“If by that you mean I’m willing to marry your prince, nay. Never. I will not have him for husband and I will not be used as a pawn in your political games.”
“You willful—”
“Stubborn, obnoxious child,” she finished for him. “I know, Father. I am your bane. Your curse.”
“But above all, she is your child, sire.”
Cat turned to find Lochlan standing just behind her.
“Your insolence is not endearing you to us, boy.”
Lochlan inclined his head to her father. “Forgive me, Majesty. But I’m not sworn to protect France. I’m sworn to protect Catarina from any who would do her harm.”
Her father’s face hardened instantly. “Do you understand the line you are crossing?”
Lochlan nodded. “Aye, Majesty.”
“And you are willing to give your life for hers?”
She exchanged a scowl with Lochlan. “What say you?”
He jerked his chin toward his daughter. “Does her freedom mean more to you than your own life?”
Lochlan frowned at his question. Was he asking what he thought?
“Answer me, boy. Will you die for her freedom?”
Aye, he was indeed.
“Nay!” Cat shouted.
But Lochlan knew the truth and he didn’t hesitate with the answer. “Aye, Majesty.”
The king scoffed. “Words are ever easy to come by. ’Tis actions we respect.” He snapped his fingers and the executioner came forward with his sword. “If you mean what you say, then kneel before us and let us sever your head from your body. The moment you die, her freedom from our will is granted.”
Cat shrieked and would have clawed her father had one of his guards not seized her. “You rotten bastard! Damn you for this! Damn you!”
But there was no mercy on Philip’s face.
Lochlan took a deep breath as he considered all he was giving up for her. But in the end, he knew it would be worth it. “I have your word that she will be free to roam as she pleases?”
“Absolutely. Bought and paid for in your blood.”
Lochlan nodded before he turned to where Cat was fighting the guard with everything she had. “May I have a final moment with her, Majesty?”
He let out a disgusted breath. “We suppose a last request would not be unseemly given the circumstances.”
Lochlan approached her slowly. “Catarina!” he snapped.
She stopped her fighting to look at him. Tears were streaming down her face as sobs racked her body. “Don’t you do this, Lochlan. Don’t you dare!”
His own eyes were misty as he used the sleeve of his tunic to wipe the tears from her face. She was so beautiful. So wonderful. “I told you, lass. One hour or a million. ’Tis enough for me.”
“I can’t lose you. Do you understand?”
He cupped her face in his hands as he tried to make her understand what she was gaining. “You will live and you won’t have to run ever again. There will be no more looking over your shoulder. No more fear of being taken when you sleep. It’s a small price I gladly pay for you.”
She kicked her guard so hard, he released her so that she could run to him.
Lochlan scooped her up in his arms and held her close to him one last time.
“Why didn’t you run with me when I asked you to?”
Lochlan had to bite back his own tears. “I wish I had, lass. Kestrel was right. It’s what you don’t do that haunts you most. I’m sorry. If I could go back to last night, I’d gladly run and forget everything else in the world.”
Unable to stand it any longer, he brushed his lips over her cheek and inhaled the sweet scent of her skin. That was all he would take with him to his death. The memory of her touch. Of her scent.
He pushed her gently toward Raziel. “Don’t let her see it.”
Raziel nodded grimly as Catarina cried out in denial and reached for him.
Lochlan let her go and turned back to Philip, who was watching them with a stoic expression. This was the hardest thing Lochlan had ever done.
Run you bastard, run.
But he couldn’t. He’d given his word and he would abide by that.
So he met her father’s gaze levelly. Without fear or remorse. Well the latter most certainly wasn’t true. He had remorse for every day he wouldn’t live on this earth with Catarina.
Steeling himself, he dropped to his knees and lowered his head.
Cat fought against Raziel’s hold. “Let me go!”
“Stop it!” Raziel hissed in her ear. “The man goes to his grave for you, woman. The least you could do is let him die without hearing your anguished cries ringing in his ears.”
He was right and it was killing her. Lochlan deserved more than this.
