Beautiful Darkness: Masie (Daughters of Highland Darkness Book 1)

by Victoria Zak

  Since they didn’t have kitchen duty, she thought they might be in the great hall. Quickly, Masie went downstairs. Adaira sat in front of a loom weaving and Leana was next to her working on needlepoint.

  “Taking a liking to weaving?” Masie asked.

  “Aye, ’tis a good way to listen to gossip around the castle.” Adaira smiled. “See that man over there?” She gestured toward him.

  Masie looked over shoulder. “Aye.”

  “His been having an affair with one of the kitchen servants.”

  “How do ye know?”

  “Watch.”

  A lass walked over to the man. She leaned into him, her breasts exposed from the top of her dress as she poured him ale. The man winked and nodded toward the kitchen. The lass filled two more tankards, then sauntered away.

  Masie gave Adaira a sideways glare. “Adaira, that does no’ mean he’s having an affair. All he did was smile at the lass.”

  “Nay, keep watching.”

  Masie huffed and rolled her eyes, irritated at her sister’s behavior. She watched the man finish his ale, wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, and then nonchalantly follow the lass to the kitchen.

  “See, ’tis good to be aware of yer surroundings.” Adaira winked.

  Masie giggled. “Nay, ’tis gossip.”

  Even Leana laughed. Masie smiled at her. “It makes me happy to see ye smile again.”

  Leana turned her attention back to her needlepoint.

  “My shoulders are stiff, Masie. Would ye mind helping me weave?” Adaira asked.

  “Aye.” She took her sister’s seat as Adaira stood and stretched.

  “I think I might have found a way to escape,” Adaira said.

  Masie’s eyes grew wide and a lump formed in her chest with the thought of leaving. “How?”

  Adaira sat down next to Leana. “The other night I was sitting at the window in our bedchamber and I saw a ladder right outside the window leading to the battlements. I haven’t climbed out there, but it looks promising.”

  Masie weaved a strand of wool. “It sounds too dangerous.”

  “Aye,” Adaira agreed. “But with the castle heavily guarded, I dinnae see another option.”

  Her sister was right. Masie had tried an easier way and failed, or was she rationalizing with herself; searching for an excuse not to go?

  “Sister.” Adaira eyed Masie suspiciously. “Do ye fancy the laird?”

  “Nay.” Masie shook her head.

  “Ye can no’ lie to me. I can feel it.”

  “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell ye. And ’tis no’ the laird I fancy.”

  “His brother?”

  Masie kept silent, her beaming smile giving her away.

  “Ye be playing with fire. Mortals dinnae understand our kind.”

  “Dinnae ye think I know,” Masie bit back. “Besides, we’re the enemy.”

  “Guard yer heart, sweet lass,” Adaira said. “Heartache is far worse than any pain ye’ll ever endure.”

  Masie stopped working. There was something hidden behind her sister’s words. “Can I ask ye a question?”

  “Aye.”

  “Have ye ever been heartbroken?”

  Adaira looked away. She exhaled. “Aye, and I’ve been the one who broke a heart. I beg ye to think twice before giving yer heart away.”

  It was just like Adaira to protect her from danger. She was always the voice of reason and possessed an unwavering strength Masie admired.

  “I will.” Masie hugged her sister. “Besides, the three of us are stuck together. There’s no room for a fourth.”

  Adaira smiled at her.

  “Who’s that?” Adaira asked as she pointed behind her.

  Masie turned around. “Rabbie. Are ye looking for yer uncle?’

  “Nay.” The lad eyed the loom.

  “Do ye weave?”

  “Nay. Uncle Kerr says a lad should spend his time wielding a sword.”

  “Och, how do ye think the tales of battles and warriors live on?”

  The lad looked at her, his brows creased.

  “Rabbie, the tapestries hanging throughout the castle display stories of famous battles and the men who fought for what they believe in. Without it, how would their tales be known?”

  “Can ye teach me how to weave a story?”

  Masie didn’t know what to say. Children were as foreign to her as a man’s touch. “Aye.” Masie smiled.

  The lad’s face beamed with delight.

  “Here.” Masie scooted over. “Come sit and I’ll show ye.”

