by Donna Grant
Highland Fires
By
Donna Grant
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.
Highland Fires
Copyright© 2008 Donna Grant
Cover Artist: Tricia Schmitt
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Chapter One
Isle off the cost of west Scotland
Summer 1629
Lugus stood atop the small cliff on his isle and watched the sun crest the horizon, its bright orange glow streaking across the gray sky. It was a daily ritual, one he had done from the moment his mortality had begun.
In the nearly five years since he did the unthinkable and nearly destroyed Earth and the Realm of the Fae, he had pushed his past life and the horrors he committed from his mind.
But there was one thing he couldn’t push away.
The memory of Moira.
A Druid priestess who had powers granted to her by the Fae, a woman so incredibly beautiful that Lugus would have done anything to claim her as his own. Despite his great love for her, he was not her mate. Even when he discovered this, he refused to give her up. It wasn’t until she sacrificed herself for her mate that Lugus saw what true love was.
That was the day his new life, a life of mortality, had begun.
He inhaled the sea air deeply and stretched his arms over his head before he turned and faced the village across the sea. His ventures to the small village were as rare as he could make them.
Somehow the people there knew he wasn’t a mere mortal, that he used to be something more. The ones that did speak to him weren’t what he would call friendly, but they were civil. He had learned who those people were and made sure to only trade with them.
His gaze moved to his small boat that sat waiting for him. He blew out a reluctant breath and started down the slope. The sooner he left, the sooner he could return to his haven, the only place he felt he could be himself.
Lugus chuckled to himself as he climbed in the boat and set the oars to rowing. If only the people that used to fear him could see him now. He once held the power of two realms in his hands, a power so great that he could have ruled all the realms. Yet now he was hesitant to face a small village of people and their whispers and glances behind his back.
Sweat beaded his brow and rolled between his shoulders when he finally reached the shore. For long moments he stared at his small island, his home and refuge. Some nagging feeling told him to return immediately and not venture into the village, that if he walked onto the Scottish shore his life would be forever changed.
As a Fae he would have known immediately what the threat to him was, but as a mortal he was still learning to discern the strange, and sometimes unwanted, intuitions that assaulted him. He debated with himself for several heartbeats, but the hunger in his belly ruled the day.
His hands immediately went to the sword at his back and the dagger at his waist. Just knowing he was prepared helped him face whatever lay ahead. He flexed his hands before he jumped from his boat to pull it onto shore and tie it off. Regardless of what his senses told him, he had to get more supplies. Eating wasn’t an option.
He kept his eyes forward as he walked to the village. A group of children stopped their play and whispered among themselves as he passed. Lugus should have been immune to his treatment but each time it occurred, it hurt worse than the last. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed the people that gave him a wide berth, and others that would stare after him as if he was some monster.
And he was, in more ways than they realized.
He reached the millers and went inside to purchase more yeast and what few herbs he wasn’t able to grow in his small garden. Learning to cook had been something he had enjoyed and he found he had a knack for it.
After he paid for his purchases, he tucked the package under his arm and headed for his next stop. Jonathon Frasier’s cottage. Jonathon was one person that actually treated Lugus like a man.
He had come upon Jonathon during a particularly vengeful storm that had tossed many boats onto shore. Jonathon had been desperately trying to tie up his small skiff as his pregnant wife and small son looked on.
Lugus lent a hand and they got the skiff tied. Since that time, Jonathon had gone out of his way to befriend Lugus. Now, Jonathon, an expert hunter, supplied Lugus with leather. Lugus then turned them into scabbards for the swords and daggers Lugus crafted.
“Morn’, Lugus,” Jonathon called as he walked from his cottage on the outskirts of the small village. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
Lugus shrugged. “I’ve had an order placed for a sword and thought I would get to work on the scabbard while I finish a few smaller pieces.”
Jonathon smiled as his gaze moved to the scabbard on Lugus’ hip. “’Tis no wonder word has spread far and wide of your craftsmanship. I’ve never seen anything of the like before.”
Of their own accord, Lugus’ eyes looked at the intricately designed scabbard. The many hours it took to do the scroll work on the leather was relaxing in the same way working the metal for the swords was exhilarating.
“I do what I must to earn a living.”
Jonathon nodded his head. “I ken. Come,” he said and motioned toward the back of the house. “I think I might have something for you.”
It was just an hour later that Lugus had paid Jonathon and chosen the strips of leather. They would work perfectly, and he was anxious to return to his island and begin designing the scroll and knot work that would be tooled onto it.
He had to stop himself from running to his boat. The time he spent away from his island was like a noose around his neck. He never felt safe unless he was on his isle.
With gentle hands, he placed the leather and other supplies in the boat, untied it and pushed it into the water. He jumped in and took the oars in his hands and immediately began rowing toward his island.
