Highland Burn (Guardians of Scotland Book 1)

by Victoria Zak

  “Ye saw my eyes, lass. There’s much more to me than that.”

  “How? I dinnae understand.”

  James took a deep breath. She deserved the truth. “Aye, Abigale, dragons have existed from the beginning of time. Dragons and humans co-existed until there came a time where balance was needed. Our elders of long ago placed our Dragonkine ancestors here to keep balance between dragons and humans.”

  Her dark brows furrowed. “Then why aren’t there more of yer…kind?”

  James took a step closer and was relieved when Abigale didn’t move. “’Tis a long story, but our people were brutally massacred by King MacAlpin. Some would say out of greed.” He shrugged. “Some would say out of hate. He showed mercy and saved seven of our warriors, but with it came a hefty price. We agreed to surrender our race to the kings of Scotland.”

  Abigale fell silent.

  “The fact remains, Abigale, I’m an immortal. I will roam this Earth until someone takes my head. I’m dragon, a fierce beast that's full of hate. And I’m every bit human.”

  James took another step closer until he was standing right in front of her. He stroked her face with the back of his hand and looked deeply into her eyes. “I’ve tried to shelter ye from all this, Abigale, I swear it. But I can no’ any longer."

  Abigale dropped her dirk. “An immortal? How old are ye?”

  James ran his fingers through her hair, picking away the dead leaves. “I’m the youngest out of the seven. I am as old as ye see me now, twenty and eight. I became Dragonkine when my da died.”

  “So ye are born Dragon…kine.”

  “Nay, we are chosen by Scottish kings and dragon elders. My da happened to be the strongest warrior Guardian, so when he died I took his place.”

  “Does my father know?”

  “Aye. I believe that’s why he wanted me to marry ye. To keep ye safe.” Up until this moment, James had never been so thankful and honored to be married to King Robert's daughter. If only he hadn’t been such a fool.

  Abigale’s mind was spinning. All the rumored tales of the Bogeyman were true. James was a monster, a beast…a dragon. She shook her head in disbelief. She had so many questions to ask but couldn’t form a coherent thought. Dragonkine…immortal. He was endless, time didn’t exist in his world. How…how was her future with James going to compare to her short life? He would watch her grow old while he stayed young.

  At that time a groan and heavy snort broke through her thoughts. James and Abigale looked over at Fergus as he lay on the forest floor. Without hesitation, Abigale ran over to him and dropped to her knees. “Nay! Fergus, get up.”

  James crouched down and examined the fallen steed. It didn’t look good, not at all. His hind leg was mangled and twisted deep within a root. Having seen this happen many times, especially on the battlefield, James knew it was already too late. He continued his examination until he saw a sharp branch embedded in the stallion’s chest.

  James stood and raked a hand down his face. “Abigale, I’m sorry, but Fergus is fatally wounded.”

  “Nay, he’ll be fine once we get him back home.” Denial had set in, giving Abigale false hope. She couldn’t lose Fergus, nor was she going to leave the glen without her friend.

  “I’m sorry lass, but if we remove that branch it will kill him.” James pointed to the bloody branch. “The only kind thing we can do for him is to put him out of his misery.”

  “Nay!” Abigale cried out. She sobbed uncontrollably as she ran her hands through Fergus’s white and gray mane. “No, Fergus.”

  She’d seen the blood. She’d even seen the branch protruding from his chest, but she refused to believe Fergus was dying. He was in a tremendous amount of pain and suffering.

  James crouched down by Abigale and took her tear-streaked face in his hands. He wiped a tear from her cheek. “Ye can no’ let him suffer. Let me help him,” James pleaded with her.

  Her world stood still. She understood Fergus suffered yet she couldn’t respond. Eight years with him was too short. He deserved more time. It wasn’t fair.

  Abigale nodded, accepting Fergus’s fate. She leaned over the horse and whispered in his ear, “Be brave my friend. I’ll see ye soon." Abigale slowly stood, never taking her eyes off of her beloved. She began to walk toward a clearing in the forest, allowing James to do the honorable thing.