  *

  Kerr entered the great hall after a full day of hunting deer. Successful, he’d downed two bucks and a boar. Though he tried to forget the way Masie made him feel, it was impossible to keep fighting against it. Over the last two days, she’d consumed him. She had him by the ballocks, thinking about a future. A wife—children. God’s bones, the lass twisted his thoughts. He was a warrior. The call of battle forever in his blood. No woman was going to change his heart.

  Exhausted and hungry, Kerr set off to the kitchen, pushing Masie far away from his thoughts.

  “Kerr!” A lass strode across the hall.

  His patience had already been tested. He was in no mood to hear Ina’s problems or to ward off her bold advances. The woman was trouble. He proceeded to seek out ale. Thankful he didn’t have to go far, a lass poured him a tankard. He didn’t quite make it across the room before Ina cornered him.

  “May I have a word with ye?” she asked.

  “Nay,” Kerr said dryly. “I’m tired and need sleep.” He stepped aside, but Ina blocked him.

  “’Tis about the Keith girls. The blonde one.”

  Kerr took a long pull of ale. He slammed the empty tankard on the table, then crossed his arms across his chest. God’s bones, he couldn’t escape Masie.

  Ina smiled in victory. “’Tis no’ safe to allow her to walk freely among the clan.”

  “And why is that?”

  “She’s no’ like us, Kerr. I can no’ put my finger on it, but there’s something different about her.”

  “Ina, I think ye daft.”

  “Ye’re defending a Keith. The enemy.”

  Before he said something he’d regret later, he clenched his jaw tight.

  Ina placed her hands on her hips. “Och, while ye were out hunting, Rabbie spent the day with the wench.”

  “Rabbie?”

  “Aye. And I’m sure she’s cast her wickedness on him. Yer sister would no’ approve of such behavior.”

  Kerr grabbed Ina’s arms and pinned her with a glare. “Ye will no’ speak of Glenna in that tone. And Rabbie is no concern of yers.”

  Ina held his gaze. “Then ye better do right by Rabbie, for that matter, the clan. Be rid of the Keith wenches or I’ll get rid of them meself.”

  Kerr reeled in his anger and released Ina. “Are ye questioning my ability to care for my nephew?”

  “Nay, I—”

  “Trust me, Ina, if ye cause any trouble with the Keith girls, I will personally see ye hung for treason.”

  “Treason?”

  “Aye, they are the laird’s guests. No harm will be brought upon them.” Kerr leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “If ye want to keep yer pretty head, I warn ye to keep to yer own affairs.” Kerr pushed past her and made his way through the great hall.

  He took in a deep breath, calming himself. He needed to find Rabbie and see he was well. He didn’t search for long. In a corner of the hall his nephew was sitting with Masie…weaving?

  Kerr approached the two. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Uncle!” Rabbie jumped from his seat and hugged him. “Miss Masie and I have been weaving all day.”

  Masie stood and smiled. “He’s a verra smart lad. A quick learner.”

  Kerr looked down at Rabbie. “And do ye feel this was time well spent, sewing all day?”

  The lad adverted his gaze. “Nay.”

  “A lad should be practici
ng with a sword, no’ playing with string.”

  “Kerr,” Masie interrupted. “’Tis my fault. I lost track of the day. Dinnae blame Rabbie.”

  He pinned Masie with a hard glare. “Rabbie, go to bed. I’ll be up to tuck ye in.”

  “Aye, Uncle.” He turned to Masie. “Thank ye.”

  Masie nodded. After the child was gone, she made her way to the stairs. “Kerr Gunn, ye are something else.”

  Kerr followed right behind her. He was something else? Nay. She had no right to scold him. Aye, he was harsh on the lad, but he’d never seen Rabbie take to a lass besides his sister. It had shaken him to see Masie in that role.

  “I’m no’ a fool. I can see what ye’re doing.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “I saw ye kissing Bhaltair.”

  Masie shook her head and continued up the stairs.

  They reached the landing. “Dinnae walk away from me. I want to know the truth. I’m tired of ye playing wit’ my mind,” Kerr said.

  Masie whipped around. “Just what are ye saying?”

