“This isn’t Julia but her sister Arabel.” Finlay stroked the mark she’d given him on his neck.
“Oh, my apologies, Arabel.” Kirk glanced at her. “I wasn’t aware you and Julia were twins. She mentioned a sister, but not an identical twin.”
“’Tis quite all right. My clansmen mistake us from time to time, as I imagine your kin do with you and your brothers.”
“Constantly. It’s a never-ending issue.” He crossed to the corner padded chair, sat and eyed Finlay. “Last night and this morning I’ve sensed waves of both contentment and frustration emanating from you. What’s going on?”
“I’d like to know the same.” Iain walked in with Isla at his side and closed the door behind them. He trod to the desk, moved the quill and ink bottle and perched on the front edge. “It’s near impossible to focus with your constant mood changes, Finlay, and I need an answer.”
“Then to explain, allow me to introduce you all to my mate.” Finlay caught her hand. “Arabel is Julia’s sister and Nessa’s granddaughter. She also holds the fae skill of fire.”
“You’re a fire-wielder?” Isla’s clutched one hand to her mouth. “Fire truly comes forth from your fingertips?”
“Aye, it does.” She tugged free from Finlay and crossed to the open window overlooking the inner courtyard. The morning sun beamed through and played over the stack of wood set neatly to the side of the fireplace. She needed to expend this excess of heat roaring through her. She walked to the hearth and lowered to her haunches, her sapphire skirts settling about her. Swiftly, she brought her fire forth and it licked over the wood and chased up the flue.
“That’s incredible.” Awe crossed Iain’s face.
“Her fire is incredible, but it’s also very deadly.” Compassion filled Isla’s eyes as she looked at her. “There have only ever been seven fire-wielders born, and the rare and deadly skill is the only one to ever die out amongst the fae.”
“Only seven? Are you sure?” The news sent a shockwave spearing through Arabel, one she couldn’t halt. The sudden chill of it penetrated her from the inside out and her cold-fire roared to life.
“I’m certain, and any form of intimacy isn’t permitted for a fire-wielder.”
“No, that I won’t accept.” Finlay planted his hands on his hips. “There must be a way to get around her skill.”
“I agree.” Iain tapped the desk, his gaze narrowed. “The mated bond wouldn’t have formed between Finlay and Arabel otherwise. They are a match in every way even though it doesn’t appear it.”
“I feel cold, very cold.” Arabel shivered. Feeling cold was one of the worst signs for one with her skill. Excessive cold-fire, when it generated within a fire-wielder, could take over and kill them from within with its blaze of cold. She rubbed her arms, focused fully on her skill and drew her fire’s heat through her in an attempt to curb the cold-fire. ’Twas tricky to get the balance just right and not overexpose herself to her own heat. She must maintain what was required to keep her body and blood warm but not send her hot fire racing through her. Eyes squeezed shut, she attempted to gain back the control she’d lost by the rapid heaving of her emotions. A little hot fire at a time, enough to ground her as she permitted its internal release.
“What’s happening?” Finlay crouched in front of her.
“No! Leave her be.” Isla seized his arm and pulled him back to his feet. “Finlay, you can’t touch her right now. Her cold-fire roars and could take her life. See how she shivers as if with a chill. That is the sign a fire-wielder is consumed by their cold-fire. I’ve read about it in my clan’s history books.”
Another surge of cold-fire rose and iced Arabel’s fingers and toes. She shook, her lips pinched tight together as she stood once again and faced her mate. “It is as Isla says. When emotions of grief or loss flare too strongly within me then I’m susceptible to certain dangers. Only me. You need no’ fear for your own life or those around you when my cold-fire rears.” At least her cold-fire couldn’t seep from her as the blazing heat of her hot fire could.” She nodded at Isla. “Do you hold any information on the last fire-wielder?”
“It’s said she passed away during the battle at the village on June the eleventh.” Tears filled Isla’s eyes and she leaned against Iain’s side. “At least that piece of history we can change.”