  The sight of Abigale on her knees rocking back and forth and crying was absolute torture. He wished he could take her pain away. He wished he’d stopped her before she ran out of Black Stone. Why was it that every time he was around, he caused her so much suffering, when all he really wanted all along was to love her?

  James walked over to his wife, placed a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed. He wasn’t a man of many words and didn’t know what to say, but he wanted her to know he was there for her.

  “Dinnae touch me,” Abigale said. She stood and faced him. “Don’t ever touch me again.” Her blue eyes pierced him. “This is yer fault and I will never forgive ye.” She pounded her tiny fists on his chest.

  He allowed her to get it all out, absorbing the blows.

  “I mean it, James Douglas, I curse the day I ever set eyes on ye,” Abigale cried.

  James wrapped his massive arms around her. Giving her his strength was all he could do, for no words of wisdom or comfort could take the hurt away. He pulled her tight against his chest. She struggled against his hold but the more she fought, the tighter he held on. He would hold her until there was no fight left, until she cried her last tear.

  Before long, Abigale gave up and her body went limp in his arms. James picked her up and whistled for his mare. The black warhorse came at once. Once mounted, James sat behind Abigale, cradling her across his lap as they left the glen to return to Black Stone. As soon as they were settled, he would send a group of men to retrieve Fergus and make sure he was given a proper burial.

  17

  Without darkness your true light cannot be tested.

  Off in the distance, dark clouds gathered high above, creeping across the blue sky. The wind blew angry ripples across the water of the loch. James sat on a boulder looking toward the brewing storm. The wind blew again, but this time there was a chill in the air, causing his skin to prickle. “I curse the day I met ye, James Douglas,” whispered through the breeze. He shifted and pulled his cloak up around his shoulders. Aye, a storm was coming.

  Back to the task at hand, he extended a black claw and began to carve into a piece of birch. He’d been here since the mist rose and would stay until the storm threatened to unleash its wrath.

  Two days had passed since that dreadful day, yet Abigale was still mourning the loss of Fergus. She refused to get out of bed, refused to eat, and refused everyone except Alice and Effie. The women were overly protective of her and didn’t allow visitors, though they couldn’t prevent the laird from sleeping outside her bedchamber door every night. James didn’t take no for an answer when it came to Abigale’s safety. If someone was out there wanting to harm his bel ange, they would have to go through him first.

  His cherished deerhound Lennox’s ears perked, and she stood as if to alert him that someone was approaching. “Easy, lassie,” James reassured her. He already knew who it was. Dragons knew their own kind.

  “I thought I’d see ye out here.” Conall bent down and patted Lennox on the head.

  “Aye, Conall, I was expecting ye.” James continued to whittle.

  Standing next to James with his arms crossed over his chest, Conall looked straight ahead at the loch. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “Aye.”

  They stood in silence for a moment. Conall had something on his mind. He shifted his eyes to the ground and rocked back on his heels. “I come to ask for yer forgiveness, my laird.”

  James creased his brows. “For what?”

  “For leaving ye on the trail alone. ‘Tis my fault ye were—”

  “Conall, I was an arse. I dinnae blame ye for leaving.”

  Conall ex
haled in relief. Most men would have found their heads on spikes for leaving their laird unprotected, but they had a different type of relationship. They were close like brothers and quite frankly, James was the only one Conall truly trusted.

  Needing to know more about the attack on his friend, he took a deep breath and questioned him. “Do ye think the shooting and the raid were led by the same person?”

  “I dinnae know, but it seems to me someone wants my attention. I believe they raided the village looking for Abigale. They knew she would be there.”

  “Have ye talked with Magnus about the attacks?”

  “Aye, he feels that there’s a change in the air and the earth has become unbalanced.” James struck his claw against the birch in aggravation. "And there’s a weed in the garden that needs to be pulled.”

  Conall smirked and shook his head. “I really wish the old man didnae speak in riddles.”

