Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5)

by Sky Purington

  “Nay,” Torra repeated when Leslie continue to stare at her.

  Leslie’s lips twisted before she at last shrugged. “Suit yourself. I might be brave but I’ve seen you in dragon form and sorry but I won’t be pushing you down to prove my point.”

  Torra would not be baited. “Forcing someone to do something isnae a good idea anyways.”

  Holding the dress up that Torra would be wearing, Leslie again shrugged. “Yep, totally agree.”

  If anything, Torra figured that despite her assurance otherwise, this Broun would shove her onto the bed and force her to relax. But instead, Leslie fidgeted with the material, a sour look on her face. “Not going to say it again. Real big men out there that have all sorts of ideas about how you treated them.” Leslie lowered her chin and eyed Torra. “Right here, right now, is a reprieve before all that crap and trust me, it’ll be a boat load.”

  Torra sunk onto the cot, shaken but feeling less so by the moment. Leslie was right. Colin and Valan were mad, furious most likely. And now she’d been given a reprieve. Besides, what good could she do while they were both so angry? Little. Nothing really. Yet…should she not be out there explaining herself? Before Leslie had appeared she made it seem as though she was only with Colin because Valan loved another.

  “Overthinking,” Leslie chimed in a low voice but said nothing more.

  Disarmed by a virtual stranger giving her advice, Torra sat up straighter. Though she meant naught to say harmful words, she did. “What qualifies you to offer wisdom in such?”

  Leslie sighed and set aside the material as she looked at Torra. “Because I understand how confusing love can be. I totally get how you think you can completely love one guy then another comes along that makes you question things.”

  Torra frowned. “Question things?”

  “Hell yeah.” Leslie’s face was uncharacteristically compassionate. “I might be wrong, but from my vantage point you’ve lived a pretty sheltered life, mainly because you had no choice being half dragon and all.” The Broun’s lips pinched together. “Yet the way I see it you’re just a woman inside all that dragon and damn that has to suck, sweetie.”

  When Torra frowned, Leslie sat next to her and knocked shoulders. “In a really kick-ass sorta way.”

  “There is nothing kick arse about it,” Torra murmured.

  This lass needed to leave.

  When Torra went to stand, Leslie took her hand and pulled her back down, shaking her head. “Sorry, I haven’t been making much sense. Let’s rewind.” The Broun breathed deeply, eyes averted. “When I fell in love with your brother, Bradon, I was still hung up on another guy.”

  This got her attention. Torra paused, listening.

  “The thing was the guy I thought I loved had passed away. When that happened I didn’t think,” Leslie shook her head, eyes pained, “No, I know I didn’t want to love another. I didn’t want to let Patrick go. But talking to Bradon…knowing him, somehow made a difference.”

  Leslie squeezed her hand. “While our circumstances are far different they might not be entirely. There was a moment with your brother when I realized that I loved him far more deeply than my ex.” Leslie’s eyes met hers. “It was true love. And though I’d loved before it wasn’t nearly the same as what I found with Bradon.”

  Caught off guard, Torra shook her head. “I never loved Valan.”

  Leslie’s expression flattened and her pale green eyes were nothing less than direct. “Pretty sure you did at least a little bit. If not,” she gestured to the room beyond, “all this wouldn’t be happening aye?”

  Appalled at Leslie’s insinuation, Torra continued to shake her head.

  But the lass wasn’t backing down. “Valan’s hot as heck by any woman’s standards so the physical attraction is unavoidable,” Leslie informed, voice matter-of-fact. “And trust me I don’t say that lightly considering his douche of a father, Keir Hamilton.”’

  “Not to mention.” Leslie held up a finger to halt Torra’s response. “You met him during what had to be your first time beyond MacLomain walls since you were a kid which meant Valan was the first real person you’d talked to in.” Leslie ticked off her fingers and looked at Torra. “What, like five years?”

  Torra tried to get a word in edgewise, but Leslie continued. “What you need to realize is that love can have varying depths. From the love of a friendship to something far deeper. Colin affected you as profoundly as Bradon did me but what we share doesn’t erase or dispel what existed between me and Patrick. In fact, it was your brother who helped me better understand it.”

