Avenged by a Highland Laird

by Sky Purington

  Its offsetting appearance.

  It was too disconcerting.

  Or at least it was for everyone but Jessie.

  She seemed perfectly at ease, maybe too at ease, as it drew closer. When it did, they formed a wide circle around it.

  “I missed you, Jessie,” it whispered. “Let me finish this then come home with me, aye?”

  Bryce frowned as the voice became less raspy and more like his own.

  “Home,” she murmured as the book dropped from her limp hands. “I’d like that.”

  Adlin shook his head, his face as disgruntled as the rest of theirs. Jessie’s mind was clouding over, drifting further and further away from them. All she could see was Bryce in the warlock. How much she wanted to be with him always.

  “So ye’ll let me finish off everyone here,” the warlock whispered. “Then fix Scotland’s history so we can always be together?”

  “Together,” she whispered as though under a spell. “Always.”

  “Together,” he repeated. “Always.”

  Their eyes held as though in mutual understanding before a sly grin curled his lips. “Ye really do want me, aye?”

  “So much,” she whispered. “I always have.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m strong when I’m with you. Not weak and emotional.”

  It seemed Jessie had well and truly lost herself, so they sprang into action. Adlin and Grant began chanting, evidently accessing the spiritual realm as everyone except Jessie started throwing all they had at it.

  As it turned out, the rings did help...somewhat.

  Conall began by manipulating the air enough that the warlock glanced in his direction. The moment it did, Lindsay enchanted it to remain where it was. Milly confused it by astral-projecting all around it while Adlin and Grant started barraging it with something that made it scowl in discomfort. Though her blade didn’t seem to cause it any physical pain, Christina certainly irritated the warlock as she continually attacked it with her sword. Aðísla chanted and peeled away the branches overhead while Graham made sure rain clouds vanished and bright sunlight poured down.

  For all appearances, the warlock seemed to be weakening.

  Sven’s eyes had turned dragon as he took up position behind the warlock and nodded at Bryce. This was his moment, and the Viking intended to be his back-up in case he needed it.

  More than ready to end this horrible creature once and for all, Bryce embraced his dragon. Blazing fury filled him as he peered down at the warlock. This was the moment he would avenge his mate. The moment she would finally get her dragon back. That in mind, he rallied his rage, reared his head back, ready to thrust it forward and release fire, but stopped short. Frozen, his insides twisted as the warlock’s eyes met his. No, not the warlock’s.

  Jessie’s.

  More so, her dragon’s.

  Everybody had been so focused on Jessie’s reaction to the warlock that they hadn’t taken into consideration Bryce’s. Because what he experienced now was pure torture. Her dragon was in there. His true mate. How could he ever snuff her life out? It would be impossible. He would rather die.

  A sly smile curled the warlock’s lips as he took full advantage of Bryce’s hesitation. Not just his but Sven’s too as the warlock’s eyes flared with the power of the dragon, broke free of everyone’s magic and spun on the Viking.

  Fury ravaged Sven’s features when he went to shift but stopped. Then he drew his ax as if to fight but again stopped. Like Bryce, his dragon wouldn’t allow him to harm her dragon. She might not be his mate, but she was an innocent female. Kin. And that meant he could only ever protect not harm her.

  The warlock released a horrible peal of laughter then a blink later vanished.

  Just like that, he was gone.

  Though furious, Bryce set aside his emotions as he shifted back and went to Jessie. Was she okay? He cupped her shoulders and tried to meet her eyes. Fear shot through him at her dazed expression. “Lass, are you all right?”

  She blinked several times in confusion before, thank the gods, her eyes focused on his. “Oh no, I let you down didn’t I?”

  “Och, nay.” He shook his head and pulled her into his arms. “If anything I let you down.”

  “What happened?” she murmured. “I barely remember anything except you...” She shook her head. “I mean him.”

  The way she said ‘him’ set Bryce on edge. As if she felt affection she just could not help.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, sadness in her eyes as they met his again. “I guess it’s going to be harder than I thought separating from him.” Her eyes welled. “We just have so much history.”

  He frowned, not pleased with her wobbly, heartfelt words at all. Yet he didn’t fault her for her honesty or for feeling the way she did.

  “’Twill be okay, lass,” he replied softly. “Now we know what to expect next time. What our weaknesses are.”

  She nodded, still upset. But then how could she not be when their weaknesses seemed almost insurmountable. They now knew Bryce couldn’t defeat the warlock because he simply could not kill his mate. And Jessie? Well, she certainly didn’t seem to be strengthening any when it came to the warlock. Again, he didn’t blame her. She was a pawn in an evil game being played out by the leftovers of a corrupt man.

  “We’ll figure this out,” Grant murmured. “There has to be a way.”

  Jessie shook her head. “I had hoped at the very least you and Adlin might be able to sense the warlock’s weaknesses. Did you?”

  “Nay, ‘tis verra powerful.” Adlin shook his head and scowled. “If anything, all we did was show it our weaknesses.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Jessie murmured as she picked up her book and shoved it in her pocket. “So I guess, in some ways, we’re back to square one.”

