by Donna Grant
Hayden cleared his throat and glanced around. He was a private man, so he didn’t want everyone to overhear what he was about to say.
“Hayden?” Isla asked.
He lifted her hand to lips and kissed her knuckles. “I doona deserve you, but I won’t let you go. I never thought I would find myself in this position, Isla, but I have a question for you.”
“What is it?”
“Will you marry me?”
She swallowed and blinked rapidly. “Aye, Hayden Campbell, I’d be most delighted to be your wife.”
There was a loud cheer in the great hall as Hayden pulled her into his arms. He should have known everyone could hear them, but he didn’t care.
The well wishes came, each Warrior stopping beside them. The MacLeods and their wives were last.
“You two are perfect for each other,” Marcail said after she gave Isla a hug.
Quinn laughed and clasped arms with Hayden. “Congratulations. I told you when you found the right woman your life would be complicated, but in a good way.”
Hayden smiled down at Isla. “A very good way.”
Cara reached for one of Isla’s hands. “Let’s rejoice. It’s not every day we get to have a wedding.”
“It sure seems that way,” Lucan said.
Larena shrugged and glanced at Fallon. “Maybe we should see if we can tempt a priest to come live here. After all, there might be more weddings.”
There was a loud snort from Duncan. “Doona be speaking for us, Larena MacLeod. I’m content just as I am.”
Hayden and Quinn shared a smile, for they knew better than the others what could come when a man least expected it.
* * *
Deirdre’s scream of rage filled the mountain and seeped through the cracks to fill the air. Animals scurried away in fear and dread, because the evil that grew in Cairn Toul just became stronger.
* * *
Somewhere not far away a Warrior lifted his head as he heard the scream. A slow smile spread over his face as he realized just where that scream had come from.
He changed his direction and headed back to Cairn Toul.
Read on for an excerpt from Donna Grant’s next book
SHADOW
HIGHLANDER
Available soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks!
Tomorrow Reaghan planned to leave the only home she had ever known.
The small village went about its daily life, unaware, and uncaring, of the turmoil that ripped through one of their own. Reaghan didn’t want to leave. She was a part of the land and the village.
Yet how could she ignore the insistence of her own feelings?
It was true the Druids who had left the village over the years were never seen from again, but there was an exciting world out there. At the same time she yearned to see the world for herself and to experience it—all of it, she also feared leaving.
She didn’t know what was out there. Though she knew who was out there—Dierdre.
Not to mention the only men left in their dwindling group tottered about, barely able to stand on their own. Neither of them would be fit choices for a husband. Besides, they were already married.
Reaghan wanted … more of a life, more in her life than what she had. It wasn’t that she was unhappy with the Druids. In fact, she was very content. But the part that wanted and needed more wouldn’t be denied.
The ache, the need to see and experience more had grown in the past six months to the point that she could no longer push it aside. It was as if her future was right in front of her and she had only to reach out and grab it.
Every time Reaghan had tried to talk to Mairi about it, the elder had been quick to point out why the village needed her.
Mairi and the other elders meant well, but Reaghan had to make this decision on her own. It would likely tear her in two, but she had to leave. There was something out there for her to do; she just didn’t know what it was yet.
Then there was the parchment Reaghan had come upon in Mairi’s chest by accident. It had been so old the edges had crumbled when her fingers touched them. The words, though faded, had been in Gaelic—a language Reaghan had never read before, but somehow she had recognized the words. Had understood them.
But that surprise had faded to nothing when she’d read her name and discovered she wasn’t from Loch Awe but instead came from a group of Druids on Foinaven Mountain.
There had been so many questions running through her mind. Her head had swum with suspicion and supposition. Mairi had been like a mother to her. She wanted to give the elder a chance to explain things.
As usual, Mairi had given evasive answers. And Reaghan couldn’t handle that. For some reason Mairi and the other elders thought they had to lie to her about her past. But why? What was so awful?
Regardless of what it was, Reaghan wanted the truth.
Reaghan had put the parchment with her own things and begun to plan to find the Druids and home, where she belonged. It was as good a place as any to begin, and maybe it would halt the persistent feeling inside her that there would be something for her to do.
On the morrow Reaghan would depart the safe haven she had known for ten years and strike out on her own in a world she didn’t know.
Tomorrow, everything would change. For better or worse. She was fearful, but eager. Nervous, but exhilarated. It was the start of a new life, one she intended to seize with both hands and make the most of. Whatever the outcome.
She had dreams she wanted to fulfill like anyone else. And she didn’t want much. She wanted to be happy, to find a man whom she could share her life with and start a family with. She wanted children to fill her days with laughter and memories.
The pounding began at the base of her neck and worked its way up to her temples, increasing with each beat of her heart. She didn’t know why her head had begun to ache the past month as it had, and she feared there was no cure for it.
She put a hand to her forehead, the coolness against her skin giving some relief, but not nearly enough. Reaghan tried to hide a grimace of pain as she turned away, but Mairi’s brown eyes were sharp, despite her age.
“You’re hurting again, child. You need to rest.”