  That didn’t surprise her in the least. Bradon might’ve always enjoyed the lasses a wee bit too much, but he had a truly kind soul. She gave him much credit for urging Leslie to not abandon the love she’d had for another but to simply recognize it as different. Growing less irritated with Leslie, she said, “I dinnae think Colin would like hearing that I had any feelings for Valan at all.”

  Leslie narrowed her eyes in consideration. “I’m not so sure you’re right about that. Though granted it’s going to take me awhile to warm to Colin MacLeod, I’ve been pretty impressed by him since we arrived here.”

  Torra eyed Leslie. “Why, because he worked with you to defeat Iosbail in a fight?”

  “Well, that didn’t hurt any.” Leslie chuckled but shook her head. “But no, that’s not the reason. Setting aside the fact he defected from his clan for four years to keep you safe, I see the way he looks at and treats you. Despite what you might think, he’s no fool. I’d bet anything he knows you loved Valan differently than you love him and no doubt knew it before he went to the Hamiltons. But that didn’t stop him, did it? Think about that.”

  She had, for far too long. Yet the guilt never went away and she shook her head. “‘Tis in the past now.”

  Leslie cocked a brow. “Not based on what I just saw. Something tells me you seriously need to clear the air with them both. Besides lessening the friction between them, it might also help lessen the mental weight you still carry.”

  Mayhap she was right. Nay, she was definitely right. But how to go about that? With a heavy sigh, she nodded. Then, more than ready to take Leslie’s previous advice, she flopped back on the cot and flung her arms over her head.

  “There ya go!” Leslie grinned. “Doesn’t feel too bad, does it?”

  Actually, it didn’t. Not at all. Taking a few deep breaths, she lay there for several long moments. Her new sister-by-marriage had the right of it. Now she somehow had to tell Valan and Colin where she stood. Because while she was very much in love with Colin, there had been feelings betwixt her and Valan. A different sort of love altogether. And though she’d tried to deny it, hearing of Valan’s love for another lass had hurt.

  Feeling far better, or at least far more honest with herself than she had before, she sat up and took the dress from Leslie. “Many thanks, lass…on several counts.”

  “Anytime,” Leslie said.

  As Torra crawled into the dress, she suddenly felt a little embarrassed. Here she was with the powerful blood of a dragon running through her veins and more magic than most, yet when it came to matters of the heart, she knew less than nothing.

  “No need to be embarrassed. You’re half human and like the rest of us, have to learn as you go.” Leslie put a few fingers to her forehead and flinched. “Sorry, my empathic abilities are really growing. I didn’t mean to intrude on your emotions.”

  Torra quickly plaited her hair into a braid and tied it off with a swath of plaid. “No need to apologize. It seems as I am to learn more about myself as a lass, you are to learn more about yourself as a witch, aye?”

  Where Torra had at first wondered about Bradon’s attraction to Leslie, she now better understood. It seemed there was more to the lass than a pretty face. Though she might be overly blunt, there was not only a kindness but a fire of the spirit in her that would likely always keep Bradon enamored.

  When they exited, Torra was startled to realize Colin, Valan a
nd Iosbail had already left. Only Malcolm waited outside. He shook his head at Torra. “Well, you’ve got them stirred up good you do.”

  “Aye,” she murmured as they headed up the woodland path toward the castle. Yet she couldn’t help but be disappointed that Colin hadn’t waited for her.

  “Dinnae look so down, lass,” Malcolm said. “‘Twas upon Iosbail’s order that they went. She’s eager for new blood in her gaming.”

  “Wasn’t there enough of it last night?” Leslie said.

  “It seems not.” Malcolm shrugged. “Besides, I’d say she meant to put the bad blood between the two to the test once more.”

  Torra wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “More swordplay?”

  “At the verra least.”

  Though worried about Colin, Torra couldn’t help but notice Malcolm’s unpleasant disposition. Though it was clear he enjoyed spending time with Grant, he missed Cadence and she couldn’t much blame him.

  Which, of course, turned Torra’s mind to task. She needed to speak with Iosbail.

