The Princess and the Laird

by C. A. Szarek

  “What’s going to happen?”

  “You can help me by thinking about the Faery Stones. Do you remember what they look like on this side?”

  “Yes.” Claire nodded.

  “Good. Close your eyes and picture them. We’ll be there in seconds.” She entwined their fingers, and the lass’ grip tensed. “Claire, breathe deep with me. It’ll help.” Alana blinked without warning her, because the longer they waited, the more anxious Duncan’s wife would get.

  Their molecules scattered on the wind, only to be carried over the colorful trees and their bodies reformed in the orange and blue grasses of the Field of Light.

  Claire went down beside her, landing on her bottom, and breaking their physical contact.

  Alana reached for her, cupping her cheeks. “Claire, are you all right?” Green eyes were hazy when they finally met hers.

  “Aye,” she croaked.

  “You must stand. We need to move.” She tugged the lass to her feet, but she swayed, so she steadied her.

  The clash of swords was the reality behind them, and one glance told Alana Fae Warriors were fighting a multitude of—humans? Were they MacLeods?

  At second glance, she didn’t think so, none of the men fighting—or the one’s staining the Field’s grasses red wore plaid—MacLeod or otherwise.

  Their clothing was rough, dark colors. Pirates? Why would her brother-by-marriage have brought human pirates with him to her realm?

  Fae Warriors hovered in the air and dove after fleeing men.

  She didn’t see any of her people dead, just humans littering the colored grasses.

  “Come, lass.” Alana took Claire’s hand, and they sprinted to the far side of the platform the Faery Stones were perched on. “I must go and turn the red glow off. It’ll cease the alarm, and no more soldiers will come. Only then can I open the gate to the Human Realm.”

  “Okay. Does it take long?”

  “Nay, but there’s no way to be invisible. The Faery Stones are warded against stealth magic.”

  “Great. So they’ll be able to see you.”

  “Aye. I must be quick. Our men and my cousin will be here to defend me if necessary.”

  Her new sister simply nodded and buried her hands on her trews’ pockets.

  Nerves—probably her own as well as Claire’s—shuddered down Alana’s back and she told herself to breathe as she looked at the dais holding their only route to freedom. “I shall wait until they arrive.”

  “They said it wouldn’t be long.”

  “Thief! Thief!” someone yelled in Fae.

  Alana whipped her head in the direction of the shouting and gasped. She slid to the edge of the platform and peeked around it.

  “What? Do they know you’re here?” Claire asked.

  “Nay.” She didn’t look at her, but she sensed—rather than saw—her sister-by-marriage join her. The chant of thief, thief, was constant now, and some of the Warriors left duels to fall in behind their shouting brethren.

  A pair of humans—a dark-haired woman, and a redheaded man—were running toward the Faery Stones, both had satchels over their shoulders.

  Fae men-at-arms gave chase.

  “What are they yelling?”

  “Thief.” She still didn’t spare Claire a glance.

  “Ah. Duncan suspected Bridei wasn’t coming home to see long lost relatives.”

  Alana smirked.

  Her sister-by-marriage quickly explained who Bridei was and why Duncan had brought pirates with him. The lass was part Fae. She’d opened the Faery Stones for her them.

  A Fae Warrior she didn’t know swooped down, grabbed the man and sped into the air. The bag slipped from the pirate’s grip, losing shiny objects as it plummeted to the colored grass.

  Claire gasped beside her when the winged soldier snapped the man’s neck.

  He slumped in the Warrior’s arms; hadn’t even had a chance to struggle. Then the soldier dropped the body to the ground.

  An anguished scream rose above the din of the fighting.

  Bridei dropped her sack of stolen goods and pointed at the Fae Warrior who’d killed the man. Wind kicked up out of nowhere.

  Alana sensed magic from the lass, but like Claire had said, she wasn’t full-blooded Fae.

  Her skirts swirled, then her dark hair, until her skin began to glow, and the Fae Warrior’s body started to contort in the air.