The soft, comforting hands which had helped heal Reaghan from the fever so long ago took hold of her arms now and guided her to her cottage.
Not that the structure could be called a cottage. The Druids had moved around Loch Awe for years until the young ones began to go away, leaving only the older Druids and a few others who didn’t want to abandon the beauty and safety of the loch. That’s when the Druids had decided to make a permanent village, hundreds of years ago, hidden away from the world by magic, blending into the surroundings.
Reaghan leaned her hand against the trunk of the giant oak that stood in the middle of her home. All the Druids used what nature supplied them with to craft their homes. Many travelers had walked past their village and had never seen it. Partly because their homes blended with the forest, but also because of their magic—limited though it was.
“Sit,” Mairi ordered, her voice brooking no argument.
Reaghan allowed the old woman to push her down into a chair. The throbbing of her head always began slowly, building with intensity. And each day when it came, it grew worse, lasted longer. Reaghan would be weak for hours afterwards, her body not her own.
Something wasn’t right. Reaghan knew it in the marrow of her bones. But no matter who or what she asked, no one had any answers. Maybe the headaches were connected to the fever Mairi had saved her from, and no one wanted to tell her.
“I’ll be fine,” Reaghan said and took the cool, wet cloth Mairi handed her. She put it to her forehead and sighed. Just speaking made her head pound worse. The ache was so terrible she couldn’t clamp her teeth together.
Years could have passed as Reaghan endured the pain, concentrating on keeping her stomach from souring. Just as suddenly as the ache had come on, it disappeared. For long moments Reaghan didn’t move, afraid he
r head would begin to hammer again. Her body was weak, and all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
Finally, she dropped the cloth and raised her head. “It is gone.”
“For now,” Mairi murmured. Her eyes, filled with concern, dropped to the table as she tapped the wood with a fingernail. “How bad was this one?”
“I was able to handle the pain.”
Mairi smiled sadly and cupped Reaghan’s cheek. “My darling girl, that is not what I asked.”
“It was worse than the one from yesterday.”
Mairi lowered her hand and looked away, but not before Reaghan saw the resignation in her old brown eyes.
“You know what is happening to me, don’t you?” Reaghan asked.
Mairi released a long breath. “Reaghan, sometimes it is best if you don’t know the answers to all your questions.”
It was too much. Reaghan stood and moved around Mairi, needing to be alone. Her body was weak, but she couldn’t stay with the elder a moment longer. She needed some time alone. “I’m going to go for a walk.”
“You do understand we need you, don’t you, Reaghan? Our numbers decline more each year. I fear that one day I will be the only one left.”
Reaghan’s heart clenched in her chest as Mairi’s words made her pause near the door. She understood the panic which ran through the village as their numbers declined. “What will be, will be,” she said without turning around.
She didn’t slow once she left her cottage and walked out of what the remaining twenty-three Druids called a village. Reaghan didn’t stop, not even when the only child, Braden, called to her to pick berries with him.
Reaghan felt as if she were slowly going daft. There was much more going on than just the aches in her head. Her dreams had been filled with images she couldn’t explain but felt she had seen with her own eyes. People. Places. Events. All of which she knew she hadn’t experienced, yet she knew she had. Somehow.
It was illogical. She had never left Loch Awe, so how could she have seen the magnificent castle on the cliffs, or the mountain peak where, she somehow knew, evil was bred?
Reaghan paused beside a pine, her hand upon the rough bark, and took a deep breath. The sunlight filtered through the overhanging branches and leaves to make vivid, interesting designs on the ground she’d always found fascinating. But not today. The smell of pine, of decaying leaves, and a hint of some sweet flower did not calm her as it usually did.
The anxiety inside her only grew with each day, filling her so that she could barely close her eyes at night. There was a part of her which screamed to leave posthaste before … before what, she didn’t know, only that something was going to happen.
She knew she was safe with the Druids. They might not answer her questions, but they had shown her only love and friendship since she had awoken from the fever.
There was safety in the village. Reaghan knew of Deirdre, knew how the drough hunted other Druids. Yet Reaghan wanted to know where she had come from. There might be family still on Foinaven Mountain.
Reaghan shook her head and swallowed past the painful lump in her throat at the thought of leaving Loch Awe and the Druids.
Her thoughts ground to a halt when she heard the keening call of the falcon. It wasn’t so much the peregrine itself as the feeling that went with the bird of prey, as if it called to her, for her.
There was magic with the bird, of that Reaghan was sure. She didn’t know how or why, only that it was.
Reaghan watched the magnificent bird fly over the loch before swooping into the trees. Falcons were majestic birds, and the peregrine was the fastest of them all. It moved with artistry and grace, precision and deadly intent.
The bird landed on a thick branch high in a tree not far from Reaghan, folding its wings against its sleek body. She could have sworn the bird’s sharp eyes turned to her as its blackish colored head cocked to the side.
Reaghan was disappointed. She would have preferred to watch the bird fly. She could have pretended she was the falcon, and the vast expanse of sky her only prison.
