“They are my aunt’s sons, close kin through and through.” To Hamish, he gritted out, “Do Coll and Duncan hold a fae skill?”
“Aye, the battle skill, just as you and your father do.”
“Why did the MacKenzie keep this all a secret?”
“If he’d allowed the truth to be known, then he’d have lost not only the lucrative lands he came by with his marriage to Cait MacLennan, but also would have incurred the wrath of the MacLennan chief himself. They are close allies and that bond would’ve been severed once he’d learnt the truth of the MacKenzie’s deceit.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to keep this secret as well, Kyla. That cannae have been easy.”
“Coll and Duncan might be the Chief of MacKenzie’s sons, but they are naught like him and never have been. Their hearts are loyal to their fae kind.”
“There is more,” Hamish added. “Grace has never spoken the truth for fear of Colin’s reprisal. He threatened her, said should she ever disclose the truth then he’d attack her village and slaughter one and all. Through her death-warning skill, she saw that he would do so, and through my seer ability, so have I.”
“My mama continues to remain quiet because that threat remains in place. She would have spoken up otherwise.”
“I agree. She’s a nurturer and protector, would never have allowed the death of another to occur at her hand.” Another new fierce level of respect and admiration for his mate roared through him, for Grace too. These two women had done what was best for their clan for the past two decades, and regardless of the pain it had caused them both, they’d accepted their fate. He rode on in silence, Hamish right at his side, the skies darkening further as night loomed, his own heart heaving at the loss they’d all suffered because of one man. Colin MacKenzie. In time, he’d make certain the man paid for all he’d done. He’d ensure it.
Chapter 4
Sitting in the corner blue padded chair next to the crackling fire with its bubbling pot of water, Kyla opened her eyes, her mind still deeply entrenched within Ronan’s. “I truly wish I could be there when you speak to Duncan.”
“You will be, through our connection. It still holds, even across the miles I’ve now ridden.” His deep and husky words shimmered through her mind. “Because of your skill, we’ll never be far apart.”
“Aye, you’re right. I love my skill, more so now than ever afore.” Beyond the window, an owl hooted as the dark of the night rolled in. This morning she’d begun the day so lost and alone out on the cliffs, and now she’d not only been reunited with her chosen one, but her entire future had changed, or at least she would hold the firm hope that it had.
She pushed up and plucked another log from the wood pile next to the hearth and tossed it on the fire. The flames sizzled and spread a golden-red glow throughout the chamber. She closed the shutters over the window and crossed to Gordon.
His breath continued to move with a steady flow in and out, no further blood loss dampening his bandages, although his forehead was bruised black and blue, the lump protruding high. He’d sleep without issue for what remained of the night, the belladonna ensuring that, and in the morn when he awoke, she’d examine him once more.
Assured all was well, she closed the door behind her and tramped upstairs to her room on the third floor. A maid had built a roaring fire for her, as well as closed the thick red drapes over her window overlooking the inner courtyard. She passed the crackling blaze of peat and wood, foraged for her nightgown in the trunk at the end of her four-poster bed then stepped behind her silk dressing screen hand-painted with pink and purple heather. Front stays unlaced and her gown’s bodice scrunched in her hands, she snuggled deeper within Ronan’s mind.
“Kyla, wait.” His croaky voice stayed her hands.
“Is something wrong?”
“As you can see through my eyes, so too I can see through yours.”
“I’m well aware.” With a mischievous giggle, she dropped her gown. The rich midnight-blue fabric slithered to the polished floorboards and she stepped out of the pool of velvet, scooped it up and tossed it over top of the screen. In just her shift, she gripped the hem. “Would you like for me to continue? I wish to ready myself for bed.”
“Aye, nay, aye. I mean halt.”
“I dinnae wish for there to be any more secrets between us.”
“Thank heavens you’ve never created this link with another man.” A fierce growl. “Leave your shift on. You can sleep in that.”