  “Dinna play sweet and innocent wit’ me. Ye pretended to be the lass in distress yesterday so ye could play on my emotions. I saw ye kissing Bhaltair. Ye want something lass and I will no’ be the fool to fall for yer games.”

  “Och, I understand. This is about yer crushed ego.” Masie jabbed a finger at his chest. “First, Bhaltair kissed me. Secondly, I have had enough of yer suspicions. For the last time, I’m no’ a spy. I obey yer rules, I’ve saved yer brother from sure death, and have only showed kindness to yer people. What is it about me that repulses ye so?” Her blue eyes bore straight through him.

  He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him, his body blazing as her breasts pressed against his chest. Glaring into her eyes, an animalistic urge surfaced, driving him to claim her right there. “Every time ye touch or look at Bhaltair, I’m blinded by rage. I want ye hands on me, Masie, and only me.”

  He snaked his hand behind her neck, pulling her closer. Inside, reasoning battled with his urge to surrender to the power she held over him. He belonged on the battlefield not in a lass’s arms. “Lass, ye dinnae repulse me. Ye have bewitched me.” He claimed her lips, kissing her deeply.

  He expected a smack but didn’t get one. She parted her lips and allowed him a taste. A sweetness washed over his tongue like warm honey. Her body was soft and fit against him perfectly. He knew one taste would be his undoing.

  “Masie,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers. “I’m an arse. Please, forgive me.”

  “Aye, ye are an arse.” She grinned up at him. “’Tis no’ yer brother that makes my heart skip beats. ’Tis ye.” She stepped out from his embrace and continued down the corridor.

  Damn the devil! How could she say such things and walk away? He watched her until she disappeared around the corner. The desire to run after the lass consumed him, yet he couldn’t do it. He thought about throwing her over his shoulder and taking her to his bedchamber, making love to her until the morn. But he needed to make things right with Rabbie first, then he’d find his blue-eyed lass.

  Chapter Ten

  Masie touched her kiss-swollen lips and grinned. Kerr Gunn desired her. Her heart still fluttered and her knees threatened to buckle. No man had never made her feel like this. He was pure raw male, mysterious and dominant, but most of all he took her breath away. He’d captured her heart.

  She’d been deep into her musings and hadn’t realized she’d passed her bedchamber. She thought to turn around and make her way back, but a nearby door that stood ajar caught her attention. She opened it all the way. “Hello?”

  No one replied, so she walked in.

  A desk and chair sat in front of the hearth. A map of Caithness was laid out. “Och.” Just what she needed.

  Masie studied the area on the map just north of the village of Wickshire, where a small drawing of a castle marked the page. Coastline dominated the east side of Wick. The castle was flanked by cliffs. The only way out was south, which wasn’t an option. Dornoch occupied the south. “’Tis a challenge, indeed,” she huffed. There had to be a different way out.

  Looking up from the map, Masie spied a tapestry hanging next to a book shelf. She walked over to it, taking in the scene. She traced the black raven crest on the Highlander’s armor. He was fighting his way through a throng of Keith men. As Masie took in more, she saw who the man was fighting for—a beautiful woman with flowing red hair. She was with a man from Clan Keith on horseback, crying and reaching for the warrior from Clan Gunn.

  Along the border of the tapestry, ravens circled a herd of fleeing stags. “Clan Gunn and Clan Keith,” Masie said, astounded by the detailed embroidery.

  “That’s my father. The honorable Alex Gunn, Laird of Caithness, Earl of Wickshire.”

  Masie whipped around to find Kerr standing in the doorway. “’Tis a stunning piece,” she said.

  “Aye.” Kerr walked into the solar, the grim lines on his face noticeable.

  “Who is the woman? Is she yer mum?”

  “Nay.” Kerr poured two drams of whiskey and handed one to Masie. He stood next to her, looking at the tapestry. “I dinnae know her, yet I’ve lived with her ghost all of my life.”

  Masie wanted to know more, but she didn’t want to meddle in his affairs. “She’s verra beautiful.”

  “The story my father told me growing up was the woman in the tapestry was taken from him on their wedding day by a Clan Keith warrior. He fought for years to get her back, but Laird Doughall hid her away. Finally, Father gave up. He loved her until his last breath.”