“We’ll be changing a hell of a lot more than that.” Finlay let out a fierce growl and clenched his fists. His pain and desperation to change what he couldn’t tore at her heart. This destructive path he’d embarked on had to change, and she’d ensure it, whether he wished it or not.
“Isla.” She glanced at the woman. “As one of my fae kind, you must uphold the sacred laws of our people, and as such, there is something I must ask of you, that I require of your skill.”
“Anything.”
“I cannae see a resolution to our problem. Finlay and I might be mated, but ’tis a dangerous bond to allow to take. You must compel him to forget me, his brothers too since they appear to stand as one, and if you choose no’ to, then I willnae tend to this cold-fire which still consumes me. I certainly willnae be the one to kill my mate, which would happen in only a matter of time since he is so insistent on joining and completing the bond. Killing him isnae an option.” She’d been a fool to believe she could be different from the six fire-wielders before her, that it might be possible to have it all, or to at least try and see what would happen.
“Damn it, Arabel.” Thumping his chest, Finlay glared at her. He was close, too close, but at least he wasn’t touching her. “You are not dying on the eleventh during the battle, or here this very day. Nor are you having me compelled to forget you. You are my mate, and I’ll never let you go.”
“We’ll make sure you don’t lose her, Finlay.” Kirk grasped Finlay’s arm. “We’ll keep her safe, all of us, and you too.”
“Finlay.” She desperately wished to touch him, but since this might be her only chance to ensure his safety, she had to take it. “I cannae burn you, and I have come far too close to doing so already. History has decreed our future and ’tis unchangeable. You need to accept what will be and live as your destiny has proclaimed. You are here to save my fae people in the battle, not me, the last of the fire-wielders. You cannae allow your future shifter clan to fall into extinction. That is where there is hope, not here between us.”
“I have no intention of living without you.” A fierce rumble left his chest.
Isla sobbed and tears flowed down her cheeks. “Arabel, the last thing I want to do is to take Finlay’s chosen one from him. It goes against all that I believe in. The bond is so precious.”
“So is his life, which will be very short should he remain with me. Although I must apologize. I’ve asked you to do something which is unfair. I see that now. The choice to end what is between us will be mine, and mine alone.” She would gladly give up her life so he could have his.
Another wave of cold-fire swept through her. The searing cold iced her blood and numb, she shook and fell to her knees. Her heartbeat faltered, lost a beat and made her gasp for breath.
“Arabel, no!” Finlay dropped down beside her, a mere breath away, his anguish tearing through him and her in turn. “Look at me, my sweet. Don’t leave me,” he pleaded. “If you die, then I die.”
“Nessa cannae save the villagers on her own. She needs the ‘power of three.’” She lifted one trembling hand to cup his cheek and he jerked back, raw pain slicing across his face as he was forced to do so. “Mated ones dinnae kill each other. You cannae ask me to take your life, because that is surely what will happen.”
“You have to believe in us and hold the hope all will be well. There’s nothing we can’t do if we tackle our issues together.”
“You believe in the impossible.” And she couldn’t, not when his very life hung in the balance. Another wave of loss struck her and her cold-fire continued to consume her. She slumped onto the ground, her pulse so weak and her breathing so labored.
He ros
e to his feet and shot a look at Isla. “I can’t watch her die, and if she lives, at least I’ll still have some hope that an answer can be found. Compel us as she’s asked.”
“Are you sure?”
“There is no other choice. Just make sure my woman warms herself, and don’t let her out of your sight until she has. Keep her safe on the eleventh. No one harms her.”
“I’ll make sure of it.” Isla grasped his shoulder and glanced between the three men. “Are you all sure?”
“Aye,” Iain said as he moved to stand by Finlay’s side. “If Arabel believes that taking her own life is acceptable, then we’ll need more time to change her mind, which will be up to you since we’ll have no clue what’s going on. Compel us.”
Kirk too nodded and stepped in beside Finlay. “That goes for me as well. Do what you must, Isla. I trust you.”