  “He’s requesting an audience with the dragon elders.”

  “How is he going to do that?” Conall questioned.

  James looked up from his carving and asked himself the same question. This would not be an easy task. It would require Magnus to travel to a realm beyond their world. A realm where dragons ruled. Knowing the dangers that lay ahead, James suspected that there was more to it than just an attack. Indeed, the earth was beginning to shift. “I dinnae know my friend, but Magnus can be verra convincing."

  “A traitor,” Conall growled.

  “Aye.”

  “Why betray yer own kind?” Conall shook his head in disgust. Loyalty was something dragons took very seriously. Loyalty meant you were family, and family didn’t turn to the enemy live to tell the tale.

  Blowing the birch dust away from his creation, James paused and looked over the loch as if he was searching for answers. “We are all made of greed, Conall. No matter how much power, coin, or battles won we’ll always want more.”

  “James, ye make us sound like English filth. We are nothing like them.”

  “How so?”

  “We protect Scotland and they want to destroy her. As long as I have my head and breath in my body, I will defend her.”

  “I once believed that, too, my friend, but too much innocent blood has been spilled.” Abigale came to mind. She was born into danger just because of who her father was, and now because of him, she was in more danger. Someone knew he was a dragon, and what better way to kill a dragon than to steal his mate, or even worse, kill her?

  “Have ye been to see Abigale?”

  Conall had to ask, didn’t he? A black claw scraped against the wood as James continued to carve. “Nay, Alice and Effie have made it perfectly clear that Abigale is in no mood to be graced by my presence.”

  Conall chuckled. “Och, why don’t ye let me take care of the lassies?” He winked.

  For some reason James knew there was more to it than just distracting the girls.

  “Conall, ye’re a good man. I’ll be back to Black Stone shortly.”

  With that, Conall nodded and turned to go, but before he left, he said, “I’ve had my share of darkness, but I chose to let some light in.”

  James watched Conall as he rode off. Pondering his words, he wondered if it was too late for him. James had unlocked his door, even if it was only a crack. Now it was Abigale who was shutting it. He never meant to hurt her. For the first time in his life he realized just how out of control he'd become. Conall was right; he needed Abigale. She calmed him in ways that he had a hard time explaining. He wanted to live in the light, to be the man and dragon his wife deserved.

  Yet, he knew he had to let her go, if she wanted to leave. Frankly, why would she want to stay? There was one last chance to make it right.

  Retracting his black claw back into his fingertip, James held the carving up to the bit of remaining sunlight. Nice smooth edges and intricate details were whittled to perfection. He slipped the tiny treasure into the inner pocket of his jerkin. James stood and walked to his mare as Lennox followed right behind him. It was time he faced Abigale, whether she wanted to see him or not.

  18

  When playing with a fire dragon, be prepared to feel the burn.

  James paced outside Abigale’s bedchamber, practicing over and over in his head what he was going to say to her. On his way back to Black Stone, he’d thought about how his wife was going to react. What if Abigale threw his arse out? What if she wouldn’t listen as he poured his heart out? Better yet, mayhap she would forgive him and he could spend the rest of his days making it up to her. Nay, that was as farfetched an idea as to say brownies secretly lived in the castle, using their magic to clean. Now wouldn't Alice like a few of those creatures scouring about?

  James was procrastinating. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “God’s blood.” Wasn’t he a warrior who had planned battles, commanded many men to victory, and fought to reclaim his lands? He was acting like the wee child he’d been the day when he was forced to leave his father and his world changed forever. James’s chest tightened.

  Enough time had been wasted. He was going into that bedchamber, right words or not.

  James tapped on the door, only to be welcomed by silence.

  James opened the door but didn’t cross the threshold. As he entered the chamber a tangy smell assaulted his senses. Sage. Aye, Alice was up to her cleansing rituals. He inwardly laughed at the thought of Alice smudging the room of evil spirits as he freely walked toward Abigale. How ironic.

