“We can’t use any of this as proof,” Astrid said with a sigh. “We’ll just have to go directly to Lachina and pray she believes me.”
“No,” a cool voice behind them said, making the hair stand up on Astrid’s neck, “ye willnae be doing that.”
They whirled, and Astrid froze at the sight of Erskina behind them. She was leaning against the door, smiling at them pleasantly as if they’d just visited her to share a cup of ale.
Panic surged within Astrid. Where had she come from? How had she known they were there? Had she harmed Domhnall and Ruarc?
“I kent ye were from a time yet tae come even before ye told the coven,” Erskina said with that eerie smile. “I should have killed ye then. I figured ye were here tae stop me even if ye didnae ken it yet. But I wanted tae see what ye kent.”
“I didn’t know what you were. Not right away,” Astrid said, hoping that talking would buy her time as she frantically thought of spells she could use.
“Why, Erskina?” Fyfa breathed, both pain and fury lacing her tone. “Why are ye betraying yer people?”
“My people?” Erskina hissed, her sudden calm evaporating. “Let me tell ye what ‘my people’ did. My family were of Norse descent as well as Gael. They lived here in peace for generations until the Scots got greedy and took the land my kin had for generations. We had a fine home they burned tae the ground in the war. Because my family chose tae remain loyal tae the Norse, they lost everything—including their lives. I vowed I would get my revenge. I tried tae travel through time tae change the outcome of the war, but time wouldnae allow it. So I went tae the Norse and offered them my help. Nae only will we take back the lands taken from us, we will seize lands from the mainland as well.”
Erskina advanced, and Astrid shot out her hand, but before she could issue an Offensive spell, she was rendered still. She realized with horror that Erskina had hurled a Binding spell at both her and Fyfa.
“Ye’re tae late tae stop me, Astrid from a time yet tae come,” Erskina spat. “I’ll grant ye the mercy of death so ye willnae have tae see how ye’ve failed, and the death and destruction I will bring tae the isles.”
With a casual wave of her hand, Astrid’s throat began to close. She fought and gasped for breath, but it was as if an invisible hand had closed around her throat, cutting off all air.
The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was Erskina’s cold, dark smile.
Chapter 21
Astrid emerged from a hazy darkness to the feel of strong arms around her, carrying her from the cottage and out into the cool morning air. She opened her eyes as the arms set her down on the ground, meeting Domhnall’s panicked blue ones.
“Thank God,” he rasped, his eyes filling with emotion. “When I came in and saw ye lying there . . .”
Astrid coughed and reached up to touch her bruised throat where Erskina’s spell had taken hold. She surmised that she’d only survived because Erskina must have apparated from the cottage as soon as Astrid passed out, releasing her from the spell’s hold.
At the thought of Erskina, the memory of her threats hit Astrid with the force of a sledgehammer, and she sat up.
Behind her, she saw Ruarc helping a dazed-looking Fyfa out of the cottage. Relieved that Fyfa was well, she turned back to face Domhnall, gripping his hands with urgency.
“We need to gather the other witches and lairds to seal the Pact so the alliance can officially begin, and we need to put up every defense we can around the isles. Erskina is powerful, and the Norse have access to that power.”
It was nearing sunset as Astrid stood on the islet of Eilean Nan Draoidhean, flanked by Lachina and Fyfa, scanning the horizon for approaching boats.
After Astrid, Domhnall and the others had left Erskina’s cottage, they went directly to Lachina, telling her of Erskina’s true nature.
Astrid had braced herself for Lachina to not believe her, to hurl angry accusations at her, but Lachina had gone pale and silent before speaking.
“Ever since the war, there’s been something dark about Erskina. A simmering rage. She didnae like the outcome of the war; she still has kin who live on Norse lands. I feared the worst she would do would be tae leave our coven tae join her kin. I thought—hoped—time would heal her hatred. I should have sensed her darkness.”
