoped for Bhaltair sake he wasn’t too late.
When the time was right, Kerr snuck up behind the blonde and yanked her up by the hair. He pulled her against his body and pushed his blade into her neck. “Who are ye and what business do ye have here?”
“I’m no’ a threat.” The woman fought against his hold.
“No’ a threat? Ye wear the Clan Keith stag.”
“Let me go.” The wind was knocked out of him as the lass elbowed him in the stomach. His grip loosened and she escaped.
Gasping for air, he still fought to gain the upper hand and ran after her. The wench was fast. He chased her to the loch. Lucky for him, she tripped once she hit the sandy shore, giving Kerr the perfect opportunity to catch her again. They tumbled to the ground.
“Get off me!”
He grabbed her fists as she pounded them against his chest. “Feisty, aye?”
“That man will die if ye dinnae let me go.”
Kerr held her arms above her head. “What do ye mean he’ll die?”
“His been fatally wounded. He needs a healer.”
Suddenly, his attention was drawn to Liam and another warrior walking up from the loch with the other two women in their possession.
“Masie!” the raven-haired woman called out. “If ye hurt her, I will kill ye.”
“Watch yer tongue, wench.” Liam pushed her to the ground.
The lass ceased to fight. “Please, dinnae hurt my sisters. Let them go. Take me if ye must.”
Kerr looked down into her pleading blue eyes, catching him off-guard. He’d never seen such a deep, vibrant color. They shimmered like sapphires. Fixated, a warm sensation surged through his body. A voice told him to let her go. What was going on?
Kerr shook his head, breaking eye contact with the lass and shaking free from the fog. His brows creased together as he glared down at her, unsure what had happened. He yanked the blonde to her feet as one of his men threw him a rope, then tied her hands behind her back.
An agonizing moan came from the forest. Bhaltair!
“Please, I can help him,” the blonde beseeched.
“Why should I trust a Keith?” Kerr finished pulling the binds tight, then stepped back.
“Because he’ll die if ye dinnae trust me.”
Her gaze bore straight though him, causing his heart to skip a beat. For a brief moment, he wanted to believe her, but he never let his guard down, not even for a set of beautiful eyes.
“Liam, the dark-haired lass will ride with ye. Malcom, ye take the red-head. The blonde will ride with me,” Kerr ordered. “Ye two.” He pointed at two of his other men. “Make sure my bother makes it back home safely.”
Kerr, took his prisoner by the arm, dragging her to his mount.
“Let me go, ye brute! Ye have no’ right.” She struggled against the restraints.
Kerr pushed the woman in front of him and grabbed her arms. “My gut tells me ye’re a spy. And until I’m convinced otherwise, ye’re my prisoner.”
“Spy? I’m no’ spy.”
“We shall see, lassie.” Kerr tugged her forward. He wrapped his big hands around her waist and lifted her onto his horse, then mounted behind her.
“Ye’re making a big mistake.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Kerr bit back as he kicked his steed into a gallop.
With each bounce, he was quickly reminded that he was sitting too close to lass. It was bad enough her arse was pressed against his cock, but why had he gone and tied her hands behind her back? Kerr looked between his legs. She’d grabbed the waist of his plaid to help keep balance.
Kerr fought back the unwanted thoughts of her hands wrapped around his manhood. He swallowed, reminding himself she was the sworn enemy. He wouldn’t surrender to temptation or be bewitched by her beauty.
Chapter Three
Masie fought to keep her eyes open. They had traveled through the night, following the moonlit shoreline. The waves crashed onto the shore, distracting her from the horrid musings running through her mind about the barbarian sitting behind her. With her sisters captured as well, she refrained from doing anything to jeopardize their safety. The timing had to be right, then they would escape.
The sun will be out shortly. The morn was peeking over the horizon. She’d once before felt the sun’s blistering rays, something she’d never do again. Goddess, she prayed they’d arrive soon to wherever they were going.
They rode up a steep cliff. A wall of jagged rock lie on one side, the raging ocean on the other. The horse stumbled, and out of pure reflex, Masie grabbed the nearest thing to brace herself—her captor’s generous bollocks. Mortified at what she had done, she couldn’t move a muscle. She heard him suck in a deep breath and felt his body tense.
Slowly, she removed her hands. “Lass, ’tis best ye keep yer hands to yerself. One false move and we’re both over the cliff.”
Too embarrassed to talk, Masie kept silent. Aye, she had already thought about grabbing ahold of his ballocks and twisting hard to get away. But she had to be smart and patient, like when they had escaped the fae queen. Being immortal, time was on her side as long as she could outrun the sun.
