A Scot's Resolve (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era, #3)
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Story Overview
Plagued by dreams of an ancient Irish Stonehenge, Madison not only ends up with a mystical Claddagh ring but finds herself connected to a Highland scoundrel from another century. One she refuses to be destined for. He might set her heart afire, but he also makes her blood boil.
Eager to confront the meddlesome lass haunting his thoughts, Cray MacLeod travels to the twenty-first century only to discover his cousin, Ethyn already there pursuing Madison. He won't be the only one, though. The moment Cray lays eyes on her, he wants her too. She may not be his destined Broun, but he'll make her his regardless.
Once again, Cray finds himself competing with kin for the lass he desires. At least until a mysterious Stonehenge dredges up his painful past, and only Madison can help him face things he would rather forget. Things that draw them closer to daunting secrets they never saw coming.
Will Madison and Cray be driven apart by what they discover? Or will the heartbreak of their pasts be the key to their future? Find out as the quest to keep Scotland's King David II safe from Edward Balliol and his 'disinherited' nobles continues in A Scot's Resolve.
A Scot’s Resolve
The MacLomain Series: End of an Era
Book Three
Sky Purington
COPYRIGHT © 2020
A Scot’s Resolve
Sky Purington
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Edited by Cathy McElhaney
Cover Art by Tara West
Published in the United States of America
Contents
Story Overview
Series Overview
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Coming Soon
Just Curious?
Exclusive Invitation
Stonehenges, Stone of Destiny, Bull Rock
Previous Releases-Best Reading Order
Family Trees
About the Author
Series Overview
‘End of an Era’ can mean many things, but for the MacLomain Clan, it marked the beginning of the end of their way of life. Only four short years after King Robert the Bruce led Scotland to freedom in the First War of Scottish Independence, the Second War of Scottish Independence began between the Kingdom of Scotland and the Kingdom of England. Though Robert’s wee son, David II, was made king, Edward Balliol, with the discreet backing of Edward III of England, challenged him for the throne.
Sworn to protect the rightful king, five Scot’s and their lasses go to David’s aid defending him against Balliol, and his band of disenfranchised nobles called the ‘disinherited.’ Though the nobles are mere mortals, the secret brotherhood who control them, are anything but. Worse yet, fighting them will come at a cost to each noble Scot. One destined to change life as they know it.
Introduction
So far, two couples have ignited the power of the Claddagh ring, sealing off two Scottish Stonehenges in an ongoing battle against evil. As each tale unravels, the MacLomains and their kin learn more about why they were targeted and what it will take to stop the enemy. Now, however rocky the road, Cray and Madison have been thrust together to keep wee King David safe and make sure history stays on track. And so the story goes...
Chapter One
North Salem, New Hampshire
Present Day
“FIVE, FOUR, THREE, two, one.” She turned around and around, looking from one fog-steeped standing stone to the next. “Never six.”
“Och, at least one would be a good start,” Cray muttered into her mind, on his own page as usual. Which had nothing to do with the number of stones.
She frowned, vaguely wondering if he’d said that aloud or in her mind. Because in this place made of darkness, fog, and mystery, he always sounded much closer.
Either way, he was an unwelcome voice that had suddenly popped into her mind a few days ago and wouldn’t go away. Under any other circumstance, she would have checked herself into the nearest psych unit, but since putting on her irremovable Claddagh ring, all the craziness seemed tolerable. Bizarrely normal. Unsettling but manageable.
Which made no sense.
Yet the ring was at the heart of it. She knew it like she knew one plus one equaled two.
Between Julie and Chloe disappearing after Scotsmen showed up out of nowhere and the moody Scottish brogue pestering her thoughts, she should be terrified. But no. Rather she felt troubled. Off-balance. As though she needed to remember or understand something important for reality to straighten out and make sense again.
Whatever it was, she was almost positive her answers lay right here.
Wherever here was.
She had dreamt of this Stonehenge several times now. Some might say it was odd she knew she was dreaming, but the more the dreams occurred, the more aware she became. Not just that, but her concern about the number of stones grew. Or should she say lack of one stone? Because there should be six, yet there were only ever five. Something the brute in her head couldn’t care less about. No, the ill-tempered Scotsman only ever focused on one thing.
Women.
More specifically—and solely because of her, he claimed—his lack of women.
Though tempted to ignore him, she just couldn’t help herself. After all, he wasn’t talking about standing stones at the moment but his inability to get laid.
“It’s not my fault you can’t,” Screw? Fuck? Dear Lord, no, she’d been raised by God-fearing parents, “indulge.”
By no means a prude, she’d had boyfriends—a boyfriend—and sex before marriage, but she tried not to swear.
