Clash. Clash. Clash.
Arms nearly numb, body shaking, Torra refused to give up as Valan drove forward in his relentless pursuit to defeat dark memories. Her vision blurred as fury ravaged his features and he sliced down hard. This was it. This was her end. And did she not in some small way deserve it?
But within inches of her face, another blade intercepted Valan’s.
Colin’s words were low and lethal. “Nay lad, ye’ll not defeat memories of your Da by killing my lass.”
“Nay,” Valan ground out, angry eyes shooting to Colin. “But another memory altogether, aye?”
Rain had started to fall more steadily and Torra slid as she scrambled to her feet.
All she could think of as she watched Colin and Valan fight was a memory better forgotten. It was a moment in time between her, Valan and Colin that had far-reaching repercussions.
As it did now, it rained that day so long ago at the Highland Defiance…
“‘Tis poor weather this,” Valan muttered, running a hand through his wet hair as he eyed her.
Torra sat, stiff-backed, beneath the eave of the stables. Nervous, she could only nod. She kept warring between guilt and anger as she watched him. Guilt because this was the first time she’d seen him since meeting Colin. Anger because she was still hurt by what he’d said when last he saw her. Though, truthfully, she had no right to be angry in the least considering her actions.
But Valan, despite his upbringing, had always had an easy way about him so she was not particularly surprised when he offered a loose grin and sat next to her.
“How fares your lass?” she said caustically, irritated with herself the moment the words slipped out.
Valan’s eyes met hers, roughly strewn with emotion.
“She’s ready to marry me,” he said honestly.
“And are ye of the same mind?”
Why couldn’t she just be happy for him? Why couldn’t she just seize this moment to tell him of Colin? Torra frowned. She knew bloody well why.
Pride.
Hers.
Hesitating, he stared into the courtyard for a long moment before his eyes swung her way, softening. Instead of answering her question he said, “It has been too long. How do ye fare, lass?”
Torra twisted a bit of hay between her fingers, not sure precisely how she should respond. Best to keep the focus on him. “Ye didnae answer my question.”
Though she was not looking at him, she felt Valan’s eyes hesitate on her face before he finally murmured, “I love her more than I thought I would. ‘Tis a pre-arranged marriage that will strengthen my clan.”
Nodding, she felt not frustration but a wave of unexpected relief. Though she’d gone back and forth about her feelings in regards to this, all had vanished when she met Colin. Though unburdened by his words, Torra remained under the weight of what she must share.
“Why the sadness on your face, lass?” Valan said softly. “Ye said when last we met ye’d ken all this.”
And thank the gods she had. Yet still, why did he come back here to see her? Torra knew. They both did. A bond of sorts had formed between them and it hurt more than she expected to let it go. Or at least it had.
Torra was about to respond when the last person she expected appeared in the courtyard. Drenched, silver eyes narrowed, Colin MacLeod breathed heavily as he stared at them through what had become a heavy rainfall.
Valan’s brows perked and a grin itched at his face before confusion settled over his features. Obviously unclear why Colin was there, he walked over and clasped him on the shoulder. “How are ye here, my friend?” He shook his head slowly. “I dinnae ken.”
Colin ground his jaw in distress, eyes never leaving Valan’s. “I am here for Torra.”
The Hamilton’s head pulled back a fraction and his lips twitched as though he thought there was a jest to be had. Thoroughly confused he said, “Who?”
Colin’s eyes moved beyond deep emotion then dulled, his gaze never leaving Valan’s and his declaration clear. “I am here for Torra MacLomain.”
She recognized the look in Colin’s eyes, had seen it many times before in her brethren’s. It was the look of a man getting ready to battle.
Valan looked at Colin for a long moment before his eyes turned her way. The Hamilton’s astounded, hurt gaze met hers and he again said, “I dinnae ken.”