“I’ll do all I can.” Her sweetly hypnotic voice rose and flowed through the room. “Finlay, Iain, and Kirk, remain perfectly still and listen to me well. Julia has a twin named Arabel. You’ll not recall you’ve met Arabel before this moment, although you will remain very aware of her deadly skill and the need to take care around her should you come into contact with her. You’ll not ponder or think about her overly much. She is no one to you, no more than another woman who resides here within this keep. She is no one of interest or importance. No one to draw too much of your curiosity. You will also not see or acknowledge the mated mark on Finlay’s neck. It will be as if gone. Do you hear and understand me?”
“Aye,” all three men said, their dazed gazes focused on her.
“Good.” She looked deep into Finlay’s eyes and murmured, “I’m sorry, Finlay, but no matter how many times you might meet Arabel while we’re here in this time, each instance will be as if the first and all other times shall be forgotten.” Isla knelt next to Arabel before the fire. “Is there anything more you need me to add which I might have forgotten?”
“Nay. You’ve covered it all, and I thank you for your aid.”
“Then correct your cold-fire, while I’m watching. I won’t release Finlay and his brothers from my command until you’re back under control.”
“Of course.” Eyes closed, she focused fully on herself and sent small tendrils of her fire’s heat back through her body. Her blood slowly warmed and her control returned, little by little. It took several minutes but once done, heat flushed her cheeks and warmed her fingertips. She lifted her lashes, rose from the ground and nodded at Isla. “’Tis done.”
“I wish I hadn’t had to do as you asked, but I’ll give you fair warning. You must hold the hope as Finlay has asked. Together, we’ll do all we can to search for a way for the two of you to be together.” Isla hugged her. “You are my sister and I will care for you, just as I care for my mate and his brothers.”
“Finlay lives and I live. That is all I can hope for right now, but I too will search for an answer, and if there is one I will grab ahold of it, but if not, then your compelling command on him remains. I willnae take his life.” Grief consumed her, beat at her. To keep her cold-fire from returning, she snuck her arms around Finlay’s waist where he stood so perfectly still. She nuzzled his neck right over the mark she’d given him, his heavenly scent wrapping around and comforting her. “I will miss you,” she murmured against his flesh. “You are my mate and always will be. I’m sorry I forced your hand just now, but there truly was no other choice. You must live and fulfill your destiny. That is all that is important, that the villagers live.”
A shuddering breath left his lips.
“You need to go, Arabel.” Isla squeezed her arm. “No one has ever broken my compelling command yet, but if anyone could, it would be a man who’d just had his chosen one taken from him.”
“Of course.” She stepped away and Finlay swayed toward her. Heart shattering, she turned and left.
Chapter 6
Matheson Castle, Scotland, current day.
Murdock Matheson gripped the stone windowsill of his solar on the second floor overlooking the inner courtyard, a fierce vision assailing him.
He couldn’t speak to his daughter, but as a seer he saw Isla all the same. She’d compelled Finlay and his brothers and separated the mated pair. His heart ached for Finlay and Arabel and the desperately difficult path they would now tread. Finlay would forever feel incomplete and Murdock knew the feeling well. He’d lost his wife from cancer only a week following Isla’s birth. His wife had discovered a lump in her breast during the early stages of her pregnancy and though the doctor had operated, his wife hadn’t allowed any further treatment than that, not while she was expecting. She’d given up her life so their daughter could have hers, and her fierce love and devotion for their child had humbled him. Ever since that day, he’d done his best to honor his wife’s request of him, to give Isla all the love that she would have given her. And if not for that promise he’d made, he would have gladly taken his own life in order to be with his chosen one. His life was a slow death without his mate, as Finlay’s would now be.
“Murdock?”
Nessa’s voice jerked his vision toward her. The wise seer of ancient times stood within the fae village along the loch, right near the center well draped in ivy. She wore an elegant olive gown with lacy white sleeves fluttering over her wrists, her red hair wisped with gray coiled high atop her head.
“I see you, Nessa.”
“Did you see as I saw? Isla has compelled Finlay and his brothers. I didnae know Finlay and Arabel were mated until this moment, although I have no’ seen my granddaughter’s death occur at the coming battle as Isla mentioned was recorded in history. Of course I dinnae always see all.”
