Artair's Temptress: Highlander Fate Book Five

by Knight, Stella

  She was surprised when Artair sought her out in her chamber one afternoon, as she was idly performing an Illumination spell on a candle, lighting it and snuffing it out with only a single command in Gaelic. Solus.

  She jumped when she felt eyes on her, turning to face him. For a moment, she’d seen a brief flare of longing—and something else she couldn’t detect—in his eyes, before it disappeared, and that stoic mask returned.

  “I’d like for ye tae perform the Concealing spell on the camp. All the men who are fighting have arrived,” he said.

  She nodded, trying not to show how much his coldness hurt, and followed him out.

  He led her to a patch of forest close to the manor, but far from the curious eyes of his men.

  She eyed the vantage point that any approaching rider would have and performed the spell, closing her eyes as she murmured the words.

  “Thoir sùil air an raon seo bho shealladh daonna. Cruthaich an raon seo bho shùilean daonna.”

  As he took her to several spots around the camp, she repeated the process, relishing in the feel of power that coiled within her as she uttered the words of the spell.

  When she finished the final spell, she turned to face him, freezing when she noticed the look of raw vulnerability in his eyes.

  She swallowed as he took a step toward her.

  “Diana—" he whispered, but the shouts of his men interrupted him.

  Alarm rippling through her, she whirled to face the shouts. Artair was already dashing out of the clearing, and she had to run to keep up with him.

  Once they emerged from the clearing, she halted in her tracks.

  A lone rider approached the castle. Artair turned to her, his body rigid with tension.

  “Get back tae the manor. Use whatever spell ye need tae make certain that no outsider can get in.”

  She hesitated, not wanting to leave him, her eyes straying to the approaching rider. She stilled as the rider drew closer—she recognized the rider. It was a woman.

  Loirin. Tamhas and Iomhar’s sister, the woman who’d allowed them to escape.

  Loirin dismounted, halting in her tracks as Artair and several men who’d joined them unsheathed their swords. She paled, holding up her hand to show she meant no harm.

  “Ye’re Tamhas’s sister,” Artair snarled.

  “Aye,” Loirin replied, her voice wavering.

  “What do ye want?” Artair demanded. “Why are ye here?”

  “I’m here tae warn ye about my brother,” Loirin said. “He has reinforcements—men from rival clans of the MacGreghors. He and his men will arrive here at first light.”

  Chapter 25

  “I never wanted any part of what my brothers have done,” Loirin said shakily, warming her hands by the fire.

  Loirin now sat in the drawing room of Artair’s manor. Artair stood opposite her, along with Diana, Latharn and Keagan. Keagan had been suspicious and wanted Artair to take her as a prisoner, but he’d told him that Loirin was the one who’d helped them escape.

  Still, he regarded her with wariness as she continued.

  “I kept silent out of fear. My brothers—they’ve always scared me. My father was worse. After Iomhar was killed . . . I didnae shed any tears. Part of me was relieved. I’ve—I’ve heard the screams of the lasses he’s tormented over the years,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Why are ye here?” Artair asked. He was sympathetic to the lass, but a part of him remained suspicious. It seemed too convenient that she’d arrived just as he was preparing his men to fight her brother.

  “Tae warn ye,” Loirin said, raising desperate eyes to meet his. “My brother made me come tae the Highlands with him; I think he kens I want tae run away. When I heard him talk of what he planned tae do to the women—tae the Sassenach lass and Lady Padarsan, I kent I couldnae keep silent.”

  Terror coiled through Artair; he had to rein in his panic and remain calm. At his side, both Keagan and Diana went pale.

  “I came tae tell ye that he plans tae arrive here at first light tomorrow. He thinks ye’re not prepared. He plans tae slaughter ye and all who support ye and take the Sassenach and Lady Padarsan hostage. I—I donnae want tae repeat what he said he intends tae do tae them. But ye need tae prepare yourselves for his arrival.”

  “Where is he now?” Artair asked, rage clawing through his chest. He couldn’t wait to kill the bastard.