  “There’s got to be another way, and we’ll figure it out.” Grant rubbed the back of his neck as he mulled it over. “I refuse to let this warlock win.” He sighed. “But what else to throw at it? I just used all my magic to no avail.”

  “Aye,” Adlin agreed as he clasped Grant’s shoulder in reassurance. “’Tis all right, my friend. We’ll figure this out. We always do.”

  It was a quiet walk back as everyone came to terms with what seemed to be a no-win situation. Nevertheless, they needed to remain vigilant in the upcoming battle because the warlock would be back and they hadn’t a clue what it had up its sleeve.

  Later that evening after watching a day of battle preparations, things still weighed heavily on Bryce’s mind. He and Jessie had been given their own tent and were retired for the evening. Alarmingly enough, she had remained withdrawn all day, and it bothered him greatly. She seemed a great distance away from him, and it almost felt like she was doing it on purpose. That the warlock had truly affected her perspective on things. Namely Bryce himself. And based on what he sensed, it wasn’t good.

  Yet he sought only to comfort her.

  “’Twill be all right, lass,” he assured, whether or not he believed it.

  Her eyes met his as they sat by the fire. “Yes, it will.”

  And there, above all else, was the primary reason for his alarm. The new spark in her eyes. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was defiance. Yet he had the oddest feeling that defiance wasn’t directed toward who it should be.

  “You dinnae seem yourself,” he said softly, eying her as her gaze returned to the fire. “What troubles you, Jessie?”

  “What doesn’t trouble me,” she murmured. Her eyes remained on the flames like they had back in the beginning. “I can’t stand feeling so helpless...” Her brows pinched together in frustration. “So out of control.”

  Though he could well imagine how that might bother her, she seemed far too focused on it. “Remember, you dinnae need to be in control anymore. ‘Tis time to lean on all of us...” He took her hand, hoping she would look at him. “On me.”

  She didn’t look his way but scowled at the fire. “I am...I’m trying...”

  But she wasn�
��t. He could feel her inner struggle. Her need to be as strong as she was before. It didn’t seem to matter that she had dragon lineage or even dragon magic. All she focused on was how she had been with the warlocks. How powerful.

  “The warlock affected your mind today.” He frowned and shook his head. “That is why you feel as you do.”

  “If anything, he reminded me,” she whispered.

  Now he was the one scowling. “Reminded you of what?”

  “Nothing,” she said softly as she stood. “I’m tired.” She headed for the cot without looking back. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, lass,” he murmured as she curled up under the blankets and turned away from him.

  What the bloody hell was wrong with her? No kiss? Affection? She had gone from being lustful to cold and distant. The warlock had to have done this. There was no other explanation. Because she couldn’t truly be feeling this way, right? She couldn’t really be having doubts about them. About what she and Bryce had found together.

  As he remained in front of the fire, he began to give into his own fears. Mayhap she truly was having doubts. Mayhap reconnecting with the warlock was all it took. As his thoughts festered, it seemed more and more plausible. Only one thing kept him level headed in the end.

  Jessie.

  Though the thought of letting go of their love both saddened and terrified him, he would if it meant saving her. He had promised her he would protect her at all cost, so that was what he intended to do. He would let her go because he loved her and refused to allow her to suffer a life with the warlock.

  It would not happen.

  Even if it meant forfeiting his own life to achieve such.

  Because were they not one and the same? Which meant if he died so should his enemy.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THOUGH IT WASN’T raining, the morning of the Battle of Byland Moor dawned overcast and dreary. Or at least it seemed that way to Jessie.

  She feared what might be on the horizon. The enemy had planned well, and this last warlock might truly get his way. She sighed and tossed Bryce a guilty look. Though he was incredibly good about it, she felt like a rift had grown between them since yesterday. That she had let him down.

  Yet that wasn’t her only reason for feeling guilty.

  No that had more to do with the warlock’s allure.

  Something she clearly couldn’t get past.

  “Are you ready then, lass?” Bryce said softly as his eyes met hers. “’Twill be a day that goes down in history.”

  She worried it might very well. Just not the way he meant it.

  “Yes.” She nodded, sure to look and sound confident as he hoisted her onto a horse then swung up behind her.

  Sir Walter Stewart had already left with three hundred moss-troopers. His mission was to attack Rievaulx Abbey as soon as the English line was broken by the Scottish Army on Roulston Scar. Christina and Graham had traveled with him to offer any help they could.

  Sir James Douglas was already off with his soldiers lighting more fires to create extra smoke. This would conceal Robert’s movements from the Earl of Richmond, the English commander. Right now, she, Bryce and his kin were traveling with Robert’s army. Unable to help himself, Conall intended to make sure the smoke was thick and nearly impossible to see through.

  She and Bryce said very little as they traveled, and within a few hours, they arrived around the rear of Roulston Scar. The smoke had, as planned, concealed a good two thirds of Robert’s army in clumps of trees below a gully close to where they were now. The purpose of this move, of course, was to give the appearance that the Scottish army hosted far fewer men than it actually did.

  “We’ll not engage in battle lest we have to,” Grant said to Robert as they dismounted. “For historical reasons, that is.”

  “Aye.” Robert nodded, having heard the same at the Battle of Bannockburn.