With a sigh she lowered her gaze and stilled. Two men stood below her at the shore of the loch. Her fingers dug into the bark of the pine tree as her heart raced frantically and her stomach dropped to her feet like a stone.
Their gazes moved slowly, as if they searched for something—or someone. She stood inside the magical confines of the village. As long as she stayed within the border, the men would never see her. Why that filled her with regret, she wasn’t sure.
“We’ve been searching for four hours,” one mumbled.
The blond nodded. “I well know. I’m no’ about to give up, though.”
A glance at their different kilts told her they weren’t from the same clan. Travelers, maybe? What were such handsome men doing at Loch Awe, unless they were on their way to MacIntosh Castle? And what could they be looking for?
Many times she had watched such travelers and yearned to speak to them. What could it hurt? She was leaving on the morrow once she gathered the rest of her items. What better way to test what awaited her than by speaking to strangers near the safety of the village?
And if they are from Deirdre? She would step back into the magic barrier and watch as the men, confused, looked for her.
Her decision made, Reaghan took the step which put her outside the magic. The men, as one, turned their heads to her. They stared at her, silent and intent.
She didn’t worry about the men seeing the village. Yet. For the moment, they seemed satisfied to observe her. The men looked affable enough, but Reaghan knew better than to trust on appearances alone. Everyone hid something.
“Hello,” the one closest to her said.
His voice was rich and smooth, friendly. The sound of it made her blood quicken, making her want to hear more. He had thick, dark blond hair that was tied in a loose queue at the back of his neck.
Even from the twenty or so paces he stood apart from her, she could see the vibrant cobalt blue of his eyes. The way he watched her, studied her, made gooseflesh rise on her skin as awareness skidded around her, through her.
He stood with his arms to his side, seemingly at ease, belying the corded muscles she glimpsed in his arms and chest. There was a predatory elegance about him, a ravenous warrior that told Reaghan he could—and would—defend what was his. To the death.
Unable to help herself, Reaghan let her gaze run over his chiseled face. His forehead was high, his brows thin and golden. His cheeks were hollowed, his chin hard, and his jaw squared. That jaw was shadowed with a beard, making him appear more interesting, more dangerous.
More enticing.
Reaghan tried to swallow, tried to think of anything but the very male, very appealing stranger before her. She knew she was being rude in not answering him as she looked her fill, but how could she not? He was everything a Highland warrior should be.
His lips tilted ever so slightly in a smile, as if he knew what was going through her mind. Reaghan wanted to move closer to him, to touch his skin and run her hands through his hair.
She yearned to feel the strength of him, to have his muscles move beneath her hand. She longed to run her fingertip over his wide lips, to look deeper into his stunning blue eyes.
Her blood pounded in her ears like a drum in her chest the more she thought about touching him, of learning him.
It was as if for the first time in her life she was truly alive. Sounds she hadn’t paid attention to before filled her ears, scents she hadn’t noticed before swirled around her, and the colors of the forest and loch seemed more brilliant, more effervescent than usual.
All because of one man.
She inhaled a shaky breath and pulled her scattered longings back inside her. She would look at her reaction to the man later in the privacy of her own cottage when his cobalt gaze wasn’t on her, reading her every emotion.
“Hello,” she finally replied. She knew the elders wouldn’t approve, but it had been so long since she had seen anyone othe
r than those in her village, especially men of marriageable age.
“Do you live around here?” the other man asked.
Reaghan regretfully shifted her gaze from the first man to the second. His wavy brown hair hung freely about his shoulders. His smile was wider, more teasing, but she saw darkness lurked in his hazel eyes, a darkness he tried valiantly to hide. He was the same height as the first, with the same build, though he was leaner.
She licked her lips, wariness stealing over her for the first time, crushing her newfound excitement. She didn’t know these men, didn’t know where they had come from or what they wanted. Was this fear what she would experience once she left the village? “Many live on Loch Awe.”
“My name is Galen Shaw,” the first man said. His words were unhurried, casual. “My friend is Logan Hamilton.”
Just knowing his name eased some of Reaghan’s trepidation. She was just a step away from safety and Druids who would come running, their magic—inadequate though it was—at the ready. It gave her the courage to ask, “And what brings you to our loch, Galen Shaw?”
He grinned, sending ripples of perception through her as the corners of his eyes crinkled. “We’re looking for Druids.”
“Druids?” Reaghan’s heart fluttered like a butterfly caught in a net. So that’s what they’d meant when they said they’d been searching for hours.
Gazing at Galen’s handsome body made it difficult to breathe, to think, but the mention of Druids nearly choked her. No one spoke of Druids. “You realize there are no more Druids? Those who claimed the old ways were burned as pagans.”
Logan moved until he was even with Galen and gave her a teasing wink. “Aye, my lady, but we know the truth. Druids are most certainly around, and it’s verra important we speak to one.”
She wondered what they would do if she told them she was a Druid. It was the truth, though she held no magic of her own. Such was the way when Druid blood was diluted with those who had no magic. It was what was slowly becoming of her people, one reason they fought so brashly to keep her among them.
“I’m afraid you gentlemen are wrong. There haven’t been Druids around here in centuries.”