  “Och, ‘twas as I suspected,” Malcolm said as they rounded the castle.

  This time Grant was clashing swords with Valan. Meantime, the MacLeod was watching with both a critical eye and an obvious hunger to be fighting as well.

  “How are things betwixt you and Iosbail?” Torra asked Leslie, thinking of the battle the eve before.

  “Better than I would’ve expected,” Leslie replied. “Though I haven’t had a chance to chat with her since we fought. Still, I get the sense that she’s good with me.”

  Torra nodded, glad to hear it.

  Colin’s eyes locked on her as they approached. Leslie looked at Malcolm. “What say we go shoot some arrows? I’ve yet to learn how to do that. Besides, I see Sheila over there.”

  “Nay, I want to watch the fighting.”

  “And I wish to shoot some arrows.” She shot him a look and arched her brows.

  When he frowned, she looked skyward, exasperated. “Let’s give Torra some privacy.”

  Malcolm cast an eye to Torra. “Is that what you wish for, lass?”

  “Aye, if you wouldnae mind, cousin.”

  Malcolm muttered under his breath but soon took Leslie’s elbow and steered her toward the archery. Colin, clearly agitated, turned his attention to the men fighting and didn’t bother to look her way as she joined him.

  “We need to talk,” she said, thankful that her voice sounded strong because her heart was flipping about.

  Colin gave no response for a long stretch before he finally said, “Did I ever tell you that ‘twas Valan who helped me become the great warrior I am today.”

  Torra shook her head, voice soft. “Nay, you didnae.”

  “I should have,” he murmured, eyes on the heavy clang of swords. “I should have talked about our friendship sooner. How he helped me to better ken what my Da expected of me as next in line to be chieftain. Before I met Valan, I thought my Da a tyrant. Little did I realize that he only sought to make me a stronger warrior, a better leader, but always did he love me.” Colin shook his head, staring without seeing the battling. “Valan shared much about Keir Hamilton and what life was like with such a Da.”

  Pain tightened her chest. They’d never much talked about their individual time with Valan and now she realized the mistake in that. So, though difficult, she said, “Aye, he shared as much with me as well.”

  So it was that she got a good idea of what Keir Hamilton was like before he ever pursued her. Or so she thought. And while Keir had likely manipulated them all from the beginning a harsh wave of renewed anger blew through her that Valan all but handed her over to his Da.

  “I’ll fight ye now Grant MacLomain,” Iosbail declared though there was yet a victor between him and Valan.

  Opportunity had been presented.

  Torra knew what she had to do.

  What she’d wanted to do for a very long time.

  “I need a sword,” she said loud enough for all to hear. “I wish to fight Valan.”

  “Nay!” Grant and Colin said at the same time.

  Iosbail, a knowing grin on her face, eyed Torra. “What know ye of swordplay Nathair sgiathach?”

  Torra knew Iosbail called her dragon to provoke her. So be it. “Enough.”

  And she did. Between ten and twelve winters of age, she’d frequently search out not only her brothers but Malcolm to work with her. Then after, even though in seclusion, she would practice in her chamber. It had often helped her deal with raging emotions.

  “It is about time,” King Naðr said into her mind. “Be fearless.”

  “Stay aware,” King Erc added.

  She never quite knew when they would pipe up but had to admit it was good to have them here now. Though Naðr would obviously cheer her on it became blatantly clear Colin and Grant would not.

  “‘Tis foolhardy this,” Colin ground out as Iosbail handed her a sword.

  Torra tested the weight of the blade, purposefully turning her attention to Valan. Meantime, the Hamilton remained silent, his expression perplexed as he watched her.

  “I will fight you,” Grant said to Iosbail. “After they fight.”

  “Nay.” Iosbail shook her head. “Ye will fight me now and ye willnae stop until I say so.”

  Though Grant narrowed his eyes, he nodded. Smart. They dared not upset their hostess.

  Adjusting to the feel of the blade, Torra swung it a few times, her eyes taking in everything. A light drizzle had resumed. The grass would be slick underfoot. Valan and Grant had yet to remove their tunics so they’d not been battling long. This meant Valan was merely warmed up, his muscles loose and ready for easy movement. Torra by no means thought she would defeat him but was eager for battle nonetheless.