“I love you, Lochlan,” she said, hating the fact that her voice broke as she spoke the words. “I will always love you and you alone.”
Raziel turned her toward the wall and held her so that she couldn’t see what was happening.
“Have you any last words?” her father demanded of Lochlan.
Lochlan pulled the small crucifix from his neck. He crossed himself, then kissed it and held it out toward the king. “For Catarina.” He glanced over his shoulder to see her cringing while trying to remain brave. “I love you, too, lass. May God keep you always.”
Philip snatched the cross from his hand, then nodded to his executioner.
Lochlan braced himself for the blow. He saw the shadow of the man raising the sword on the stone floor. Closing his eyes, he prayed.
Cat heard the soft thunk behind her. And there in the firelight of the rising sun she felt her legs give away as the most unimaginable pain tore through her. She wanted to scream, but no sound could squeak past the vicious, burning lump of agony in her throat.
Lochlan was dead and it was all her fault.
She was only vaguely aware of Raziel holding her up. “I want to die, too,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Whatever happens in your life, girl,” her father said from beside her, “I want you to remember this pain that you feel right now. Keep it close to your heart because so long as you remember it, it will keep you from being stupid again.”
She looked up aghast at her father’s cruelty.
Only it wasn’t her father’s face she saw, it was Lochlan.
He was alive and he was holding her.
“Wha…?” It was a ridiculous response, but her mind couldn’t grasp the fact that it was his arms holding her and not Raziel’s. And he looked every bit as baffled as she felt. “I don’t understand.”
Her father narrowed his gaze on her. “You are a princess related to three monarchies, Catarina. Did you really think we would allow you to run away with someone who saw you as nothing more than a title?”
He looked at Lochlan. “Lord Stryder told us you loved her more than your life. But we didn’t believe him. We needed to see proof of this love. Now we know exactly how far you are willing to go to ensure not just her life, but her happiness.” For the first time, his features softened. “There is no better gift a father could have for his child.”
Still Cat wasn’t ready to forgive him quite so easily. “You insensitive beast!” she snarled as tears washed down her face. “This was so cruel.”
He nodded. “In time I trust you will learn to forgive me. In the meantime, I have a priest outside who is willing to make an honest woman of you.”
“What?”
Philip shrugged. “He was to either marry the two of you or perform Last Rites if Lochlan didn’t agree to die for you.”
Cat looked over her shoulder to see Lochlan’s own baffled expression.
Before either of them could respond, the executioner threw off his cloak to reveal Stryder, who was smiling at them. “I suppose you should hate me, too. But trust me, I knew if the king saw for himself what was so obvious to the rest of us, he would never be able to condemn you to marry another.”
Philip cleared his throat. “So are we going to
have a wedding, or are we all going to stand around looking irritable?”
For the first time since Lochlan had shaken her awake, Cat allowed herself to smile. “Oh we’re going to have a wedding, Father, and then you and I are going to have a long talk about mutual respect and about how you will never again do such a thing to me.”
“Aye, but look to the bright side, child. When a man is knighted, he’s given a stiff blow so that he’ll always remember the moment. This was your blow to let you know exactly how much your husband means to you and how much he loves you. Everyone should be so blessed.”
And in that moment, she realized he was right. Shaking her head, she left Lochlan’s arms to stand before her father. “I may not always agree with your methods, but I do love you, Father. And I’m glad you came to your senses.”
He laughed for an instant, then sobered. “Where’s that priest? We want our daughter well settled.”
Cat turned toward Lochlan and Stryder. “Trust me, Father. I couldn’t be in better hands.”
Epilogue
Six months later
Lochlan smiled as he left the kitchens with a loaf of fresh bread for Catarina. She was ripe with his child and craving hot bread. Far be it from him to deprive her of this even though it was almost midnight.
He still couldn’t believe that she was his wife. Although the irritating presence of Bavel and Viktor in his home was more than enough to convince him that she was a permanent part of his life. Even so, she was worth the aggravation of their presence.