Finally, they reached flat ground and rode through a small settlement. Thatch-roofed cottages dotted the ar
ea. Folks paused from their daily chores and bowed as the contingent passed. With the loyalty these people displayed, Masie changed her mind about the men. They weren’t a rouge band of brutes terrorizing young woman, but well-respected warriors.
“Welcome to Raven’s Landing.” His hot breath on the back of her neck sent chills racing down her spine.
They crossed a bridge to the gatehouse where they were greeted by the stablehand. Masie was lifted from the horse and placed on her feet. Her legs threatened to buckle, numb from the long journey. Adaira and Leana were pushed into her.
“Masie, are ye well?” Adaira whispered.
“Aye.” For the first time since she’d been captured, she’d felt a sense of relief. Together, she knew they would find a way out.
“Liam and Malcolm, take the prisoners to the north tower and wait for me.” The man she’d been riding with glared at her. “Stay on guard.”
“Aye.” Liam grabbed Masie’s binds and tugged her toward the tower, her sisters followed behind.
Masie stumbled up the winding stairs. Hunger had set in, which wasn’t good for these humans. With the scent of blood coming from her captor’s wound, her mouth watered and her fangs throbbed to sink into soft flesh.
Lust for blood was forgotten as the staircase opened into a spacious room. A hearth occupied one side of the wall, a table and chair positioned in front of it. Three doors were on the other wall.
“Red.” Liam untied her sister’s hands and then pushed her into one of the chambers and shut the door.
“Nay!” Masie cried out. “She’s no’ to be alone.”
“Hold yer tongue, Keith wench.” Liam backhanded her.
Masie staggered, nearly falling down.
“Masie!” Adaira screamed.
Masie watched her sister struggle against Liam’s grip as he freed her hands and pushed her into the next chamber. The door slammed shut causing Masie to shudder.
Liam now fixed his attention on Masie and licked his lips. She took a step back, shaking her head. “Please, dinnae touch me.”
Liam stalked up to her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. “I’ll do what I want wit’ ye.”
The ale on his breath turned her stomach. She glared into his eyes. “Do what ye will wit’ me. Make it fast, for the second ye’re no’ watching, I’ll kill ye.”
“Och, I’ll have my pleasure fucking the feisty right out of ye.” Liam untied his trews.
“Liam!” A strong voice commanded from the stairs, causing the guard to take pause. “I said to guard the prisoners, no’ fuck them. Please excuse his behavior. Enemy or no’, Clan Gunn does no’ abuse woman.”
Liam released her, cutting the ropes from her hands and then stalked away. Rubbing her wrists, Masie glowered at the man who had saved her. “Och, ’tis debatable.”
The grim expression on his face told her he wasn’t looking to argue.
“Ye said ye could help my brother. Are ye a healer?”
Masie didn’t know how to answer his question. Aye, she had a keen knowledge of herbs, but she was far from being a true healer. “Aye.”
“Come wit’ me.”
Masie pulled her arm from his grip. “Why should I? Ye tied me up as if I’m a criminal and now ye want my help? Besides, I dinnae know yer name.”
“I’m Kerr Gunn. Bhaltair is my brother and laird. Please, I can no’ lose him.” The sorrow showed through his rough exterior.
Masie hesitated. Her good sense told her to deny his request. Yet, she still couldn’t shake the feeling she had to help his brother. “I want something in return.”
“If ye ask me to let ye go, I can no’.”
“Then I ask ye to keep that bastard away from me and my sisters.” Masie folded her arms across her chest, still feeling violated from Liam’s attack.
“Aye. Ye have my word.”
“Then I shall see to yer brother.”
*
The bedchamber was dark, yet Masie had no problem seeing the bed draped in blue and green silks. A candle flickered on a table next to the bed. Masie approached the laird. He was wrapped in a fur and sweat glistened on his pale skin.
“I’m afraid he’s mortally wounded,” Kerr said from behind her.
Masie felt the love Kerr had for his brother and the sorrow. It ran deep. She could relate. The journey her sisters had endured with the queen was full of misery. Disobeying the queen came with grave consequences—ones that scarred her soul forever. The haunting sound of a whip cracking, the sting of a leather strap slicing through flesh, these things were meant to never heal.
Aye, she would save the laird, but with caution. “I will do whatever I can to help him but his injury is verra bad. I’ll need some items.”
“Anything.”
“I’ll need warm water, cloth, and wolfsbane for the pain.”
“Aye. Anything else?”
“It wouldn’t hurt to pray.”
As he left the chamber, Masie quickly pulled the furs back from the injured man. She didn’t need those supplies to heal him, what she did need was time alone with him. She couldn’t have the man drinking from her wrist in front of an audience.