  “What about yer mum?”

  “Och, she never had a chance against the woman’s ghost. My father married her out of duty not love.”

  Moments passed in silence as they looked at the tapestry together. Masie took his hand in hers. “I’m terribly sorry for yer loss.”

  “Och.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Helen’s ghost died with him.”

  Masie’s heart dove straight into her stomach. Her mother’s name was Helen. She looked closer at the red-headed figure. Mum?

  “Come sit wit’ me.” Kerr brought her over to a bench and they sat down. “All my life I’ve fought for my clan, fought for justice. I dinnae have room in my heart for anything else.”

  Masie stared at a cracked stone on the wall, trying not to cry. ’Tis for the best.

  “Yet, somehow, ye’ve breached the walls. ’Tis no’ like me to fall for a lass as easily as I’ve fallen for ye.”

  Masie’s palms were sweaty and her heart raced again.

  “I need the truth, lass. Who ye are and why were ye on the battlefield.”

  His smoldering eyes were full of passion. She was stuck between two unhappy choices. There was nothing more she wanted than to be honest with him, yet she couldn’t open her heart.

  “Kerr, I’m no’ like other lasses.”

  “Dinnae ye think I know that? The moment I laid eyes on ye I knew it.”

  “Nay, ye took me prisoner,” she teased.

  “Because I couldn’t let ye go.” Kerr placed his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her close until their foreheads touched. “Masie,” he whispered against her lips before he kissed her.

  His kiss seared her cold flesh and she wanted more. She opened her mouth, breathing him in. As he slowly slid his tongue between her lips, a shockwave rippled to her core. The taste of whiskey played on her tongue and made her stomach flutter. She threaded her fingers through his hair, drawing him in deeper.

  Kerr broke the kiss, then cupped her face. She didn’t want the kiss to end. “I need to know.”

  Masie looked up into his eyes. “I can’t. If ye know what’s best, ye’ll let me go and never look back.”

  Kerr’s hands slipped from her face. The sorrow she saw in his eyes shook her soul.

  “I can no’ permit it,” he said.

  “Please, forgive me, Kerr. I wish my life wasn’t so complicated.” She forced her
self to her feet, for if she stayed any longer, she’d give in, telling him everything. That’s what her heart wanted, but her voice of reason told her differently. Without looking back at him, she left the solar, tears burning her eyes.

  Chapter Eleven

  Masie raced to her sisters’ bedchamber, crying. She couldn’t breathe, her chest ached. What was it about him that captivated her? Why Kerr? Why a mortal? Masie swiped at a tear trickling down her cheek. She wished they never stopped to feed on the battlefield. She wished her fate hadn’t been changed.

  Not watching where she was going, Masie rounded the corner and slammed into a woman. Her blood boiled when she realized who it was. The brunette from the great hall.

  “Witch,” the woman spat, hate burning in her eyes.

  Masie unleashed her fury, pushing her against the wall. She grabbed a fistful of the woman’s dress and hissed through fanged teeth.

  Terror-stricken, the woman gasped. “I knew it! Ye’re a monster.”

  A monster? Aye. The demon inside released, her vision burned red, and normal movements raced by her with super speed. An image flashed in her mind, she was ripping the wench’s throat out, making her feel every last drop of pain while she fed from her.

  “And I haven’t eaten in days,” Masie growled.

  The woman grabbed her neck, hiding it from Masie.

  “Masie!”

  Slowly, she turned her head, vaguely recognizing the voice.

  “Walk away.” Adaira approached cautiously. “Ye dinnae want to do something daft.”

  Masie let go and took a step back as the woman ran for her life down the corridor.

  “Masie, have ye gone mad?”

  “I-I”

  “Ye weren’t thinking. Ye need to control yer temper.”

  “Aye.” Once Masie fully understood the ramifications of her actions, she looked at her sister, shocked at what she’d just done. “I’m so sorry. I dinnae know what came over me.”

  Adaira wrapped her arm around Masie’s shoulders as they walked back to their bedchamber. By the morn, the witch hunters would be kicking down her door. They had to leave tonight.

  Masie stopped. “We must go.”