Darkest Highlander

by Donna Grant

  But everything she had thought she knew of Broc was wrong.

  Sonya turned back to the fire and licked her lips. “I warned Larena that Malcolm might leave. She thought for sure he would stay.”

  “Did Malcolm ever mention where he might go?”

  “He didn’t say much of anything to anyone. Deirdre’s attack scarred more than just his body. His soul is shattered.”

  “Aye,” Broc said softly. “I know.”

  She had forgotten that Broc was the one who found Malcolm as well as the one who fought off the Warriors to save him. “You risked much in helping him.”

  “Nothing more than anyone else fighting against Deirdre. I only wish I could have gotten to Malcolm sooner.”

  It was something in his voice, some dark emotion, that made Sonya turn to him. “What did you see?”

  Broc wouldn’t look into her face. “You doona realize what it was like living in Deirdre’s mountain. She wanted the Warriors to be animals, to act like animals. That’s what I found when I saw the Warriors attacking Malcolm. They were about to rip him apart. It sickened me.”

  “But you saved him. You brought him to the castle so he could be healed.”

  Broc’s eyes lifted to hers. “I brought him to you. The only one I knew could help him.”

  FIVE

  It had been a long time since Broc had felt so at ease. He didn’t want the moment to end. Sitting with Sonya in front of the fire while he combed her hair seemed so ordinary, yet it touched a part of him he feared was long since dead.

  Broc tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear and shifted so he could inhale her scent of lavender. It had always intoxicated him, always made him yearn to be near her.

  Her scent filled his body and made him burn. His fingers tightened their hold on the comb as he fought against dragging her against him, of laying claim to her tempting lips.

  He mentally shook himself as he thought of where they were. And why.

  “Sonya, why did you leave?”

  She glanced down, hiding her amber eyes from him. “Sometimes the course we take seems the right one.”

  “You still feel as though you are on the right path?”

  Her slim shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I don’t know much of anything anymore.”

  He knew she had left because of Anice. Because he had known Anice. It was time Sonya knew the truth, the whole, ugly mess of it.

  “Do you know Ramsey and I were caught by Deirdre about the same time? His god was released first, but I soon followed.”

  “I’d heard something like that,” Sonya answered before shifting to turn toward him.

  “In Cairn Toul, you trust no one. You never know who is working with Deirdre and who is no’. Yet, somehow Ramsey and I befriended each other. In the depths of that vile mountain was forged a friendship deeper than blood.”

  Sonya’s brow furrowed as she leaned toward him. “What happened?”

  “Freedom. Ramsey had a chance at escape, and I urged him to it. Someone had to stay behind and spy on Deirdre.”

  “Why you?”

  Broc smiled wryly. “Ramsey is … special. Deirdre couldna learn everything there was to know of him.”

  “Isn’t that true of everyone?”

  “Aye, I suppose.”

  “So you stayed behind,” she urged him to continue.

  Broc thought back to that day so long ago. How freedom had been so close he could almost touch it. He had nearly given in and left with Ramsey, almost forgot everything but his own wants and needs.

  “We had discussed escaping for so long. Ramsey wanted me to go and him to stay as a spy.”

  Sonya’s head cocked to the side as she studied him. “You didn’t let him. You willingly stayed? Why?”

  “For Ramsey. For the other Warriors. For Druids and every innocent life Deirdre would snuff out without a second’s thought.”

  Broc took a deep breath and readied himself for Sonya’s reaction—whatever it might be.

  “I soon became someone Deirdre wanted near her at all times. I overheard things, learned of her intentions. I never hesitated to do the deeds, however dirty, that she sent me on.”

  Sonya’s lips pressed into a frown. “You killed people.”

  “And captured Druids.”

  Her eyes widened. “But you said you stayed behind for Druids.”

  “I stayed behind to learn all I could and relate it to Ramsey. Deirdre didna trust me for many years, and in all that time I never saw Ramsey. But I continued to listen, to watch and learn. I gathered the information I hoped would end Deirdre.”