  He fought back, flapping his wings and throwing a ball of blue light at her, but it bounced off the golden glow around her.

  “What the hell?” Duncan’s wife muttered.

  “Her magic. It’s stronger here.” She winced as discomfort rolled over her in waves. She fought doubling over as it had a sting to it. Sweat rolled into her eyes and she swiped at it, then tightened her gut to fight off Bridei’s magic. Alana gripped the edge of the dais in front of her with both hands.

  The lass was projecting her anger and pain—probably because of the redheaded man’s death.

  “Hey, are you okay?” her new sister shouted.

  The wind was gaining whirlwind-like proportions.

  “Aye, but you might want to hold onto something.”

  * * * *

  “Something’s wrong.” Xander’s voice was strained. His hands hovered over his middle, as if in pain.

  Alex caught his brother’s eye.

  “What?” Duncan asked.

  “Magic. A huge surge. One of my brothers—a Fae Warrior—is being harmed.”

  “Alana?” Alex’s voice had an edge of panic even to his own ears.

  “Nay.” Xander’s long plait slipped over his shoulder when he shook his head.

  “Let’s hie to the Stones,” his brother ordered.

  His twin’s expression was worried—for Claire no doubt—and he couldn’t feed off that concern. Alex had to believe their wives were fine and waiting for them.

  Maybe Alana had even opened the Faery Stones. She could use her magic to defend them, too. She was clever and resourceful and would be well when the joined them. There was no other option.

  He gave Xander a onceover. He’d gone green. “Can ye fly us, Xander?”

  “Aye. Get close. We’ll go.”

  Alex threw his arms around his twin.

  Duncan made a face. “Ye need a bath.”

  “My wife dinna seem ta mind.” He smirked as Xander wrapped his arms and magic around them and rose into the air.

  “Aye, she must love ye more than I.”

  Alex chuckled.

  His brother’s mouth rippled as if he fought a smile. “Ye might be my womb-mate, but I dinna remember ye e’er smellin’ like this,” Duncan mumbled.

  “Ye dinna remember anythin’ a’tall.”

  Their banter was discarded when Xander’s face contorted with pain. His iridescent wings were pumping twice their normal rate.

  Alex gasped. “Yer gonna drop us?”

  “My power—my magic—is being sucked away.”

  “Get as close as ye can ta tha ground, we’ll roll.” Duncan said, but his expression was wrought with fear.

  Alex tried not to panic as well.

  The Fae Warrior nodded. Sweat poured from his forehead and his arms shook around them.

  “Tagether?” he asked his brother. Their gazes locked.

  Duncan nodded. “Aye. Count.”

  “One…two…”

  Before three exited his mouth, Xander hovered about six feet off the ground. He released them with a groan; he could no longer remain in the air.

  Alex tucked and rolled into the oddly colored grass. He couldn’t see his twin, but he felt Duncan beside him.

  “Xander!” The shout was Alana’s.

  Her cousin crumpled to the ground, unmoving. His wings were tight around him like a cocoon.

  They all reached the fallen winged soldier at the same time.

  The wind whipped around them, battering Alex’s clothes, and forcing him to squint against the searing air on his face.

  “I’m fine, cousin.�
�� Xander didn’t sound so as he forced words loud enough to be heard over the rushing gusts.

  “What’s happening?” Duncan asked.

  Alex gestured to his twin, and they managed to get the Warrior to his feet.

  “Riley was killed by a Fae Warrior,” Claire said. She touched her husband’s forearm. “She…kinda went tornado.”

  What’s a tornado?

  Alex didn’t voice his curiosity.

  Duncan kissed his wife’s knuckles, then helped him support Xander’s weight on the opposite side.

  “Open the Stones, mò chridhe.” He nodded to Alana and slipped his arm around the Fae Warrior’s middle.

  “I’m weak, my love.” Her voice was heavy, strained, like her cousin’s had been. “But I will try.”