“Indulge?” His inner tone was dry. Incredulous. Mocking. Not to mention, as only he was capable, suspiciously curious while simultaneously rude. “Is that what you do when laying with a man? Indulge?” She could almost hear his prepare-to-be-shocked-by-his-next-statement mental wheels spinning. “What part do you indulge in most, lass? Because I have something you can—”
“You have nothing I’m interested in,” she shot back, never more certain. “As to your intimacy issues with the opposite sex, I’d rather you not share.”
“Rather I not share,” he balked. His brogue deepened with his angst, reminding her—just the icing on top of all this—that she chatted with a medieval Scotsman. One who went from rude to mo
rtifying in one fell swoop. “If ye hadnae barged into my mind with yer mutterings in the first place, my seed wouldnae be drying up in my cock right now!”
He really just said that, didn’t he? Of course, he did. Truly, though, she counted her blessings because, as a whole, it was one of his milder, less-offensive declarations.
As always, when it came to him, she spoke without thinking first.
“I can’t say much about your,” don’t say it, don’t even think it, and God knows don’t envision it, “cock.” Hell, way to feed the fire. ‘Junk’ would have been better than that. “What I can say is you’ve got some serious issues when it comes to women.”
Did he ever. She felt bad for every woman he’d ever come in contact with. Unfortunately, if his boasting was correct, that was an uncomfortably large number. Which, quite frankly, she couldn’t imagine given his sour disposition. He must be some sort of god in bed. She flinched at that, not wanting her mind anywhere near his unsavory lifestyle.
“Issues ye created with yer unwanted, unneeded, meddlesome opinions,” he growled, rebuffing her denial she had anything to do with his troubles. “If I want to lay with a lass upon meeting her, I bloody well will!”
“Which is fine.” It so wasn’t. “Or, as I’ve told you several times now, it would be fine if I weren’t in your mind hearing your thoughts.” Because she was, and it stunk. “But for whatever twisted reason, I’m stuck with you and have no desire to be in your mind when you sleep with a woman.” She shook her head though he couldn’t see her. “That’s just wrong on so many levels.”
“Aye, so you’ve said.” His tone took on a new octave, almost a growl. One she seriously didn’t trust. “Mayhap, then, ‘tis time you finally experience what every lass from Perth to Dupplin Moor was denied.”
Ah yes, yet another of his less-than-savory attributes. Unabashed cockiness with a heavy dash of arrogance. Too much, in her opinion. Overinflated. Which might very well mean he was compensating for something. That he wasn’t the ladies-can’t-get-enough-of-me Casanova he thought he was.
“Figure the odds of me experiencing anything you have to offer,” she exclaimed, alarmed at his insinuation to bed her.
Then again, he was just an unwanted voice in her head, right? Hopefully?
Yet deep down, she knew the wild tale he spun about what was going on in fourteenth-century Scotland was true. Normally she wouldn’t buy into such fantastical things, but here she was believing. There was more to the world than met the eye. Maybe on some level, she’d always known that. So said her long-buried secret. One she thought up to this point had been her imagination. After everything he shared, though, she realized the oddities of her past might just play a part in her future.
According to Cray, Julie and Chloe had traveled back in time to medieval Scotland to protect young King David II only to fall in love with their destined mates, Tiernan MacLomain and Aidan Hamilton. Both of whom she had briefly met when they were here. As it turned out, they were all on quite the adventure trying to save Scotland, and, the real kicker, to discover why their magic was fluctuating.
Magic, she balked? Aye, magic, Cray had confirmed.
All of them were supposedly wizards. If that wasn’t mind-blowing enough, Cray claimed he and his brother, Marek were half dragon too. Yeah, right, she’d exclaimed only to get a flash of dragon eyes in her mind. Oddly enough, though they should have terrified her, they didn’t. Rather they both mesmerized and appalled her.
Was he truly half monster?
Or had that been a trick of her imagination?
“Aye, I think ‘tis far past time you pay the price for making me suffer,” he threatened, pulling her from her thoughts back to the Stonehenge in her dream. “I think ‘tis time you—”
“Wake up, Madison,” came another voice from the fog.
Destiny? She frowned, still focused on Cray’s implication. “You better not come here.” She shook her head again. “I don’t want you anywhere near me.” Anywhere in her time period for that matter. “Do you hear me, Cray? You’re not welcome.”
“Madison, wake up,” Destiny repeated before the stones vanished, and she jolted awake to find her friend standing in front of her.
“Hey, sweetie.” Destiny smiled. “You were out cold.”
“So it seems.” She yawned, pushed her glasses up her nose, organized her IRS files into a tidy pile, and set them aside. The government’s endless yearly updates made being an accountant more than a full-time job. “What time is it?”