“Are you certain?” She dropped the hem, palmed the undersides of her breasts through the cotton and scooped them higher, rubbed her thumbs over her nipples and gasped at the delicious tingles that raced across her skin. Never had she touched herself in such a brazen way before and ’twas most, ah, interesting.
“Do you want me to fall off my horse? I have no’ done that since I was a lad.”
“Nay, I dinnae wish to have to tend any more injuries this night.” She sashayed out from behind the screen. “What a shame you’re so far away.”
“More than a shame.”
She nabbed her brush from her side table and combed her hair, washed her teeth with a mint and salt paste, splashed her face with cool water from the basin then dived into bed and snuggled between the crisp white sheets, her red and gold patterned bedcover tucked under her chin. ’Twas a quilt she’d made herself. As a child Mama had taught her how to sew squares of beautifully colored fabric together to create a pattern and she’d done so with this red and gold silk, the design reflecting a rainbow of the two striking hues. Mama’s favorite colors and Papa’s too. Each night when she fell asleep, ’twas with thoughts of her parents close to her heart.
Eyes closed, she tracked Ronan’s movements, followed him as he galloped through the dark and down the winding cliff top trail until he came out next to the secluded bay near Duncan’s stronghold. The fortified walls of Ardan House rose out of the dark and the guardsman standing on duty at the gatehouse bellowed the warning of their arrival.
Both men slowed their horses as they passed the sea-gate where a powerful war galley bobbed from its mooring at the end of the landing. Duncan’s vessel. He adored the sea, sailing along Scotland’s western coastline and in and about the isles. Through the main gate, Ronan and Hamish rode under the high arch, their horses heaving misty air as they brought them to a stop within the inner courtyard.
Torches mounted on the curtain wall spread their flickering glow across the stony ground and up toward the battlements where Duncan’s warriors patrolled in battle attire, their weapons holstered at their sides and stance strong. ’Twas a heavily fortified keep, even more so than Carron Castle.
Hamish jumped from his horse and landed with a clomp on the gravel, handed his reins to a stable lad who rushed forward to take them then marched across the yard to the front door and halted on the step underneath the eaves. He eyed Ronan who still sat atop his horse surveying the bailey and all within it. “Are you coming?”
“Aye, I’m coming.” He dismounted, handed his reins to the lad who waited and followed Hamish inside. “Stay with me.”
“Always.” This coming meeting was one she’d never miss out on. She remained embedded deeply within Ronan’s mind as he prepared himself for the conversation to come, for this night he’d not only speak to Duncan, but also be close once again to his father after being parted for nigh on a month. “I’m sorry you were kept separated from your father during your imprisonment. If there had been any other way, Duncan would have taken it, but Hamish had seen that both yours and your father’s capture was needed in order for Muirin to have the chance to convince Niall of their mated bond. Your father wouldnae have come willingly to her otherwise, no’ while she remained on MacKenzie land and our clans so fiercely at war. Neither could we have told you the truth until the time was right. Our fae princess might have intervened and changed things.”
* * * *
“I’ve accepted all that happened, have no issue since my capture brought me to you.” With
one hand firm on the hilt of his side belted sword, he strode into the great hall with its vaulted ceiling and high wooden beamed rafters. Large tapestries of the countryside covered the walls, and a dozen or more trestle tables had been pushed to one side with a good fifty sleeping pallets laid down before the roaring fire. Warriors had already bedded down for the night, men wearing both the MacKenzie plaid as he did, and the MacRae tartan. “Why are there so many warriors from clan MacRae here?”
“One of the MacRae chief’s sons now possesses a large parcel of land to the south of us and has forged an alliance with Coll and Duncan. The younger MacRae has wed a lass who holds a touch of fae blood and wishes only to ensure her protection and that of their son. His eldest is only four and holds the ‘power of thought.’ He can levitate, move objects and people, and all with only a thought from his mind alone.” Kyla sent a wave of warmth and love down their link, wrapped him fully in it. “Muirin aids the young lad in his training and Coll and Duncan have moved swiftly to ensure she can without issue. Certainly should Colin ever get his hands on the lad, I shudder to think what would become of him.”