  “Camped out in a forest just south of here,” Loirin replied. “He has over one hundred men. He’s promised tae share yer riches with them once he’s killed ye.”

  He studied Loirin, trying to ascertain if she was telling the truth or if this was a trick. But there was genuine fear in her eyes.

  “I thank ye for coming here, at great risk tae yerself,” he said, believing her words to be the truth. “If ye want tae stay, I can offer ye protection—”

  “No,” Loirin said quickly. “I—I cannae stay. He’ll come looking for me and ken I’ve told ye of his plans. ’Tis best if he thinks ye’re unprepared. And as much of a monster as my brother has become, I donnae think he’ll hurt me.”

  “Are you certain?” Diana spoke up, her brow furrowed with concern. “We saw you with a baby when we escaped the first time. Is the child—”

  “The bairn is safely in Lockerbie with her mother,” Loirin interrupted. “She’s not mine, just one of Iomhar’s many bastards. I felt pity for the child. I willnae have bairns until I’ve escaped from Tamhas or if he falls in battle,” she added, giving Artair a meaningful look. “’Tis only a matter of time. His deeds have made him many enemies.”

  She left after refusing any more food or drink, and he and Diana stood in front of his manor, watching her vanish into the distance on her horse.

  “I wish we’d convinced her to stay,” Diana murmured. “Do you think she’ll be all right?”

  “Aye. She kens her brother better than we do,” he said. He turned to face her, his body going tense. “Diana, what she said about Tamhas coming after ye—”

  “No,” Diana interrupted, giving him a defiant look. “Don’t you dare tell me to get myself to safety. I gave you my word that I’d help, and that’s what I intend to do. Tamhas can try to harm me,” she said, darkness entering her eyes. “He doesn’t know what I’m capable of.”

  Artair couldn't help but smile as he gazed into the eyes of the woman he loved. His fierce golden witch. His heart.

  “I have tae spend the rest of the day with my men preparing for tomorrow’s fight. I—I ken I’ve been absent—”

  “Artair, you don’t have to—" she began.

  “No,” he returned. “I owe ye my apology. I was hurt when ye said ye needed tae go home. I wanted tae try and purge ye from my mind, but that didnae work. It just made me want ye more. I want tae share supper with ye tonight, just the two of us. There’s something I want tae discuss with ye.”

  He was going to tell her how he felt. It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell her earlier, before the shouts of his men and Loirin’s approach had interrupted them.

  He was tired of hiding his love from her; it wouldn’t change how he felt or make her departure any less painful. He would do everything he could to survive tomorrow’s battle, but he wanted her to know how he felt before he stepped onto the battlefield. If he fell tomorrow, he could do it knowing that Diana was aware of his love for her.

  Turmoil filled her expression; he feared she’d refuse him. But she gave him a brief nod of acquiescence before turning to head back inside.

  For the remainder of the day, he had to force himself to concentrate on his tasks: running drills with his men, riding with Latharn to the nearby village to warn the locals to flee or prepare to defend themselves if Tamhas's men ventured there.

  Fatigue had settled in on him by the time he returned to the manor for his private supper with Diana, which his servants had set up in his chamber at his request.

  But as soon as he found Diana waiting for him, a vision of loveliness in a gown of
forest green, her honey-colored hair loose around her shoulders, his fatigue vanished. He drank in the sight of her, wanting to sear her into his memory.

  “Diana,” he whispered. “I love ye.”

  He froze as the words fell past his lips. He’d meant to share supper with her first, to offer her another apology for his distance, and then tell her how he felt. But the words had tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

  He waited, his mouth dry and his heart hammering against his chest as he waited for her response. But she remained silent, her face pale with shock.

  “I—I’m sorry,” he said, as the silence stretched. “I shouldnae have—”

  “Artair,” Diana interrupted, her voice wavering. “Shut up.”

  She crossed to him in three long strides, pressing her lips to his. He fiercely returned her kiss, holding her body close.