She had fallen asleep in the living room on a chair near the fire. Though tempted to race to the window to see if some sort of half-man-half-dragon disgruntled sex-crazed Scotsman lumbered their way, she stayed put. She also remained calm. Something she generally excelled at even when someone upset her. She needed to keep doing that too, no matter how much Cray tested her. Because she sensed as their conversations progressed and his frustration with her grew, that was what he liked to do. So best to remain unaffected and not let him rile her up.
Especially now that he’d threatened to head her way.
“It’s almost six.” Destiny’s silver-flecked dark blue eyes looked like black opal in this lighting. “Dinner’s in the oven.”
“You’re a saint,” Madison praised, though she wasn’t all that hungry. She did like order, though. Things done at a proper time. Coffee brewed by sun-up, lunch no later than one PM, then dinner by six. “I meant to get it started myself.”
“No worries.” Destiny stood with her back to the fire and considered the weather. “Though I haven’t heard from her lately, with any luck, Ciara should make it by morning. That’s when she said she’d arrive.” She sighed. “And hopefully, Julie and Chloe will finally return.”
She had no idea what to make of Destiny and Alyssa simply being okay with Julie and Chloe vanishing into thin air. As it were, their cars still sat in the driveway. Not to mention they had seen Chloe tromp into the woods after Aidan a few days ago never to return.
Rather than question Destiny and Alyssa's bizarre acceptance, she went with it because what could she say? Certainly not everything she’d learned. They would think she was bonafide crazy. Off the deep end. But then just look at their odd behavior. Definitely a result of something otherworldly. Something so far-fetched, she likely never would have believed it if she hadn’t put her ring on and had a medieval Scot talking to her telepathically.
Alyssa had thought nothing of putting her ring on, but Destiny still hadn’t. Which made her wonder. What was stranger? Alyssa being fine with putting on a very pricey Christmas present from Julie’s mysterious boyfriend? A man Alyssa had never even met. Or Destiny assuring her it was okay to wear yet refusing to wear her own? As if her friend sensed something about the ring she didn’t like. Which led back to Madison wondering how ‘magic’ could make Julie and Chloe’s disappearance acceptable when Destiny wasn’t even wearing her magical ring.
“I’ll be amazed if Ciara shows,” Madison remarked, not commenting on Julie and Chloe because she had no idea what to say. What Destiny must be thinking. Did she imagine them off on a post-storm hike? Or maybe the strange Scotsman who showed up out of the blue had a car parked down the street, and they were off somewhere with him?
Either way, best to leave it alone and keep the focus on Ciara.
“Honestly, I’m not sure why she’s bothering to come.” She unclipped her shoulder-length black hair, smoothed it, then clipped it back again. “Ciara might like Julie, but she doesn’t seem all that crazy about us Brouns.”
“It does seem that way,” Destiny conceded, clearly not convinced. But then outside of Julie, she was the only one who didn’t think Ciara was hard to get along with. Not that Ciara seemed all that cordial to Destiny.
“You actually think Ciara’s coming to finally meet us in person?” She shook her head, reflecting on the few times they'd chatted with her in the online Broun forum. “I just don’t buy it. I don’t connect with her any more than I thought you did.”
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“I don’t.” Destiny shrugged. “Sometimes I get the sense she doesn’t get along with us on purpose. That she’s not normally so difficult.”
“Why, because she gets along with Julie?”
“Yeah, partly.” Her brows pinched together, and her eyes narrowed. “There’s just something about her that makes me think there’s more to her than meets the eye. Something we’re all missing.”
Leave it to Destiny to give Ciara the benefit of the doubt. But then Destiny was one of a kind. A truly striking woman who seemed completely unaware of her beauty. If that weren’t enough, she was kind to a fault and wise beyond her years.
Though Madison hadn’t bought into this sort of thing until a few days ago, she’d now be willing to call Destiny an ‘old soul’ for lack of a better expression. She always seemed to know the right thing to say at the right time and had an uncanny sense about her. Maybe even psychic ability. For example, she had known Aidan was going to knock on the front door a few days ago moments before he even knocked.
“I put some water on to boil,” Alyssa said, appearing at the doorway. “Would anyone like some tea?”
“No, thanks,” Destiny replied. “We’ll be having something a little stronger.” Her knowing eyes cut to Madison. “Won’t we?”
Most definitely. But how did Destiny know she needed a stiff drink when she remained so relaxed? So outwardly calm despite her encounter with the ‘brooding beast?’ If she didn’t know better, she’d say her friend knew exactly what was going on.
Alyssa nodded in response and returned to the kitchen. As usual, their overly quiet friend wasn’t much for saying anything. Honestly, though Alyssa was nice enough, she had never met a drier personality. Which was telling because she wasn’t far off from that herself. Not on the surface anyway. She liked to think she had a little feistiness buried inside just waiting to make her a more interesting person. Granted, that was a lot to hope for but still.