“Lochlan?”
He froze as he heard his name carried through the darkness on a light breeze. It was a voice he’d thought to never hear again.
His throat tightened. Surely, he was hearing things. “Kieran?”
A shadow to his right stirred.
He turned sharply, prepared to draw his sword. But as Kieran stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight all he could do was gape.
It couldn’t be…
“Is it really you?”
Kieran nodded.
“How is this possible?”
“There are some questions that should never be asked, brother. But I’ve heard you all these years, calling out to me…cursing me. Berating me.” Kieran looked toward the castle. “I hear all of you and now that you have a chance for happiness, I didn’t want to be the one thing that tainted it.”
“But you’re not dead.”
“I am dead, Lochlan.” Kieran opened his mouth to show him a set of fangs. “My soul was given up so that Duncan, Stryder, and the others could escape from our hell and do something good with their lives.”
Lochlan didn’t understand what had happened to his brother, but if he’d given up his soul, there had to be some way to undo it. “We’ll get your soul back.”
“’Tis not possible. I made a bargain and I’m more than willing to abide by it. But I couldn’t keep existing, knowing the pain I was causing you. I’m sorry for what I said to you, Lochlan. And I’m even more sorry for the pain I caused all of you. Please forgive me.”
Kieran’s presence here was unn atural and demonic. He knew it, but it didn’t change the facts of their relationship.
“You’re my brother, Kieran. How could I not forgive you?”
“Thank you.” Kieran looked away and smiled. “Your wife needs you. She wants her bread and your son is eager to join this world.”
“My son?”
“The babe is a boy. I can feel his soul. He’s strong and good, like his father. Now I, too, must go.” He stepped back, toward the shadows.
“Will I ever see you again?”
Kieran shook his head. “I’m forbidden to have contact with my family. But know that I hear you every time you think of me and tell Ewan to stop cursing me every time he sees water. It gets old.” He smiled as if he heard Lochlan’s thoughts. “I love you, too, brother.”
And with that, Kieran vanished right before his eyes.
Lochlan stood there for several minutes, wondering if he’d dreamed it.
“It wasn’t a dream.” Kieran’s voice echoed in his head.
“Lochlan?”
He turned at the sound of Catarina’s voice. “Aye, love. I was just coming.”
She stopped on the short trail to scowl at him. “Are you all right?”
“Aye, I couldn’t be any better.”
“Good. I was talking to Bavel just now and we’ve decided on the baby’s name should it be a boy.”
“And that is?”
“Kieran, after your brother. Would you mind?”
Lochlan glanced back to where Kieran had appeared to him a moment ago. “Nay, love, I think that would be wonderful and I’m sure it will make my brother happy.”
“And what of you?”
“So long as you are with me, lass, I can be nothing but delirious.”
About the Author
Bestselling author KINLEY MACGREGOR knows men. She lives outside of Nashville, Tennessee, with her husband and three sons. Raised in the middle of eight boys, and currently outnumbered by the Y chromosome in her home, she realizes the most valuable asset a woman has for coping with men is a sense of humor. Not to mention a large trash bag and a pair of tongs.
Writing as Kinley MacGregor, she is the bestselling author of the Brotherhood of the Sword and the MacAllisters series, and as her alter ego Sherrilyn Kenyon, she is the New York Times bestselling author of the Dark-Hunter, Sex Camp Diaries, and BAD series.
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Teresa Medeiros
By Kinley MacGregor
Lords of Avalon®
KNIGHT OF DARKNESS
SWORD OF DARKNESS
Brotherhood of the Sword
THE WARRIOR
RETURN OF THE WARRIOR
A DARK CHAMPION
TAMING THE SCOTSMAN
BORN IN SIN
CLAIMING THE HIGHLANDER
MASTER OF DESIRE
Sea Wolves
MASTER OF SEDUCTION
A PIRATE OF HER OWN
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE WARRIOR. Copyright © 2007 by Sherrilyn Kenyon. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
ePub edition October 2007 ISBN 9780061758690
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