Lachina had then sprung into action, calling a meeting with the local coven, dispatching several witches to inform the other coven leaders of what was happening so they could set up magical defenses around the isles, and to have them all come to the islet to seal the Pact by sunset. She’d also dispatched several stiuireadh to accompany Domhnall, Ruarc, and Neacal around the isles to gather the lairds they were allied with. Domhnall would inform their allies of the stiuireadh and the magical alliance they were willing to form, and to warn them of a dark witch working with the Norse.
Once Domhnall and the others had left, Lachina pulled Astrid aside.
“I ken I’ve been harsh toward ye,” she’d said, giving Astrid a look of apology. “Years ago, my sister was killed by an aingidh who wanted her power; I’ve hated all aingidh ever since. When I detected that yer parents were aingidh, I judged ye for it when I shouldnae have. What ye have warned of has come tae pass. All the while there was a true dark witch in my midst, someone I should have stopped.”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Astrid said, giving her a smile, though relief coursed through her; Lachina’s acceptance meant more to her than she’d realized. “All that matters now is sealing the Pact and stopping the Norse from using Erskina’s power to claim victory.”
Now, she kept her gaze trained on the waters that surrounded the islet, praying that Domhnall had convinced the lairds to ally with the stiuireadh.
Soon she saw boats on the horizon, and relief washed over her. She counted roughly seven approaching, each filled with several men. As they drew near, she spotted Domhnall on the first boat, along with Ruarc and Neacal. A rush of love coursed through her at the sight of him, and the tension ebbed from her body.
When the boats made it to shore and the men scrambled onto shore, Astrid counted twenty-one men, all lairds or nobles by their fine clothing.
Astrid approached Domhnall, who gave her a warm smile that made tingles dance along her skin.
“Was it difficult? Telling them about us and then getting them to agree?”
“Half had already heard of the stiuireadh, others had thought they were myth. When we told them of the Norse working with an aingidh, they were all in agreement about allying with yer kind. It wasnae as hard tae convince them as I’d feared. They all want the same thing—peace for the isles. So much so that they’re willing tae align themselves with magic tae achieve it.”
Moments later, the lairds and witches all gathered on the shore, the lairds standing opposite the witches in a semicircle. Both Domhnall and Lachina addressed all who were gathered, laying out the terms of the alliance, to which everyone nodded their agreement.
Lachina then turned to face Astrid, gesturing for her to come forward. Astrid hesitated, looking at her in surprise. Since Lachina was the coven leader and had acted as the liaison between the covens, she’d thought Lachina would seal the Pact. As if reading her mind, Lachina said, “As the stiuireadh who has come through time tae make this alliance happen, ye should be the one tae seal the Pact.”
Astrid expelled a sharp breath. It was surreal to take part in something she had heard of centuries in the future; it was like being present for the signing of the Declaration of Independence or the Magna Carta. Only this was akin to actually signing one of those vaulted historical documents herself.
This is what you came here for. You were meant to make certain the Pact came about.
She thought of how Fyfa, Siomha and even Domhnall’s ally Neacal had foreseen her coming to this time. She was always meant to come here—for this very purpose. It was why her magic wouldn’t allow her to turn her back on it, despite her parents’ evil.
Time had already written her
presence here in the strands of time.
Feeling a sudden sense of calm, Astrid stepped forward. She gestured for everyone to link hands, and once they did, she cited the words of the Pact, first in English, then in Gaelic. Lachina had reviewed the words of the Pact with her, but she also knew it well, having heard it cited in her own time.
“We, the lairds and chieftains of the isles, vow to forever assist the stiuireadh in their quest to protect the strands of time and humanity from those who seek destruction. And we, the stiuireadh of the isles, vow to forever assist the lairds and chieftain of the isles, to protect their lands and people from those who wish them harm.”
After both the lairds and the witches finished uttering the words of the Pact, Astrid murmured the words of a Sealing spell, one which would make the Pact into a magical vow, a vow the stiuireadh and lairds would have to heed.