  “Did it?”

  “In a way. You see, one day I was sent to destroy a village of Druids. I was to capture all of them and return them to Deirdre. There were twenty wyrran with me, and soon things got out of control. Fires were started, and a few Druids were killed by the wyrran in their attempts to capture the Druids.”

  Sonya turned away. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

  “You have to,” Broc said. “As I walked down the middle of the small village, I heard a child crying. I doona know what drew me to the child, but I went. I found her sitting beside a cradle that held a baby. The cottage was burning down around them, but the child wouldna leave her sister.”

  Broc paused and wound a curl of Sonya’s red hair around his finger. “I knew if the wyrran found the girls they would be brought to Deirdre. They would be raised by her and her evil, but in the end she would kill them and drain them of their magic.”

  “What did you do with them?”

  “I gathered them in my arms and flew away. I hid them with an elderly couple while I went back to the village and finished the job Deirdre had sent me to do. Then I began my search for a group of Druids who could raise the girls. It took me weeks, but in the end I finally found them.”

  Broc stopped, unsure if he could go on, but he had begun the tale. He had to finish it.

  “I left the girls with the Druids and returned as often as I could to check on them. I watched the youngest take her first steps. I watched the oldest the first time she did magic. They were happy, content. But most importantly, they were safe from Deirdre.”

  “Those girls were me and Anice?”

  “Aye.”

  “So much makes sense now,” Sonya said softly. “All those times Anice would run off into the woods as if she were looking for someone. Then the time she mentioned your name. All that time I thought Anice’s mind wasn’t there.”

  “It wasna.” Broc hadn’t wanted to tell her, but Sonya needed to know just how sick Anice had been. “The Druids knew it no’ long after I brought you to them. They said something wasna quite right with your sister.”

  Sonya raised her brow as she turned to look at him. “Did they know what you were?”

  “They suspected. They never asked. I never told.”

  “But you met my sister in the woods, didn’t you?”

  Broc rubbed his jaw, hating himself for what he had done. “Anice caught me watching you one day. I kept to myself in Cairn Toul, never speaking to anyone unless I had to. Anice was so happy, so alive that I couldna help but talk to her.”

  “You did more than that.”

  Broc searched Sonya’s amber gaze but found no compassion. Not that he expected any. “To my shame, aye. I knew as soon as it happened it was a mistake. I told Anice I couldna see her again, but she somehow knew when I would come. She was always there. I’d like to say I was strong enough to turn her away, but I’m just a man.”

  Sonya rose to her feet. When she swayed, Broc hastened to aid her, but she jerked away from him. “You let Anice believe there was a future with you.”

  “Nay, I didna.” Broc stood quickly. The flush on Sonya’s face had nothing to do with the fire and everything to do with her anger. “It had been years since I touched Anice. I would talk to her, warn her about things if I could. I never led her to believe there was any sort of future with me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Wh
y didn’t you tell me you knew Anice? And why didn’t you talk to me as you did Anice?”

  He felt as if each word were a stab in his heart. The anguish twisting her face, the shaking of her voice. All of it told him how much he had hurt her.

  “I’m sorry, Sonya. I never wanted her to know me. I feared Deirdre might someday learn what I had done and come to take both of you. The moment I took you from your village I sealed your doom.”

  “Because you saved us?”

  Broc fisted his hands as he felt his claws begin to lengthen. “Because I cared. Deirdre will use it against me. It’s what she has always done.”

  “You mean she would have.”

  “I mean she will. It’s inevitable. It’s why I’ve tried to keep you at MacLeod Castle. It’s why I worked so hard to get Anice and the Druids to the castle before it was too late. Deirdre cannot hurt Anice now, but she can get to you.”

  For the first time since he began his tale he saw Sonya’s anger waver. She now understood the precarious position he was in.