“At the village, we have two who hold the same skill. They could aid the lad in his training as well if required.” He’d make the offer to whomever he must another time. For now, he followed Hamish around the perimeter of the hall and into a side antechamber holding a large table and chairs.
Hamish crossed to the other side of the room and knocked on a partially opened door. “’Tis Hamish.”
“Come in.”
That voice Ronan would never mistake, not when it belonged to his most beloved parent. Grinning, he jogged past Hamish and rushed inside. Behind a chunky oak desk in the chief’s solar, Father sat, his blond hair holding a streak of silver on one side. “Father.”
“Ronan?” With his sword sheathed at his side, Father shoved to his feet in gray pants and a thick fur vest. Face awash with astonishment, he swept around the desk. “I realize ’tis been a month since I last saw you, but you’ve changed a great deal in that time.” Father grasped his arms. “What is with those lips of yours? Did a bee sting you?”
“Several bees, and so much has happened since our joint capture.” He hauled Father into his arms and held him close, such relief at seeing him flowing through him. “Are you well?”
“Very, and how on earth are you here with Hamish?” Shaking his head, Father stared at him with such bewilderment. Not surprising. The same emotion still consumed him with all he’d learnt this day.
“I needed to sneak back into Carron Castle and claim my chosen one, and preferably without alerting the guards as to whom I was. Kyla holds fae blood and the mind-walker skill, is Grace and Isaiah’s lost daughter, Christina.”
“Kyla has accepted you and your bond?”
“She will, as soon as I clear up a matter of who she is currently betrothed to.”
“What betrothal do you speak of?”
“Duncan has no’ told you?”
“I havenae seen Duncan since he rode in.”
“I heard visitors have arrived.” With a great plaid belted at his waist and looped over one shoulder, a claymore glinting at his side, Duncan strode in and cast his gaze from Hamish to Father then him. “Coll?” A deep frown. “What are you doing back?”
“This isnae Coll.” Father clapped Ronan on the shoulder. “Duncan, meet Ronan, my son.”
“Hell, your resemblance to my brother is so strong, yet you look naught as you did the last time we met.” Duncan stepped closer. “Your hair is dark, your beard gone and that mouth...”
“Aye, my mouth is fuller.” He rubbed his plump lips. “I had need to disguise my appearance to begin with in order to get into Carron, had no idea though that in doing so I’d end up looking exactly like Coll, my cousin.”
“You’re aware Coll and I are your cousins?”
“Hamish explained the details surrounding your birth, ‘saw’ that he could speak to me of it, and glad I am that he did.” No matter Duncan had captured him and Father, separated them afterward and had him contained within Carron’s cells while he’d brought Father here, he’d still done so in order to give Muirin the chance to meet his parent and accept their bond. That he couldn’t fault Duncan for. “I only wish I’d known of your fae blood sooner. It would have made all the difference.”
“Coll and I take great care with whom we tell.” Duncan glanced at Hamish. “What else might you have seen?”
“Ronan’s loyalty belongs to Kyla, his father and his closest kin, which now includes you and Coll.” Hamish leaned one hip against the wall, his black leather vest pulled tight across his shoulders. “I saw all would be well should I tell him the truth, and he needed to learn of it, just as Niall has.”
“Then it appears I owe you an apology, Ronan.” Duncan extended his hand to him. “My guardsmen mistreated you during your imprisonment, and after I’d given them explicit instructions no’ to. Their orders were to keep you contained within the cells due to your battle skill, but never to lay a hand upon you as they did. They were punished for their transgression then sent away.”
“Apology accepted.” He shook Duncan’s hand.
“That easily, that quickly?”