  “Artair,” she whispered, when they broke apart. “I love you too. I killed a man to save your life. I’d do it again, a thousand times over. I love you, Artair Dalaigh. I was a prat to try and fight my feelings for you—”

  “No. I was the fool,” Artair whispered. “Tae avoid ye for days when I wanted nothing more than tae have ye at my side. Tae try tae deny what my body has always kent.”

  Their lips met again, and he swung her up into his arms, the meal forgotten. He lowered her gown and bent down to capture one of her rosy nipples in his mouth, suckling eagerly, as she arched against him. She reached down to stroke him, and he sucked in his breath as he lowered her to her feet.

  Diana took the lead, stepping out of her gown before undressing him. He sat down on the bed, aching for her as she straddled him, sinking down onto his erect hardness.

  They both moaned, and he placed his hands on her buttocks as she began to ride him, throwing her head back and gasping as he leaned forward to lave her breasts with his tongue.

  “Diana,” he whispered. “My Diana. I love ye.”

  “And I love you,” she returned, making his heart swell with joy. “So very much.”

  She suddenly arched upright, her eyes rolling back as her orgasm claimed her. His climax followed hers, and he let out a roar of pleasure as his body shook with its force.

  Diana slumped forward, out of breath as she rested her head on his shoulder. He kept her in his arms as he rolled back onto the bed.

  For several long moments they just lay there in silence, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire and their quick breaths. Diana finally sat up, reaching out to trace her fingers along his torso.

  “Artair,” she whispered. “About tomorrow, and after the—”

  “No,” he silenced her. “I want tae only think about tonight. Now that I ken ye love me, I’ll fight even harder.”

  “Ye’re not going tae fall in battle tomorrow, Artair. If I have to kill more men to prevent that from happening, I’ll do it,” Diana said, her expression turning fierce.

  “My love,” he murmured, though pride rippled through him at the determination in her tone. “We agreed that tomorrow will be a fair fight—no witchcraft. Ye’ll protect the manor and the servants inside."

  Conflict filled her eyes, but she didn’t protest.

  “You come back to me tomorrow, Artair Dalaigh,” she whispered.

  “I will do everything I can tae return tae ye,” he returned. “Diana . . . loving ye has made me realize something about myself. I never wanted tae admit this tae myself before, but I think it was because of my father that I closed myself off for so long.”

  “Your father?”

  “Aye. After my mother died . . . he withdrew from me and Liosa. Her loss destroyed him. I remember thinking that I didnae want love tae destroy me. It was why I was content tae have a loveless marriage with Caitria. Ye’ve changed everything for me, Diana.”

  Her eyes filled at his words, and he peppered kisses along her jaw, her throat, and down to her breasts. He wanted to again show her with his body, and his words, how much he loved her. How much he would always love her.

  “Hold still, my golden witch,” he whispered. “I have days of neglect tae make up for.”

  “You do,” she agreed with a chuckle, but her chuckle soon turned to a low moan of pleasure.

  Chapter 26

  Artair’s heart pounded like a battering ram against his ribcage as he stood on the front lines of his men, waiting for Tamhas’s men to appear. It was just before first light, and he had to force thoughts of Diana to the back of his mind, knowing they would be a distraction—the firelight illuminating her beautiful body as she rode him, the words of love they’d exchanged.

  They’d made love once more before rising long before the servants: Diana to place protective charms and spells around the entrances to the home, Artair to make his way out to the camp. They’d exchanged a long, passionate kiss before parting, and even though he’d done his best to reassure her, Artair had felt the wetness of her tears on his face.

  I will kill Tamhas today, he promised himself. I will end this, and there will be no lingering threat tae Diana or tae my family.

  The sound of stampeding horses pulled him to the present, and he stiffened, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. He turned to Latharn and Keagan who flanked him. They both gave him nods, indicating they were ready.

  Artair turned and gestured for his men to charge.

  They darted out from the trees just as Tamhas’s men appeared in the distance. Though a fog had settled over the land, he could see the startled expressions of Tamhas’s men as he and his men charged forward.

  Both sides collided in a blur of metallic sword clashes, grunts, and colliding bodies. Artair’s sword clashed with the sword of a large, burly man. They fought, whirling around each other, before he kicked the man to the ground, turning to fight off another man, and then another, his movements rapid.