When she finished uttering the spell, she felt cords of magic wind around her, and the others gathered, binding them in a solemn promise, a promise that would forever link the stiuireadh and the lairds of the isles.
A magical Pact that would echo for ages to come.
Chapter 22
After returning to Barra, Domhnall took a ride around the island, accompanied by Astrid, to confirm that his men stationed at various posts were prepared for an offense by sea.
They assured him that they were, the determination and bravery on their faces causing a surge of pride to course through Domhnall. The men of Barra were fierce warriors. They had fought valiantly during the previous war with the Norse. And though he wished it hadn’t come to this, he knew they would fight just as valiantly once more.
He and Astrid returned to the castle, where they would share a meal before he joined his men on the ramparts and Astrid joined Lachina and the other witches. They needed a brief reprieve after the tumultuous events of the day.
Astrid went to her chamber to wash and change, and when she returned, she looked lovely in the practical deep green riding gown she’d changed into, the color of the gown bringing out the beauty of her eyes. He drank her in, recalling how beautiful and powerful she’d looked as she’d sealed the Pact, fully in her element as her magic coursed through her. His bonnie sea witch, commanding time and magic to her will.
“We did it, Domhnall,” she said, beaming as they sat down to a meal of salted pork and honeyed vegetables, her eyes flushed with excitement. “I can’t believe that I was the one who sealed the Pact. It’s such an important moment in magical history—most witches in my time know of it. After I turned my back on magic . . . " She trailed off, raw emotion flaring in her eyes. “I never thought such a monumental magical task would fall to me. Now I just have to channel this newfound power into helping destroy Erskina.”
Fear swamped him at the thought of her facing off with Erskina again. The dark witch had almost killed Astrid.
“Donnae put yerself in danger,” he said. “Let the other witches help ye fight.”
“I will,” Astrid said, giving him a reassuring smile, “but . . . I feel there’s a reason my magic led me to her. I think I’m meant to defeat her.”
“Ye’re nae here tae cause yerself harm,” he growled, that sharp protectiveness seizing him once more.
“Domhnall—"
“I mean it, lass,” he said, reaching out to grip her hand. “I ken ye’re here tae help, but ye’ve already united the witches and the lairds. I willnae stop ye from fighting this aingidh, I ken ’tis useless tae do so, but I donnae want ye tae come tae harm, Astrid. I care for ye.”
I more than care for ye. As he gazed at her lovely features, the realization struck him hard.
He was in love with his beautiful sea witch.
He’d fantasized before about having her remain in this time. Now, he imagined her in this time not just as his lover, his mistress—but as his wife. His companion. His partner. The mother of his bairns. Lady of Farraige Castle.
He’d never before considered having any other lass permanently by his side. But he’d never teamed up with a lass before as his equal, someone with power of her own. As he took her in, he realized the depth of his love, love he had likely felt for her long before he realized it. He loved her for her compassion, her fierceness, her intelligence, for the power that she used only for good.
Yet she was no ordinary lass. She was a time-traveling witch whose time here was only temporary.
“I’ll be careful,” Astrid was saying, and unease flitted across her expression as she added, “You too, Domhnall. From what you’ve told me, I don’t believe your cousin will hesitate to kill you.”
“I ken,” Domhnall said, his gut clenching at the memory of Ulf’s ire. “But I’m chieftain and laird. I must protect my people.”
“And I’m a time-traveling stiuireadh, bound to use my magic to help your people,” Astrid stubbornly returned. “I suppose we’ll both have to be careful.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her determination. She began to eat, and as he watched her, the woman he loved, he recalled how she’d told him she’d wanted nothing of the past, of time travel, how she wanted to return to her own time, where she had a life. A life without him. There was only light in her eyes when she spoke of the future, this future in which things were better for her. His time didn’t hold all the wonders her time offered—only him. And he didn’t know if he’d be enough compared to the wonders the future held.