“I never saw my wife’s passing either.” And for that he’d been most grateful. It would have been sheer hell to know the day and time he would have lost her. “We won’t let Arabel die. She’s the first with her skill to mate with a shifter and that gives me hope a resolution might be found.”
“Aye, and the mated bond wouldn’t have formed between Finlay and Arabel unless they were a match in every way. I agree. There is still hope.”
“Together, we’ll watch over them both.”
“We shall. I certainly willnae allow my granddaughter to lose her mated one.” A spark of determination flickered in her eyes. “Until the next time, my friend.”
“Aye, the next time.”
Nessa’s image fluttered away, lost to him through the ages, but not the knowledge Nessa would ensure all remained on the right path. She wouldn’t fail her people, just as he wouldn’t fail them either.
Breathing deep, he cast his gaze out the window. Beyond the breakers, a seagull screeched then circled the foaming waves and dived within. Moments later, it heaved itself out of the water, a flapping fish within its beak as it rejoiced in its victory. It soared along the loch toward the sacred site of the lost village of the fae.
So many lives had been so recklessly lost over eight-hundred years ago, the village leaders so certain they’d never come under attack, but the MacKenzie had wanted it all, and if he couldn’t take the House of Clan Matheson and the prized location Gilleoin held at the tip of Loch Alsh, then he’d slaughter them all. Their future had to change.
“Chief.” A knock sounded. “It’s Daniel.”
“Come in.” He shook his despondency off as Daniel, his right hand man, walked in and shut the door. “Take a seat.”
“Have you seen anything more?” In beige pants and a cream muscle t-shirt, Daniel perched on the forest-green couch underneath a wall-hanging of a stunning black and white drawing of Matheson Castle as it had stood in the twelfth century, an image he’d drawn himself from a vision years ago, from the time when he’d first spoken to Nessa through a joint vision.
“Finlay’s found his mate, but hit a snag. His chosen one is a woman by the name of Arabel, a woman who also holds the fae skill of fire.”
“Ah hell, please tell me you’re not serious.” Daniel clasped his hands, elbows pressed to his knees.
“Being bound to a fire-wielder is a death sentence, for both of them.”
“As Arabel is aware. She asked Isla to compel Finlay and his brothers, to ensure that from this moment forth it would be as if she and Finlay had never met. Arabel gave them all very little choice but to agree to her request. If they didn’t, she had no intention of tending to her cold-fire that had arisen. She is feisty and strong, and the bond between her and Finlay had clearly taken ahold for her to make such a demand. She desires his protection, even though that means their separation.”
“Then all is not lost if they both live.” Daniel nodded. “A bond also wouldn’t have formed between them unless it was meant to be.”
“I agree.”
Hope was all their kind needed to survive. Hope brought courage and desire to the forefront, and allowed their people to be all that they could be. Everything happened within its own time for a reason, and he too would hold hope for Finlay and Arabel. An answer had to be sought. There had to be a way for a fire-wielder to join with their one and only, and if anyone could find it, it would be the ‘power of three.’
Chapter 7
Three endlessly long days later, Arabel sat next to Julia at a table at the rear of the great hall to break her fast. She’d been late down to eat, wanting to miss the busy hour following dawn when Finlay and his brothers ate with the other men. Gilleoin, Nessa and Sorcha still remained at the village although Kenneth had returned to oversee the warriors and ensure the teams of men patrolling their borders and the ridge of coastline in and around the keep and the village, were at their most alert.
Julia squeezed her hand, her unwavering presence at her side resolute and unending. Her sister had cried with her when she’d told her of all that had unfolded between her and Finlay, and she’d listened as Julia had told her of her conversation with Nessa. Their grandmother had seen her flares and agreed the four elements had been upset by the arrival of those from the future. Usually realignment was needed, and that occurred when fire, water, air and earth once again joined together as one, something she’d said nature itself had to bring about.
Highlander's Passion (The Matheson Brothers Book 2) Page 6