Torra almost averted her gaze but knew she could not. Colin, for whatever reason, had returned, which said so much. He was willing to see what they had started through. And so was she. Though it took a great deal of courage, she walked over, her feet incredibly heavy. So close she could reach out and touch them, she stopped.
Rain trickled down their faces as they stared at her. Mayhap it was the guilt but she thought when this day finally came, when she stood betwixt them, that she would realize that she loved them equally.
But that was not the case.
Not even close.
Valan deserved the truth so she met his eyes and pushed gentle words past her lips. “I am so verra sorry. I didnae know Colin was your friend.” Torra closed her eyes briefly then opened them, determined to say it all. “I love him, Valan. I love him so verra much.”
Eyes watery beneath the onslaught of rain, Valan simply stared at her, expression dumbfounded before his eyes slowly swung to Colin. The Hamilton did not need to ask how Colin was here. It was clear enough. He’d been followed. Torra felt the rage flare a split second before Valan drew his blade.
But Colin was just as quick.
Torra jumped back as their swords struck.
“Nay, stop!” she cried.
And snapped back to the present.
Yet her cry that they stop was no longer directed at them in the past but here and now as they fought at the Broun castle. Except this time, an ever-thickening crowd surrounded them. The past was once more the present and as it had so long ago, rain slashed down. Lightning almost seemed to spark off their blades so fast did the MacLeod and Hamilton go at one another.
Confused, pushing aside memories, Torra quickly gathered herself and rushed after them with her sword ready. Though she was weakened by fighting with Valan, she gripped the blade with shaky hands and came alongside.
Valan’s words were directed at Colin as they fought. “Why did ye never tell me ye tried to turn Torra aside before again returning to the Defiance.”
“Because ye didnae ask,” Colin grunted, meeting a hard thrust of Valan’s sword.
“Would it have mattered?” she said, eying the battle for the opportunity to thrust her blade.
“Aye!” they both said, and drove at one another.
“Unleash the dragon and be done with this foolery,” Naðr muttered.
“I tend to agree,” King Erc said.
“Nay,” she gasped, frustrated. The battle that existed now was not about the mythological creature within but who she was as a woman. Though their swords clashed and there was nothing but driving rain betwixt them, she thought of Leslie’s advice.
Be honest about love.
So instead of bringing forth the dragon, she gathered every last ounce of physical strength she had and plunged her sword between theirs. Luckily they froze mid-thrust as her words rang out.
“Valan, you knew as well as I that our love lacked. Despite such, ‘twas real enough indeed. But what I found with Colin was something else altogether…‘twas intense and different and so verra unavoidable. I didnae mean to feel so strongly but couldnae help it. ‘Twas what it was and I wouldnae take it back.”
Torra held her blade firmly between them and met Valan’s eyes. “Tell me I was the greatest love of your life.” She breathed harshly. “Tell me that you knew it the moment you met me.” When he blinked several times, she ground out, “Tell me then and make this battling with your friend worthwhile. Because if I didnae make your heart stop and all else fade away then mayhap your fighting for nothing, aye?”
Valan breathed just as harshly, his eyes never once leaving hers, words a
strained whisper. “But I love ye, lass.”
“Aye,” she whispered and offered a nod. “And I you, my friend.” Torra bit her lower lip and shook her head, eyes pleading with his. “But was it ever a love that ‘twas meant to bind us beyond friendship?” Torra’s brows pinched together as rain trickled down her face. “Was it ever the sort to bind us through this lifetime then into the next?”
Valan made to speak, heart in his eyes, but stopped and stared at her for an excruciatingly long moment. Instead of answering, his face fell as did his blade. Legs apart, sword slowly sinking to the rain-drenched ground, his gaze remained on her. Though it seemed a fortnight passed, she knew it was only a few long moments before he finally whispered, “Nay, lass.”
Blade still aimed, Colin breathed hard as he watched Valan. The MacLeod’s eyes were pained. They had all suffered so much and none knew how to cope with all the wrongs done. Torra supposed as the rain pelted down and she lowered both her head and blade that even if they could turn back time it would have always gone as it did.