  Bodies of pirates were scattered over the area, but all the winged Fae Warriors were crumpled in the colored grass, their wings wrapped around them as they writhed in obvious agony.

  The lass his brother had told him was a Fae halfling seer, and a pirate wench, was so radiant, a ball of white light, Alex couldn’t look at her.

  “Help her, Laird Alex, I’m fine,” Xander choked out.

  His gaze landed on his wife. She was having trouble ascending onto the dais. He nodded and dashed to her.

  Alex gripped Alana’s slender waist and lifted her. He carried her to the glowing crystals that looked just like the ones in the cave where they’d made love so many times, and their son had been born. Even though he usually couldn’t remember the Faery Stones—due to his wife’s spells—they were clear in his mind.

  “Closer, love. I need to touch them.”

  He swallowed but obeyed. He didn’t like the tremulous tone of her voice. “Alana?”

  She patted his arm. “I’m well, we need to hurry.”

  He held her up against him, her back to his chest as Alana started touching the glowing Stones in sequence, and the humming got louder, as well as a warm gale that seemed to slam against the seer’s winds, and threw them around the dais. He planted his feet and clung to his wife.

  The popping sounds started; the portal would be open soon.

  Alex glanced over his shoulder when the sound of tearing parchment skidded over his ears. His brother and Claire had Xander propped up between them, but they were too far from the platform. He slid one hand to Alana’s stomach to steady her and gestured to their companions.

  The bubble-orb opened and hovered as it widened and cleared, but he couldn’t see through it just yet. It was right next to the dais.

  “Hurry, Alex.” Alana was urgent, and she tugged against him, prompting him to turn them toward the magical doorway.

  He jumped to the ground with his wife in his arms.

  Freedom.

  They were almost home.

  Alana entwined their fingers when they stood in front of it, waiting for the others. She could stand on her own, but she was still too wobbly on her legs for his liking.

  Xander, Claire and Duncan were still so far away.

  Alex waved his arm wildly.

  Wind picked up speed, pushing and pulling at their bodies as they fought through it to move closer to the waiting portal.

  Buffeting air jerked Alex off his feet, but he gripped to his wife to him as they were sucked through to the Human Realm.

  He could only pray the rest of their family was right behind them.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  His family—hell, the whole clan—was grateful to have him home, and Alex was grateful to be home, in more ways than he could say.

  He’d never complain about Hamish’s scrolls ever again.

  Of course, he’d settled into being the laird in the real sense years ago. The loss of his mother and the birth of his son so close together had finally shoved him to growing up, into his rightful role, if nothing else.

  Now his wife was at his side in his realm, at Dunvegan, so he was complete.

  Alex hovered over Alana. She was in his bed. Naked and ready, in his bed. Joy rode below the surface of his skin as much as arousal.

  “Alex,” his wife whispered. “Why are you staring, my love?”

  The six months in her father’s dungeon had been worth it, for this.

  Alana, his princess, his heart, his wife, was home at Dunvegan.

  Finally.

  It didn’t matter that this wasn’t the first, the second, or even the third night she’d been in his bed, every night since they’d been home washed more wonder over him. If he was dreaming, he prayed not to wake.

  Everything was finally right in his world.

  “I love ye.” His voice broke, and he dipped down to taste her lips.

  She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back before he could get lost in the movement of their mouths, before he could deepen the kiss.

  “I love you, too. But…are you well?” She framed his face, and concern glowed in her violet eyes in the light of the fire.

  Her thumbs stroked his cheeks as she studied him, and her touch, however slight shot the need for more—for her—down his limbs, and heat settled in his already heavy groin, making his cock throb.

  He fought through desire and focused on her worry. Alex frowned. “Aye, I’m braw.” He’d lost weight and muscle when he’d been her father’s captive, but they’d been home for a fortnight, and this wasn’t the first time he’d taken her since then.

  She’d not questioned him then, why now?

  He’d been tucking into more food than he ever had, and had already put on a few pounds, although he’d probably had about a stone more to go until he was normal again.