The sensation began instantly.
He was being watched. But by who?
~ ~ ~
Ahryn drank up the site of the mysterious man. She had seen glimpses of him before, but today she had heard something that gave her hope. Something her captor would never want her to know.
Something that could very well free her.
Lugus.
In all her years of living, there had only been one man with that name, a man who wasn’t a man at all, but a Fae. As she watched the muscles in his arms bunch and strain as he rowed to his small island, she knew he was her last chance at returning home.
Her hand fisted in her skirts, and she felt the coolness of the chain on her right hand. She pulled her gaze away from Lugus and looked at the offending slave bracelet on her wrist and the chains that ran to her middle finger that attached to the ring.
The baron thought it rather humorous to fasten it on her, branding her a slave to all who saw. But soon it would all end.
“See something you fancy?” Marcus MacGregor asked as he walked up behind her.
Ahryn gritted her teeth and turned to face her captore. “I was just picturing you drowning.”
He laughed and roughly took her arm in his hand as he pulled her af
ter him to his awaiting horse. He mounted and hauled her up before him.
“Once you have a taste of me, you won’t want me killed,” he whispered in her ear.
Ahryn swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. “I will never marry you.”
He laughed and picked up a strand of her flaxen hair. “You will if you want to live.”
Just before he kicked the horse, Ahryn chanced one more glance at Lugus. He had reached his island and pulled his boat to shore. Even from that great distance, Ahryn could tell his gaze searched for something across the sea.
Could he feel her gaze? Did he sense her need?
Chapter Two
Lugus woke and stretched his neck as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The many long hours he had spent on the design of the scabbard had put a crick in his neck. Yet, no matter how long he had worked he couldn’t shake the feeling someone had been watching him yesterday.
Even in sleep, the feeling had haunted him. In between dreams of Druid green eyes he had seen mystical blue eyes--eyes of the Fae. And the only reason for a Fae to watch him was that the time had finally come. He shook his head to clear it and rose from his bed.
He needed some fresh air. Without bothering to reach for a tunic, he headed outside to watch the sunrise from his cliff.
The mist rolled over the sea onto his isle covering his small cottage in its thickness. Lugus stopped at his door and inhaled the crisp air as he closed his eyes. Scotland wasn’t the Realm of the Fae, but it was a close second. The wild, untamed beauty of the rugged land pulled at Lugus’ soul the same way the splendor, peacefulness, and grandeur of the Fae realm had.
He opened his eyes and peered into the thick undulating mist. The lap of the water could be heard but naught else. Some might think the mist eerie and almost evil, but Lugus loved it.
The first rays of light could be seen through the mist, and Lugus turned to make his assent to the cliff. The sea air filled his lungs as he began to climb. He had climbed nearly half way up when something stopped him. The same feeling that had assaulted him the day before surrounded him now.
Apprehension snaked down his spine. Could it be that someone had finally come to meet out justice? Lugus hoped so. For nearly five years he had waited for someone to come and end his life. Only then would he feel as though he had paid for his crimes.
His steps quickened as he raced to the top to see who had come to kill him. With his breathing labored and the mist clinging to him, he raised his eyes to see a woman standing atop his cliff.
The sea wind blew her long, flaxen hair off her shoulders, and her dark skirts billowed behind her. Slowly, she turned to face him, and he saw her eyes.
Mystical blue eyes.
Fae eyes.
Her face was flawless of any blemish. The ethereal glow of her milky skin seemed to burn in the dawning sun’s light. She wasn’t gowned in the clothes of the Fae, but rather in that of the townspeople across the sea. Yet, even in the dark red of her gown, he knew her body would be lithe and tall as all Fae women.
Lugus hadn’t expected a female to come and kill him, but he wouldn’t stop her. He had to pay for his crimes.
“I’ve come for your help,” she said, braking into his thoughts.
Lugus blinked, not sure he heard her correctly. “Help? From who?”
“Them,” she said and pointed.
Lugus followed her finger and saw the four men that stepped onto his shore. Anger rolled within him. No one came ashore to his island. No one.
He began his descent, rarely taking his eyes off the men. By the time he reached the bottom, the men still hadn’t ventured far from their boat. The mist hampered their vision, but it would give Lugus the advantage he needed to dispatch the men and then figure out just what a Fae female was doing on his isle.
Briefly he thought about retrieving his sword but decided against it as one of the soldiers spotted him.
“Where is she?” the soldier demanded.
Lugus planted his feet as he reached the shore and stared at the four men. “No one is allowed on my island. Leave now. Or die.”
“Not without the woman.”