  He’d fought only twice before in his life; both times for the MacGreghor clan. He’d been trained to fight by some of the strongest warriors of the clan. But there was nothing like the true ferocity of battle.

  His movements were purely guided by instinct, and as he fought, he searched the fighting bodies for Tamhas, finally locating him in the center of the fighting men, dark glee filling his eyes as he ran a man through with his sword. Artair charged at him with a growl, and Tamhas turned, a fierce rage entering his eyes.

  Their swords clashed in midair as they began to fight. Tamhas was a strong fighter, meeting Artair blow by blow. For a while they were evenly matched, but Tamhas soon managed to kick Artair in the abdomen, sending him to his knees. Tamhas knocked him to the ground with the hilt of his sword and stepped forward, his eyes bright with fury as he pressed his foot to Artair’s throat.

  “Was it ye or yer Sassenach bitch that killed my brother?”

  “It was me,” Artair rasped, struggling to free himself from Tamhas’s hold. “He wept like a lassie when I threw him against the wall. I’d kill him again if I had the chance.”

  Tamhas let out a roar of rage, lifting his sword to stab him straight through, but someone struck him from behind, giving Artair the opportunity to roll away.

  It was Latharn who’d struck Tamhas, and as he fought Tamhas, Artair stumbled to his feet. Together, he and Latharn’s swords clashed with Tamhas’s, but Tamhas expertly defended himself against the both of them.

  Latharn had to turn away from the fight when two other men charged him from behind. Artair poured every ounce of his strength into his sword thrusts as he and Tamhas continued to fight. He needed to hasten their fight before Tamhas exhausted him; he reared back and lunged forward, piercing Tamhas in the abdomen with his sword.

  Tamhas howled with pain, one hand lowering to clutch his bleeding abdomen, all the while continuing to fight Artair with the other.

  “I think ye’re lying!” Tamhas shouted, his voice wavering with pain and fury over the metallic clangs of their swords. “I think yer whore killed my brother. I will see her dead at the end of my sword—after me and my men have had time ta
e enjoy her body.”

  Hot rage surged through him, and Artair lunged forward, determined to deal the final, fatal blow, when another one of Tamhas’s men charged at him. Artair had no choice but to whirl around and fight him off, knocking him unconscious with the hilt of his sword.

  When he turned back around, panic darted through him when he saw that Tamhas was gone. He stumbled forward, frantic, until he spotted Tamhas racing toward a horse tied up to a nearby tree, still clutching his abdomen. At first, he assumed Tamhas was being a coward and fleeing battle, and then he remembered Tamhas’s threat.

  Fear sliced through him. Tamhas was going after Diana.

  He knew that Diana had put protective spells around his manor, but what if Tamhas still found a way in and caught her off guard?

  Artair charged after Tamhas, mounting another horse and racing after him. Artair kept his focus trained on Tamhas, kicking the sides of his horse to make him move faster. He tightened his grip on the reins as his horse closed in on Tamhas, until they were riding almost side by side.

  He reached for his sword and slashed out at Tamhas. Tamhas evaded the blow, but his horse panicked and reared back, tossing Tamhas to the ground.

  Artair leapt from his horse, darting toward Tamhas’s prone form, raising his sword, but Tamhas stumbled to his feet.

  It happened impossibly fast. Tamhas lunged forward, plunging his sword into Artair’s abdomen and twisting it, as pain like Artair had never known tore through him.

  He sank to his knees, pressing his hands to his bleeding wound, when he heard a scream—a familiar scream—behind him.

  Panic careened through his injured body. It was Diana. She was here. No.

  Tamhas removed his sword from Artair’s abdomen, a sickening look of hunger flitting across his face as he looked past him.

  “Ye get tae watch while I rape and kill yer whore,” Tamhas hissed.

  Artair turned as Diana approached them through the wisps of fog, looking like the powerful witch she was, her golden hair wafting around her in the morning breeze. She was all fire and fury as she raised her hands.