  What she didn’t know, and what he hoped to keep from her, was his attraction to her. He feared that if he gave in to the desire to touch her, to kiss her, to claim her that if Deirdre ever took Sonya, Broc would be torn apart.

  So Broc kept silent. Selfishly silent.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Broc?”

  He turned away and faced the wall. It wasn’t just his attraction he wanted kept from her. It was the curse. He was unable to look at her as his desire, his longing threatened to overwhelm him. “That is everything.”

  “So you watched me through the years?”

  “Aye.”

  “Had Anice not died, you wouldn’t have told me all of this, would you?”

  Broc shook his head.

  “You cared for her very much.”

  “Of course I did. I saved both of you. You were my responsibility. I vowed to do everything and anything to keep both of you out of Deirdre’s path.”

  Sonya moved to stand in front of him, the blanket wrapped tightly around her while her red hair curled about her face and shoulders. “I saw your face. I saw how devastated you were when you held Anice’s dead body. I heard the words you yelled at me.”

  “Words spoken out of grief. I know you cannot bring anyone back from the dead. I had no right to speak to you as I did, and I ask your forgiveness.”

  Some of the fire left her gaze. “You have it.”

  Broc gave a slight bow of his head. “As for the rest, as I’ve told you, I cared for Anice as if she had been my family. Though neither of you heard my vow to keep you safe, it was spoken. I neglected to protect her.”

  The words were truer than Broc had ever realized. He carried a heavy burden now. The soul of Anice. He just hoped Sonya could forgive him eventually.

  “Do not blame yourself,” Sonya said. “You didn’t kill my sister.”

  He saw the same guilt he carried in Sonya’s eyes. If she wouldn’t allow him to carry it, he wouldn’t allow her. “And neither did you.”

  The smile Sonya sent him didn’t reach her eyes. “Ah, but, Broc, I begged her to come to the castle. Had I heard the trees sooner, we would have been able to get them to the castle.”

  “Aye,” he said, and took her arm to guide her to the bed. The dark circles under her eyes and the way her body weaved where she stood told him she had used all of her strength. “But things didna go as they should have. We were attacked, and we all did the best we could.”

  Sonya sat on the bed and turned her face up to his. For the barest of moments he saw the trust she had once given him, trust that would never be his again.

  “Anice was a gentle soul,” Broc said. “Deirdre will no’ be able to harm her now.”

  “Aye, at least Anice is safe.”

  Broc gently pushed Sonya to the side and lifted her feet onto the bed. He ignored the bare flesh of her calf when her blanket fell open.

  He pushed aside the rush of desire that filled him from the swell of her breast as she snuggled into the bed. He ached for her touch, his soul empty and depleted.

  “You will make me return to MacLeod Castle, won’t you?”

  Broc adjusted the extra blanket around her and straightened. “Aye. Even if I hadna given you my vow, I would return you. For the sake of every living creature, Deirdre cannot be allowed to gain more Druid magic. Especially no’ yours.”

  Sonya snorted. “That will be difficult since I have no magic.”

  “You keep saying that, yet I feel it. It’s as strong as it’s always been.”

  Her eyes snapped to his. “Don’t lie to me, Broc.”

  “I’m no’. Your magic is still with you.”

  “Then why can’t I heal myself?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “That I doona have an answer for. Rest. We will talk more in the morning after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

  Broc didn’t wait for her to respond but went to stand by the window. He stood to the side so no one would be able to see him from below. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Deirdre was about to find them.

  It was that instinct which kept Broc by Sonya’s side instead of flying to MacLeod Castle. He couldn’t chance anything happening to Sonya.

  How Deirdre would know Sonya had left or where he had found her, Broc couldn’t guess. She had her evil ways he had never understood.

  Then he remembered. The peregrine falcon.

  Logan, another Warrior, was sure the falcon was a spy for Deirdre. They had all felt the magic around the bird, but Logan most of all. If it was Deirdre using the falcon, then Broc had little time to get Sonya back to MacLeod Castle.