“I’ve no need to hold a grudge, and in all honesty, I intend to ask a request of you, one you’re no’ permitted to turn down. I’ve returned for Kyla. Your foster sister holds the other half of my soul, has formed a merged link of the mind with me and right now sees all I see and hears all I hear. She is the one my soul hungers for, the only woman I’ll ever desire. I ask that you break your betrothal with her, immediately.”
“Coll and I brought Kyla here for a reprieve from our father.” Duncan grasped his shoulder. “I’ve no wish to lose her. I love her, have since the day she came to live at my father’s keep. Coll and I have ensured her protection and she’ll always be ours to love and protect. Provided you can accept Coll and I in her life, that you treat her with all the respect she deserves, then I’ll gladly step aside.”
“I will guard her life with mine, and certainly never allow Colin MacKenzie near her again.”
“As I would guard your life with mine too, my stubborn mate.” Sweetly sensual words, ones he clasped ahold of and kept close to his heart.
“Will you marry me, Kyla?”
“You’re mine, Ronan Matheson, always mine. Give Duncan my thanks, and tell him I love him too, but I surely am relieved I’ll never have to suffer through another one of his slobbery kisses.”
“You two have kissed?” He fisted his hands.
“Once, only once, and ’twas a terrible kiss.” She wriggled about in her bed.
“Then answer my question. Will you marry me?”
“Ask me in person and I shall give you my answer, one which will require an abundance of kisses from you.”
“I intend to do far more than just kiss you the next time I get my hands on you.” To Duncan, he muttered, “You have Kyla’s thanks, as well as mine. She also says she loves you.”
“Good evening, all.” A woman dressed in an exquisite silver gown with long draping sleeves edged in gold lace swished into the solar, a torque necklace of fine gold encircling her neck. Her iridescent eyes shimmered as she halted a breath away from Father and tucked her hand through the curve of his arm. “Would you like to introduce me to the man who looks exceedingly like Coll, but of course isnae?”
“Muirin, meet my son, Ronan. Kyla and Ronan are mated, and Duncan has graciously retracted his betrothal with her.”
“Oh my. I’ve been gone for only a few minutes and have missed so much.” Muirin’s iridescent eyes reflected such an array of colors, both breathtakingly fearsome to behold yet also undeniably beautiful. With her high cheeks, flawless skin, and rich red locks twisted high upon her head, the odd strand clinging to the long column of her neck, she was of clear fae blood, her face untouched by age yet her very presence speaking of the centuries of knowledge she must hold. She crossed to Ronan. “’Tis good to meet you.�
��
“As it is to meet you.”
“Your arrival here gives me the chance to apologize for my part in your capture and imprisonment. I’d been searching for your father for the longest time and when two are soul bound, neither can ignore the bond, particularly me. I’ve lived a long time and never thought I’d ever find my chosen one. All was made so much more difficult in that I resided here on his enemy’s soil.”
“We do what we must to find our chosen one, to draw them to our side. I no longer hold any hard feelings toward you.” He would gladly accept his father’s mate, no matter she’d first stolen Father away from him and Annella. She’d done so for the right reasons. Soul bound mates would do anything to ensure they never lost the one who held the other half of their soul and Muirin had acted as he would have done should their circumstances have been reversed. Nothing and no one would ever keep him from Kyla.
“Thank you.” Muirin cleared her throat, a tear in her eye. “I wish only to protect those of fae blood who walk this Earth.” She lifted one sleeve and tapped a mark branded on her upper arm, that of the ancient Celtic woven circle, one depicting infinity, the symbol of their fae kind. “There is naught I wouldnae do for my own kind, no matter where they reside, either here on Earth or beyond the veil.”
Sincerity laced her words and he dipped his head in acknowledgement. ’Twas time for a new beginning, for all of them. He’d been gifted with a mate, two cousins, and now a new mother when he’d been bereft of one for so very long.
“I’ve seen how deep your love for your fae kind is this past month.” Father squeezed Muirin’s hand. “Have discovered my ice queen has thawed and become someone I admire. ’Tis time for the fae to live, including all of us.”
Highlander's Bride: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 1) Page 8