  She knew it was awful timing, but nature called so she whispered to Bryce, “I need a few moments alone.”

  “’Tis not a verra good time, lass.” He frowned. “These woods are dangerous.”

  She flinched. “I don’t think I can hold it.”

  “Och,” he murmured but nodded. “Aye then, I’ll take you someplace private.” He took her into the forest a short distance but far enough. “Is this all right?”

  It would have to be. She would not risk waiting any longer. Especially considering she had caught his thoughts last night and knew of Bryce’s dark intentions. That he would forfeit his own life in hopes of destroying the warlock.

  “Yes, this spot is fine,” she replied softly, not needing to relieve herself at all. That had been a lie to get them alone. Courage rallied as much as it ever would be, she met his eyes and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry,” he began but trailed off as the air grew icy. Stunned, he shook his head. The look in his eyes was both horror-stricken and heartbroken as he realized what was happening.

  She had betrayed him.

  “I just can’t let him go,” she murmured as she backed away from him. “I was a fool for thinking I could.” She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “He’s been with me for so long...not you.”

  “But I am him,” Bryce replied, his voice hoarse and his brogue thick. “Ye said so yerself.”

  “I said that because I was weak and afraid after being separated from him,” she replied as the warlock drew closer, triumph in his dark eyes as he relished Bryce’s reaction. “He kept me strong where you only make me weaker.”

  With a small chant and a flick of her hand, she flung Bryce's weapons away from him so he couldn’t take his own life and possibly the warlocks with it.

  His scowl only deepened as he looked from the warlock to her. “Ye cannae be serious.”

  “Just look at me!” She wiped away a tear with disgust. “This isn’t how I want to live. Feeling weak,” her eyes went to the warlock, “when I could feel strong.” Her eyes returned to Bryce with resolve. “I refuse to live this way...I’m helping my love.” She shook her head again. “Him, not you.”

  She pulled out her little book and looked at the warlock. A face she recognized so well. A man she wanted to be with above all others. Her true love.

  “Are you ready?” she whispered. “Are you ready to warn the English and see that they win today?”

  “Aye,” the warlock murmured, his dark eyes glistening with approval. “I have been ready for a verra long time.”

  This was it. The moment she had been waiting for.

  So she flipped to the page after the one she had drawn of him yesterday and made one single stroke. Then she flipped to the next page and began sketching rapidly but not before the warlock figured out something was wrong and ripped the book away.

  As his eyes fell to the page she had made one stroke on, Adlin and Grant appeared.

  “Och, nay,” the warlock seethed, as his disbelieving eyes flew to hers. “What have ye done?”

  What she had done, working covertly with the arch-wizards, was concoct a plan.

  One she prayed would work.

  Seconds later, mimicking the picture she had begun yesterday and just finished, her gem began to glow. Not the dark inkiness of the warlock’s eyes but the bright golden of Bryce’s. Now she could only hope it wasn’t just her manifestation but the real deal.

  That God willing, true love really did exist between her and Bryce.

  Half a breath later, things started happening.

  The warlock kept shaking his head, pain and betrayal in his eyes as his features began to twist and change. They became less and less Bryce’s and more grotesque before a wave of energy burst out of him and slammed into Bryce. Yet a piece lingered as the warlock struggled to hold on to him. As he roared and raged in denial.

  An unparalleled power struggle ensued between Bryce and the warlock, but it didn’t last long. The warlock never stood a chance once another’s magic became involved. It screeched in pain when something suddenly shot out of Jessie a
nd ripped the last tendril free.

  Erin’s dragon magic.

  As the warlock roared again in rage, Bryce blinked several times. At first, he seemed baffled before fury filled him. Teeth clenched, he narrowed his eyes. He and the warlock were no longer connected.

  Its death would not mean his.

  Jessie felt Bryce become whole again like a bolt of energizing electricity. As it was for him, newfound strength was pouring through her. More than that, something even more profound happened. Without the strength of Bryce inside him, the warlock could no longer hold onto what else he had stolen.

  She widened her eyes in surprise when colors swirled out of the warlock and rushed into her.

  For a split second, she was a little girl facing off with her grandfather again. He was stealing her dragon, and she finally felt it. Remembered it. The horrible sensation of losing such an important piece of herself. The rage and pain and sadness her little dragon felt. The emptiness they both experienced as they lost each other. Though a small piece of her inner beast’s magic had remained, it was nothing compared to what she felt now.

  Nothing could touch the glory of her dragon returning to her.

  All became very clear at that point. When her dragon was stolen, the enemy had not only erased her memory of it but put up an extra barrier between her and her true identity. He had cast a spell that made her fear things dragons should love. Hence her fear of anything that took her off the ground.

  If that wasn’t enough, he had given the warlock added power over her.

  Not only was she drawn to the piece of Bryce within it but her own dragon. That was why she remembered walking into the warlock’s arms but never knew what happened next. Because there was nothing beyond that but darkness. The warlock, no matter how much he wanted to, was incapable of returning a love that never belonged to him, to begin with. And he would never reveal her dragon, his greatest weapon against her. So it would always just be a dream she awoke from, none the wiser.