  SIX

  Broc tried to focus on anything but Sonya. But he couldn’t get the feel of her against him out of his mind. The press of her wet, naked flesh sent need shooting straight to his cock.

  Breathing became impossible. His blood burned. Blazed. Singed.

  All for Sonya.

  The weight of her breasts had touched the back of his hand, reminding him how near he’d been, how easy it would have been to turn his hand and cup the plump mounds, to feel her nipples harden in his palms.

  The longing, the yearning had been so intense, so compelling that for a moment Broc had nearly covered Sonya’s breasts with his hands.

  There had only been the thin drying cloth between his hands and her skin. Even as he ached to touch Sonya, he knew he couldn’t. To surrender to his hunger was to give Deirdre something else to use against him, and Broc couldn’t allow that. For Sonya’s sake, he wouldn’t do that to her.

  So he had reluctantly and resentfully released Sonya to move beside the window. He pretended he couldn’t hear every soft breath that left her body, pretended he didn’t crave her warm skin against his.

  Pretended she wasn’t the only thing that could alleviate his loneliness.

  Broc didn’t know how long he stared out the window watching for signs of anything out of the ordinary. So far there was nothing, but how long could they go before trouble found them?

  Before Deirdre found them?

  Not long at all, Broc surmised. The sooner he got Sonya out of the sleepy little village, the sooner they could be traveling back to MacLeod Castle and the safety it would give her.

  You cannot force her to go.

  As much as Broc hated to admit it, he couldn’t. Sonya and Anice had been the only reasons which kept him from giving in to the evil that surrounded him while spying on Deirdre. He couldn’t stand to have Sonya’s hatred, and that’s exactly what would happen if he forced her to return.

  But what was he supposed to do? Sonya was stubborn. Once she had her mind set, he wouldn’t be able to sway her.

  He glanced over his shoulder and sucked in a breath when his gaze landed on the bare expanse of Sonya’s back. She had rolled onto her other side and the blanket had fallen from her grasp.

  Unable to keep away, Broc walked as silently as a ghost to the bed. Sonya’s mass of glorious red curls were
laid out behind her on the pillow as if straining to reach him.

  He loved to see her hair unbound. It was such a rare occasion, and he found himself reaching to touch a silken strand.

  Broc lifted a long lock to twirl about his fingers before he let it drop back into place. Ever since Sonya had come into womanhood, he’d been unable to deny the pull of her stunning body, her tantalizing mouth.

  Slowly, hesitantly, Broc let the pads of his fingers graze down her spine until he reached the blanket, which rested precariously on the enticing swell of her hip.

  It would take the smallest of tugs to remove it. Then he would be able to let his eyes feast on her creamy skin, her long, lean legs.

  Broc closed his eyes and turned away. What kind of man took advantage of a woman who trusted him?

  But you aren’t a man.

  Nay, he was a Warrior. Immortal. Powerful. He would endure alone while he watched Sonya age and die. Had the droughs known the cruelty they inflicted on the first Warriors? Had they even stopped to wonder what would happen if the gods were unbound again?

  Did no one question how a Warrior would feel as those he cared most about died while he carried on century after century?

  The silence that filled the small chamber was all the answer Broc needed. No one had cared. No one had given a second thought to the Warriors. They had been a means to an end with the Roman invasion.

  That he understood. But now—now the enemy wasn’t Rome but a drough bent on total domination. For the better part of two hundred and seventy-five years Broc had either been Deirdre’s prisoner or her minion.

  It wasn’t until he had found Sonya and her sister that he had thought about the mortals and the life he had been taken from.

  Things had grown more complicated when he’d helped the MacLeods free Quinn and return to MacLeod Castle. Every day Broc saw the love between Lucan and Cara, Fallon and Larena, Quinn and Marcail, Hayden and Isla, and now Galen and Reaghan.

  The only Warrior who didn’t have to worry about his wife aging and dying was Fallon, but that was only because Larena was a Warrior herself. The only female Warrior.