She ripped the tunic from his body to examine the wound. It had started to heal from the blood she’d already given him. She felt his forehead, he was burning up with fever.
She extended her fangs and sliced her wrist, then held it to his lips. “Drink for me.”
Masie felt him suck harder and harder. She threaded her fingers through his dark head of curls, soothing him as he drank. Keeping her eye on the door, she knew Kerr would be back soon and she wouldn’t risk getting caught. She just hoped the wound wouldn’t heal by the time he returned, before she was be found out.
Masie pulled her wrist away and licked the cut. The gash sealed instantly. As the man fell back to unconsciousness, she removed the rest of his tunic. The door flew open and Kerr strode in holding a bowl of water and a handful of cloths.
“Just in time,” Masie said. “Lay them on the bed.”
With haste, she wetted a cloth and washed away the blood from the wound. Even with her blood, it was still very deep and painful. She carefully wrapped a bandage around his stomach, covering the wound.
She wet another cloth and placed it on his forehead.
“My angel of mercy,” Bhaltair murmured.
“Shh, rest.”
“Please, do no’ leave me. I can no’ die alone.”
His words went straight to Masie’s heart. “This day is no’ yer time. Yer brother is here.”
“Kerr.” He reached out and his brother caught his flailing hand.
“I’m here, Brother.”
“I dinnae want to fall asleep, for I fear I will no’ wake.” He swallowed shallowly. “Sing to me, tell a story, anything, but dinnae allow me to sleep.”
Masie glanced at Kerr. He nodded, motioning her to grant his brother’s request. Nervously, she thought of something to say. She couldn’t sing. Leana had that gift. She did remember a story her mother once told her about a Greek goddess.
Masie cleared her throat. “Are ye familiar wit’ the goddess, Aphrodite?”
“Nay,” he struggled to talk.
“Och. Aphrodite is the captivating Greek goddess of love, beauty, and marriage. They say she rose from the foam of the raging seas and her beauty was beyond compare. People from all over the world came to her shores to bathe. One day, she fell in love wit’ a mortal man, Adonis. He was strong, handsome, and liked to hunt. While out on a hunt, Adonis battled wit’ a wild boar. The beastie was too powerful. In one fatal thrust, the boar swung his head into Adonis, impaling his ballocks with his tusk.”
Masie glared at Kerr.
“Once word reached Aphrodite, she climbed into her swan-drawn chariot and rushed into the forest, searching for her beloved Adonis. Dread and despair ripped through her as she saw Adonis lying in a bloody heap on the ground. She picked him up, cradling him to her breasts. As she carried him back to her chari
ot, blood trailed behind him. Every spring, it is said mysterious red flowers bloom throughout the forest. People believe it’s Adonis coming back to life to reunite with Aphrodite.”
“That’s the daftest thing I’ve heard, lass,” Kerr said, as he looked at Masie as if she’d grown two heads.
“’Tis no.’” She stood with her hands on her hips.
“A chariot drawn by swans? A woman made from sea foam? She sounds more like a sea hag,” Kerr grumbled.
“Obviously, ye’re too blind to see the true meaning of the story,” Masie huffed.
“And what may that be? Never fall in love wit’ a bonny lass? I dinnae have that problem.”
“Nay, ’tis about life, death, and rebirth. And love, in which ye apparently know nothing about.”
Kerr stood and grabbed her arm, pulling her close. He towered over her. “I dinnae love. I fuck and slay. ’Tis what I do.”
Masie shuddered from the intensity pouring off him. She had no doubt he meant every word he said.
With her body so close to his, she could feel the lean muscles of his chest through his tunic. The hard lines under his eyes declared he’d hadn’t sleep in days. A thick vein ran down his neck and disappeared under his tunic. She swallowed back the temptation to extend her fangs and bite into his tender flesh. Indeed, biting him would quench her hunger. More than anything else, the urge to put him in his place weighed heavier. No one had ever provoked her like this, not even the fae queen. He ignited an anger inside her she hadn’t known existed.
“The lass is right, Kerr.” His brother chuckled. “Ye dinnae have a loving bone in yer body.”
Kerr snapped his attention to his brother.
“’Tis true,” Bhaltair said.
“Since when is my lack of affection the center of discussion?”
“All I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to show a wee bit of compassion.”
Masie snickered.
“Lass, yer job here is done.” He grabbed her arm and forced her through the bedchamber door.
All the way back to the tower, Masie had to run to keep up with Kerr. Apparently, his brother struck a nerve and he was taking it out on her. She prayed he would keep his word and not hurt her or her sisters.