Determined not to be a coward, to be everything King Naðr would expect, she raised her eyes to Valan and softly said, “Dinnae think for a moment that I stopped loving you…” She looked at him with the love of a good friend. “In the way that I do.”
Before he could speak, she shook her head. What needed to be said should be done so because she truly meant it. For some reason, whether because of their past or because of this very moment, she knew it to be true. “You ruined the last four winters of mine and Colin’s lives, but I am tired of hating you for it.” She shocked even herself when she told the absolute truth. “I’ve not got it in me anymore.”
Torra looked back and forth between the men. Blades still in hand but no longer raised at one another, there was nothing but the sound of pounding rain to separate them all from deep thoughts.
Valan’s eyes stayed on her for another long moment before he finally spoke, voice just loud enough for them to hear. “I too am tired of hating.” His eyes flickered from Colin to her then back to the MacLeod, gaze narrowed. “If ‘tis nothing but the best of love ye have for my lass then have her ye shall.”
Colin showed no sign of gratefulness but renewed anger as he gripped his blade tighter. “Is that all ye have to say to me after four years of slavery beneath your Da?”
“Is she not worth it?” Valan spat, blade at the ready again.
When Torra clenched her teeth, it was almost as if Colin sensed her distress because he kept his blade down. He locked his jaw and glared at Valan beneath lowered brows. When the MacLeod spoke, his voice was so low it rumbled through her charred nerves like a soothing balm.
“Torra is worth everything,” Colin hissed through his teeth. “And ye are all the more a fool for not realizing it from the moment ye met her.”
Valan turned a smidge too complacent for her taste. “Aye, she is, isn’t she, MacLeod, being part dragon as she is?”
Torra got aggravated at that. Now Valan was just provoking. So when Colin made to thrust, she stepped in between them and put a hand on either chest.
Colin’s eyes widened. “Och, lass.”
So unbelievably done with fighting, she kept her voice firm as she looked back and forth between them. “Too long have we carried this bitterness. ‘Tis time to rise above it so that this war might see a peaceful outcome. Because even if we work together to defeat Keir ‘twill likely be unsuccessful if resentment continues to simmer.” She shook her head. “And as you both verra well know, Keir will try to exploit any ill feelings we continue to harbor toward one another.”
Though their expressions remained grim, it was clear both men were strongly considering her words. Her eyes went beyond them to Grant, who was no longer fighting Iosbail. Torra made a come-hither motion. “That means you as well, cousin.”
“Now you go too far,” Valan muttered.
“Do I?” Torra asked, eyes swinging his way. “Was Grant not as harmed by your actions as I? You two were the closest of friends before you shared all with your Da then defected from the Hamiltons.” Her voice softened as she looked at him. “And was it not Grant who showed you how you might travel through time to begin with? And for all you did to him, all he did to earn such was to shun your friendship when he learned what happened to the MacLeod who, mind you, only met him because of your own actions.”
She shook her head, sad. “How could you expect anything less from Grant after the harm you had done me?”
For a split second, Valan almost appeared startled, the flash in his eyes telling as her words sunk in. He too had fallen victim to pride and it had caused so much damage. Yet at least it seemed he was finally realizing the entirety of it.
Grant, bless him, had come over as asked. Torra lowered her hands from the men’s chests and stepped back. It was time to overcome all the oppressive emotions that had long held her back. She stood taller and made a point to lock eyes with all three men before speaking.
“We must let go of the past and focus on the future,” she declared in a firm, unrelenting voice. “Because if we dinnae then I promise you this war will be lost.” Her eyes met Valan. “You must at last set aside old anger and face your Da once more.” Her eyes then went to Grant. “If I can truly forgive, so can you, cousin. Outside of Iosbail and Adlin, no wizard is more powerful than you. Not even I. ‘Tis in your verra nature to rise above your baser emotions.”