  Standing by the foot of the bed, James’s heart pounded at the sight of wife sleeping on her side. The linen sheets clung to her curves, auburn curls splayed over her shoulder. He wished he could pull back the sheets and wrap his arms around her. Mayhap take some of her heartache away. But she’d made it clear that she didn’t want him to touch her.

  He cleared his throat and swallowed down the bile that began to rise from his stomach. “Abigale, I—”

  Abigale turned over and pinned him with a cold gaze. Every word escaped him. Expressing himself seemed pointless when it was obvious she hated him.

  He’d never seen such bitterness in her before. It left him chilled. And knowing he’d done this to her left him full of regret. James squeezed her foot tenderly as if his touch could bring her some kind of comfort. She drew her foot away and turned her back on him. As James moved to the head of the bed, two big trunks came into view. His heart clenched and deep inside, his dragon moaned in sorrow. Abigale had packed for Bothwell. She plans on leaving me, he realized.

  The room filled with silence except for the sound of the rain that pelted the window. James bent down and took an auburn curl in his hand. He stroked the curl with his thumb. “I've already lost ye, lass, haven’t I?” Tears burned his eyes. He couldn’t let her go. But what could he do?

  Abigale didn't move. She laid on her side, refusing to look at him. It was time for him to go, but he couldn’t move. If he left the chamber he would never see his bel ange again.

  James stood and reached inside the pocket of his jerkin, pulling out the wooden sculpture he’d made by the loch. Giving it a long look, he placed it on the nightstand by the bed. With a last glance at Abigale, he left the chamber.

  Every word he wanted to say now echoed down the empty corridor, mocking him for being a bloody coward. Every step he took reminded him she was moving on, confirming he’d been right all along. He didn’t want a wife but needed Abigale more than he needed the air he breathed.

  The force of the door shutting sent a shiver down Abigale’s spine. There were no tears left to shed, no emotions left to feel. Alice had informed her this morn that two days had passed, but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall where they had gone.

  After the shock of Fergus’s death had broken, she came to her senses and blamed herself. James had done the honorable thing by putting the horse out of his misery. She should never have ridden him that hard through the glen.

  Because she had some time, Abigale needed to sort through her thoughts. She’d questioned her feelings a
nd why she stayed where she wasn’t wanted. Had she been so absorbed by her own dreams and fantasy of having a family that she refused to accept reality? Why was she holding on to a man who was unobtainable?

  If she listened to good reason she would go to Bothwell and begin a new life. After all she still had her freedom. On the contrary, if she listened to her heart it would most definitely deceive her.

  James was an honorable man. Not once did he take advantage of her. In fact, he’d saved her from danger time-and-time again. He was devoted to her father. By marrying her, he’d given up his days on the battlefield. Through his honest nature, he showed her that he cared for her the only way he knew how. Surely, anyone who had to deal with a dragon inside of them had their own burdens to bear.

  Then, as if the clouds had lifted, it dawned on her…The entire time, he’d been protecting her from himself. A dragon. Abigale sat up. James was a dragon. The more she said it, the more she believed it. She was in love with a dragon.

  Nonsense. Abigale threw the cover aside and climbed out of bed.

  She paced in front of her window. James was here, why didn’t he say something? Abigale Bruce, ye didn’t give him much of a chance. She shook her head. “I’m going to Bothwell and far away from…him.” Saying it out loud stung. “Besides.” She folded her arms across her chest, “I won’t have to pack.” Her trunks had just arrived a few days ago from Castle Douglas, and there they sat—unpacked.

  Abigale quit pacing when she noticed something on her nightstand that wasn’t there before. Odd, she normally kept a candle and snuffer, nothing more. When she got closer to the nightstand, she saw a wooden statue of a horse. Taking the figure in her hands, she smoothed her fingers over the wood. “It’s Fergus.” Bewildered, she inspected it inch by inch. Every detail whittled into the birch was a testament to Fergus’s perfection. Every strand of hair and muscle was skillfully carved, even down to his hooves.