  “Call on your dragon blood,” Naðr urged and she swore she heard battle lust in his voice.

  Iosbail and Grant’s blades met as they began fighting.

  Torra tuned out everything but Valan as they slowly circled one another.

  “Why are you doing this, lass,” he said softly.

  Torra gave no answer but stopped circling and held her sword high. Valan, in turn, did the same. Keeping a careful balance between her feet, she thrust. The Hamilton met her blade and she thrilled at the vibration ringing through her body. Yet she knew he held back. But she had expected as much.

  So she came at him fast and used her small size to her advantage. Though he clearly hadn’t expected her rapid attack, Valan adjusted quickly and soon smoothly counterthrust her every move.

  “I never loved her as I loved you,” Valan said, circling away from Torra only to meet her blade once more.

  Torra frowned. “It was never that you loved another but that you didnae speak of her.”

  Bloody hell. Were her issues with Valan not the same as those Colin had with her? They had all kept secrets that should have been shared from the start. Their blades crashed together but still he held back.

  “Would it have made a difference had I told you?” he said.

  Sweat broke out as she thrust the blade faster and muttered, “Nay.”

  Valan came back at her, the clash of his blade harder now. “Then why this anger?”

  Yet she felt his quiet fury as he slashed fast and she barely dodged his sword. With a quick leap, she used the slick grass to her advantage and whipped around, nearly nicking his side. Breathing harder, she replied, “Because I didnae mean to hurt you and have long wondered if I deserved what you did in return.” Her pained eyes met his at the same moment as their blades. “And I cannae help but wonder if you’ve since regretted your actions.”

  Valan pushed and she staggered under the might of his blade. The tumultuous clouds overhead roiled within his near black eyes as he glared. Deep voice full of emotion, he swung hard and ground out, “And too often have I wondered the same about your actions.”

  Torra stumbled back and fell on her arse.

  “Call on your dragon,” Naðr again urged.

  Val
an stood over her, blade poised, eyes enraged, body shaking as his brogue thickened. “Did ye then, lass?”

  “Nay, lad,” Iosbail said when Colin nearly interceded.

  Wasting no time, Torra lurched to her feet and thrust, reply vehement. “Never that I loved Colin but always that I hurt you.”

  Clash. Clash. Clash.

  Torra might be weakening fast, but she fought him regardless. Yet she did not fight just his sword. She fought all the things that had gone wrong betwixt them, his unthinkable betrayal as well as hers. The truth was had she not fallen so deeply in love with Colin MacLeod none of this might have happened.

  But she would not take back her feelings even if she could.

  As sweat trickled down her neck, Torra once more circled Valan. “You have not answered my question.”

  Emotions warred on his face, but something new settled in his eyes. Or mayhap it had been there all along. Valan shook his head and made to speak then stopped. His brows snapped together and his lips pulled down.

  “Well then?” Torra thrust.

  He met her blade so violently her teeth chattered. Again, she fell back a few steps as he stalked her, eyes crazed. If she’d not met Colin MacLeod, she would have thought Valan Hamilton the most ferocious warrior to exist. That said much having grown up with her MacLomain kin who were by no means meek men.

  “If I could undo what I did I would in an instant,” Valan growled, eyes not compassionate but borderline dangerous. “And have had to live with my actions since.”

  Before she could speak, his voice turned gravely, incredibly impassioned. “Do ye think I liked becoming the monster my Da is?”

  Now when he swung his blade she knew it was not her, he attacked but the corrupt, evil man who had raised him. Though the Viking king wanted her to embrace the dragon she would not do so against Valan. He didn’t deserve it. Not to mention, she had no idea what might happen if she did save that it would not be good for the Hamilton…or possibly anyone in the immediate vicinity.

  But what Valan came at her with now was fueled by too many years of seasoned warrior and Torra knew bloody well she didn’t stand a chance. Still she fought, determined not to give up. Faces flashed in her vision as she twirled, thrust and saw the circle now formed around them. Bradon, Sheila, Leslie, Grant, and Malcolm. They were all there.