Her gaze at last landed on Colin. “You are my greatest love in every life. I dinnae doubt it for even a moment.” She placed her hand over the tattoo on his arm, heart in her eyes. “If I could take away the pain you suffered beneath Keir’s rule I would. But I cannae.” She shook her head. “We must take strength from our hardship so that we might live a life together. And if we do so, if we move forward together, it must be with our hearts free of old pain. For our love deserves nothing less, aye?”
All stared at her, faces devoid of emotion.
Each had retracted into the void of being a warrior as they considered her words.
The crowd remained silent. Even the pattering of rain and distant rumble of thunder seemed to fade away beneath the long, tense moments. Torra did not dare breathe as she waited. This needed to work.
If she could let go so could they.
Gods, please let them heed me.
At long last Grant’s eyes slowly swung from Colin to Valan and he held out his hands to both. Torra kept her shoulders back and chin notched though she trembled inside. Praise be to the MacLomains, her cousin had made the first move.
Another brutally long moment stretched before Valan’s brows lowered a fraction and he clasped Grant’s arm, hand to elbow before he held out his other hand to Colin.
A ripple of tension drove her spine straighter as they waited. If Colin took this offering, then they would have all made a declaration that they were ready to push past their shaded history. That they were ready to stand by her side and fight Keir Hamilton as one.
Please, my love, do this for me…for us.
Though she hadn’t said the words telepathically it almost seemed he heard because his eyes went to her and once more hesitated. Then, finally, thankfully, Colin’s eyes went to the men and he clasped their arms.
Torra felt the connection instantly.
Powerful, their magic wrapped and twisted, bonding and empowering them into a formidable team. There was great fate and destiny in the unification of these three, a connection that would soon wipe away old grievances and resentments.
“Now for some dragon?” Naðr said.
Confident, a small smile met her lips. She once more placed her hand over Colin’s tattoo and closed her eyes, whispering into her mind. “Aye, now ‘tis time for some dragon.”
Watch out Keir Hamilton.
Because she knew that right here, right now, a weapon he never saw coming was being created.
Chapter Eight
Colin never thought he would see the day that he truly forgave Valan Hamilton.
B
ut it had come.
As Torra said, it needed to. When he’d locked arms with Grant and Valan, the magic fluctuating between them made it plainly clear. He felt stronger, more alive, nearly invincible. And he knew they felt the same. When Torra touched his tattoo, something shifted and changed in his outlook toward the Hamilton. As if he suddenly better understood him and the reasons behind his hurtful actions. In all honesty, he swore he felt Valan’s raw emotions as if he was inside the man.
When Torra’s gaze glowed white, Colin abruptly saw everything from Valan’s eyes, then just as quickly from Grant’s, then from Torra herself. It was by far the most profound magic he had ever experienced.
The dragon.
As he shifted from each of them, he somehow knew that they did the same. He felt Valan’s sense of betrayal when he learned of Colin and Torra. He experienced the deep pain the Hamilton felt growing up as Keir’s son and though Valan might have spoken of it, the reality was far, far worse.
Then he was in Grant’s mind, taken aback by not only the strength his friend maintained after years at the Hamiltons but how he had only grown because of it. The man beneath all the astounding magic was as admirably strong in character as he thought him. Colin arched a brow and smiled when Sheila swirled in Grant’s thoughts. Now there was a love that mirrored his own for Torra…and a lust to match.
Yet even as so many doors were opened into the minds of the men, neither affected him as profoundly as swooping through Torra’s. Having not yet spoken telepathically with her, he found the sensation exceedingly potent. As he always knew would be the case, her spirit was as bonnie as the rest of her. Stronger by the moment as she gradually embraced and learned to control the dragon.
Colin inhaled deeply as he merged more thoroughly with her. There was no feeling more humbling than that of the untouchable love she had for him…the respect. But there was more. Passion. Need. A lust so intense that he nearly fell to his knees as his groin pulled sharply.
Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5) Page 11