  Alex felt better, and his brother had been working him on the fighting yard. All was well.

  “Last time…you were out of breath. It’s worrisome.”

  “Did I no’ bring ye pleasure?” he demanded.

  Alana smiled. “Of course you did.”

  He captured her mouth in answer, kissing her hard and deep until she was panting to keep up with him.

  She broke their kiss and laughed. “You’re braw, after all, my love. I shan’t question your stamina.”

  He growled and slanted his mouth over hers again, and the kiss heated his blood. He needed more. Always more with Alana.

  His wife gasped under him, and her small hands explored his shoulders and back, then she went lower, squeezing his arse.

  Alex’s skin tingled everywhere she touched him, like every time they’d been together over the course of their marriage. Always as good as the first time he’d taken her.

  Many of their couplings had been frantic joinings on the sandy floor of the cave of the Faery Stones, or even against the natural wall, but he didn’t have to hurry this time—or any time in the future.

  Alana’s here to stay.

  He parted her thighs with his knee and rubbed his cock against her sex, but he didn’t join them just yet.

  She broke away from his mouth. “Do not tease me.”

  “Why no’?” Amusement threaded his words at the regal order, and his love mock-glared up at him.

  Alana gripped his erection and stroked him. Her talented hands applied and loosened just the right amount of pressure, and she reached below to caress his heavy sac, until his arms, suspending him above her began to tremor.

  Alex groaned.

  Then her touch was gone, and he shuddered.

  “See? ‘Tis not nice, my love.” She smiled sweetly.

  He was on her in less than a second, bruising her mouth again and filling her sex with a hard jolt forward.

  Alana didn’t pause; just slid her legs around his hips and tilted her own to take him deeper. She kissed him back with the same ferocity, and kneaded his rear end for encouragement.

  They fell into a hurried rhythm, and Alex tasted every inch of her skin he could reach.

  Sweat covered them both and the fire in the hearth made him overheat, but he kept going, thrusting into her over and over, until she was screaming his name like a mantra, and her inner muscles convulsed around his co
ck.

  He pulled back only to shove forward and explode within her, his whole body shaking above her. Alex collapsed and his wife held onto him as if he’d disappear from their bed.

  When he could breathe again and his vision cleared, he tried to gently roll away, but Alana held him fast.

  “Wait. Please wait.”

  He cupped her damp cheek and caressed her pinkened skin with his thumb. Her lips were swollen and her face flushed, but his princess looked gorgeously ravished, and he’d take her again as soon as he recovered.

  Alex wasn’t even winded. Thank God. “I’m goin’ nowhere, nò chridhe. Worry no’.”

  “I don’t want to be parted from you,” she whispered. “When we are, my heart hurts.” Alana touched her chest, but his eye was drawn to the tempting bud beneath her fingers.

  It was still peaked, and he could recall her taste. He couldn’t look away, especially when her perfect breasts rose with her breath.

  “Ye will ne’er be parted from me again.”

  She flashed a brilliant smile that had his pulse tripping.

  Alex slipped from her body and pulled her into his arms. Bed coverings were crumpled at their feet, and he was still too hot to reach for them.

  They fell into a companionable silence, and he stroked the soft flesh of her shoulders and back, breathing in time with her. His heart beat with hers, too. They were completely aligned, as they should be.

  “I canna believe Duncan is wed,” he whispered sometime later.

  Alana propped herself on his chest, and he shivered as her nipples brushed his. She smiled. “I adore Claire, and am enjoying learning of the far future.”

  He too had heard some of the wondrous things his new sister-by-marriage had come from in the far future, but a part of him was leery to learn of things he had no business to know. It was against the natural order. “What of Xander, how is he?”

  His wife’s expression fell and she averted her eyes.

  A pang of guilt him, and Alex almost apologized, but her pretty eyes swung back to his face.

  “He mourns more than his wings, but he will not speak with me about it. His magic is not strong in this realm, but he can still read minds, so I’ve been blocking thoughts for him. It’s never quiet for him otherwise.”