Pain clenched his heart, and he lowered his gaze, trying to focus on his food, which suddenly had no taste. She may not be his forever, but he could savor what little time they had together.
“Do you mind,” Astrid said suddenly, “if we talk about something other than the impending battle? I need a moment of respite.”
“Aye,” he said, realizing how much he needed one as well.
“My uncle would have loved this time,” Astrid said with a wistful smile. “He loved horseback riding and the countryside, preferring the quiet to bustling city life. He was the one who taught me to ride; he’d take me to a friend’s ranch during the summer.”
“I was still a lad when I learned tae ride,” he said, a lightness filling him as he recalled the memory: his father’s firm words as he guided him, his mother’s worried gaze. His parents could have easily had a servant teach him to ride, but they’d insist on doing it themselves.
It was times like these that he realized how much he missed them, and how he was ready to have a family of his own. Pushing away the tempting thought of Astrid as the one he’d start his family with, he listened as Astrid told him about the small town she’d grown up in, raised by her uncle, before moving to the larger city of Los Angeles.
“It’s a busy city, so I’d have to find pieces of nature—parks or hiking trails—to find some semblance of peace and quiet,” Astrid said, nibbling on a piece of bread.
Domhnall couldn’t imagine not being surrounded by nature; it was all he’d known having grown up on Barra.
He suddenly stood, holding out his hand. Astrid took it with a puzzled frown as he led her to the window.
“There is also a place I go tae, somewhere besides the shore outside the castle, when I need peace.” He pointed north, toward the distant shadows of bluffs that lined the northern part of the isle. Even though it was dark, he knew every nook and cranny of Barra.
“There’s a grove tae the base of that bluff. There’s a clearing there that smells of fresh earth, with a small stream that runs through it. Only Ruarc kens about it, and now ye.”
He wanted to add that he’d like to take her there, but when? The battle with the Norse and Erskina was looming. Once they hopefully defeated both, she would return to her own time. There would be nothing to keep her here.
“Barra is beautiful,” Astrid was saying, taking in the darkened landscape outside the castle. “I’m glad my magic led me here to help you protect it.”
“And I’m glad ye came here.”
Astrid looked up at him, and unable to stop himself, he leaned down to kiss her. This may b
e his last time to have her, and he fully intended to take advantage of it.
His love for her coursed through him as their lips melded together, and he lifted her up into his arms, continuing to kiss her as he sat her down on the window’s ledge.
“Domhnall,” she gasped in surprise, reaching out to steady herself.
“Trust me, lass,” he murmured, seizing her lips once more as he slid her gown up her lovely long legs, before kneeling down before her.
She moaned as his tongue dipped into her center, and he kept his eyes locked on her, not wanting to miss a moment of pleasure that danced across her bonnie features. She was sweeter than the most delicious wine, and he moaned against her center as she rubbed herself against him, crying out as her release claimed her. He didn’t remove his mouth from her until she stopped quaking.
Only then did he rise, lowering his breeches as he gazed into her green eyes, which were hazy with desire, and sank himself inside her. He would show her how much he needed her; how much he loved her.
“Astrid,” he gasped, burying his face in her neck as he thrust inside her, relishing in the feel of her glorious heat around him. Astrid wound her arms around his neck, holding him tight as he buried himself inside her, over and over until she reached another climax and his own release claimed him.
He remained inside her for a long moment, his face still buried in her neck. I love ye, Astrid. My sea witch.
He reluctantly stepped back, helping her down from the ledge; he noticed with a possessive ripple of pleasure that her knees slightly wobbled. Her face was still flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses. He took her in, sealing the way she looked now to memory.
She straightened out her gown as Domhnall pulled up his breeches. He studied her, wondering if he was being foolish by not telling her how he felt. What if he fell in battle? He needed her to know his feelings, the depth of his love for her, even though she would soon be gone from his life forever.
Domhnall's Honor: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Fate, Lairds of the Isles Book 3) Page 12