Lugus flexed his hands and prepared to be rushed by the four men. They came at him instantaneously. One punch landed in his kidney, another on his jaw and another in his stomach. He might be mortal, but his Fae training would never leave him.
He captured a leg between his and squeezed. As he spotted another blow coming at his face, he ducked and smiled as the meaty fist landed on the face of another solider. With his elbows, fist and head, he managed to knock two of them unconscious. The other he had captured with his leg was now beating his back. With all the momentum he could muster, Lugus threw back his elbow and connected with the soldier’s face. He watched in satisfaction as the man slumped to the ground.
Lugus then turned his attention to the last remaining soldier. “Get off my island.”
“I can’t,” he said. “I must return with the woman or he will kill me.”
Lugus waved away his words. “I don’t care about the woman. This isle is mine, and no one is allowed on it. If you don’t want to die, I would suggest you take your men and leave. Now.”
The soldier looked from his men to Lugus.
“I won’t repeat my offer,” Lugus said.
It took only a moment before the soldier jerked into action and began hauling his fallen men into the boat. Lugus didn’t move until the boat had rowed out to the sea. He sighed and winced as the pain from the beating began to push it’s way into his mind now that there wasn’t a threat.
A ray of sun slanted across his arm. He silently cursed not seeing the sun rise over the horizon. And that’s when he remembered the Fae. He turned and raised his gaze to the cliff that hovered over his cottage to see her staring down at him.
It had been so long since he had seen a Fae that she held him spellbound. He had forgotten just how stunning all Fae were. And how had he forgotten the mystical and sensual essence that flowed from them and around them? He had taken it for granted when he was a Fae.
He waited as she slowly made her way down from the cliff. She moved with the grace of a feline and the sensuality of a woman who could bring a man the most exquisite pleasure imaginable. With great effort he refused to allow his body to respond to the call of a Fae, though he knew it wasn’t the woman, but the essence that called to him. It was difficult considering the last woman he had kissed had been Moira.
Pleasure wasn’t something he permitted himself to feel. Not after what he had done.
“Get it over with,” he said when the Fae reached him.
Her head cocked to the side as she regarded him, her mystical blue eyes never wavering. “What exactly am I supposed to do?”
“Did you not come here to kill me?”
She shook her head. “I told you. I’m here so you can help me.”
Lugus looked at the sea. The boat was now on the shore of Scotland. “I don’t want anyone on my island.” He returned his gaze to her. “You need to leave now.”
“I cannot.”
He ran a hand down his face. “You are Fae. You can, and will, leave. Unless you’re here to kill me, I have no use for you.”
Now that his morning has been ruined, he pivoted and entered his cottage to try and gather his thoughts before he started work on the sword and sheath.
~ ~ ~
Ahryn stared after Lugus. She hadn’t known what to expect from him, but once she had seen him fight the soldiers, she knew he was the only man who could truly help her. The memory of his flashing blue eyes when he saw her brought a smile to her face.
Mortal he may be, but the royalty that flowed in his veins was still there. But would it be enough to convince him of her cause?
She took a deep breath and entered the small cottage. It was larger inside than she would have guessed. It was clean and everything put away except for a table where he sat staring at a piece of leather before him. She had seen his work. The craftsmanship of th
e weapons and sheaths amazed even her.
His eyes were closed, and she took that time to really study him. He had features of the Fae--an angular face, strong jaw, tall, lean but muscular and the flaxen hair.
Lugus’s hair was a shade darker than most Fae’s, but that was a sign of the royal house. His thick hair hung down the middle of his back with tiny braids near his temple--another sign of the Fae.
He sat bare-chested before his table. Even now she could see the dark bruises where the soldiers had struck him. There was a cut over his right eye, and the knuckles on his right hand were bleeding. That’s when she noticed the markings on his hands and forearms, ancient tattoos with hidden meanings.
Ahryn longed to tend to him, but Lugus was a proud man and wouldn’t take kindly to her intrusion, although, with her situation she really didn’t have much choice.
“Shall I tend to your cuts?” she asked softly.
His entire body jerked before he swung his head around to her. “Do you always go where you aren’t welcome?”
Her ire prickled at his comment, but she bit her tongue and refused to take the bait. “I do not, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”
He threw back his head and laughed, the sound not at all friendly. “I find that humorous when a Fae can venture any where they want. You no more need my help than the sun does in climbing the sky.”
Ahryn knew it was time she showed him her secret. She withdrew her right hand from the folds of her skirts and held it in front of her.
His eyes lowered to her hand. “It’s an ancient Celtic slave bracelet.”
“Very good.” She tried, but failed, to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “However, it is not just any Celtic slave bracelet. It was made specifically to capture a Fae.”
Lugus’ blue eyes narrowed as he swung around on his stool to face her. “I’ve never heard of such.”
