by Donna Grant
She rose from the bed and glanced down at the ruined chemise. Thankfully she had another. Once she was dressed, she reached for her comb. Instead of leaving it free, she decided to braid her hair to help keep it out of her face while she worked.
Isla walked from the tower after she tied the thin strip of leather at the end of the braid. It felt odd not to have her hair around her, but it only got in the way.
When she reached the great hall, several Warriors were already there. In one glance she noticed Hayden wasn’t among them. The MacLeod brothers, however, were.
They nodded in greeting as she passed on her way to the kitchen. She felt a tickle in her mind, something strange and new. And she didn’t like it. It reminded her too much of Deirdre’s invasion of her mind.
Isla paused and lifted a hand to her temple as she squeezed her eyes shut as pain began to build. She used her magic to push whoever — or whatever — was trying to get into her head out.
“Are you all right?” Broc asked.
She opened her eyes to find the hall spinning. She reached out to steady herself and locked onto a strong arm.
“Whoa,” Broc said. “You need to sit.”
“Nay.” As quickly as the tickle had come, it was gone. Isla blinked her eyes open and released her hold on Broc’s arm. “I’m all right. Just a little dizzy.”
Fallon rose and walked to her. “Are you sure that’s all? Maybe Sonya could help.”
At the mention of the red-haired Druid, Isla saw Broc tense.
“I don’t need to see Sonya. This has occurred before,” she lied. “It’s nothing.”
She didn’t want any of them to know she was disturbed and worried about what had just happened. The less everyone knew the better. At least until she had some answers of her own.
Broc looked over her shoulder and frowned. His fingers bit into her upper arm. She hadn’t even realized he had hold of her until that moment.
She put her hand on his chest and smiled up at Broc. “Thank you. I need to help the others.”
Isla glanced behind her to find Hayden standing at the entrance to the castle. He glared at Broc, murder in his eyes. Beside him, Arran looked puzzled and more than a little curious.
She ignored them all and walked into the kitchen. All four women were busy readying the morning meal. Sonya was the first to glance up. She smiled in greeting before she turned and reached into the ovens.
“There you are,” Larena said. “We were worried you might not be feeling well.”
Isla grabbed the ewer from Marcail’s hand. “I slept.”
“I’m glad you got some rest,” Cara said as she cut into the bread.
Marcail tilted her head to the side, her braids falling into her face. “You do have the look of a woman well content.”
Every eye in the kitchen shifted to her then. Isla forced herself to stay still and not fidget. She finally shrugged and said, “Sleep can do that.”
Isla turned and retreated back into the great hall. At least no one there was eyeing her as if they knew she had been well pleasured last night.
The others followed her out of the kitchen, their hands filled with trenchers piled with food. She noticed Fallon, Camdyn, and Hayden missing, but didn’t think much about it. The way the women kept looking at her made Isla more than a little uncomfortable.
Isla grabbed some bread and cheese intending to go to the beach. She was about to make her excuses when she heard shouting from above that drew her gaze.
Hayden’s voice boomed above Fallon’s and Camdyn’s as he argued. Isla wasn’t sure what was going on, but by the way Hayden’s skin was turning red, she knew his rage was growing.
“If you want someone watching her, you do it,” Hayden shouted. “I’ve got other things to do than spy on her.”
Fallon glanced over the railing to the great hall below, his gaze landing on her. “Hayden,” he warned.
Isla knew in an instant they were talking about her. Her skin turned clammy with fury and embarrassment. She couldn’t take her eyes off Hayden’s back as she willed him to look at her.
“It’s not what you think,” Lucan’s voice reached her.
But Isla knew it was. They didn’t trust her. She could understand that. Yet they had gone behind her back to have her watched.
She squared her shoulders and turned to the castle door. “I’m going for a walk.”
“I’ll come with you,” Marcail said.
Isla speared her with a glance. “I’d rather be alone.”
Marcail slowly sank back onto the bench, hurt in her turquoise eyes, but Isla didn’t care. She had never felt such humiliation before in her life. Deirdre had done many things, but she had never made Isla feel as unwanted as a flea.
Isla walked into the bailey, then beneath the gatehouse. She wanted to keep on walking and never look back at MacLeod Castle, but she had given her word to keep the shield up. She would not break that vow.
She turned and headed toward the village. There she would find her solace and something to take her mind off what Hayden had done and said.
*
Hayden knew Isla was in the hall even before Fallon looked down. He hadn’t meant to let things get out of control. He had thought speaking with Fallon about it would solve everything. But Fallon had wanted him to continue watching Isla.
What Fallon didn’t know was that Hayden couldn’t chance it. Nothing Hayden said could change Fallon’s mind. Finally, Hayden’s control had broken and he’d let his ire get the better of him.
He hadn’t wanted Isla to know. He certainly hadn’t wanted her to hear him. Despite his good intentions, she had seen and heard all of it.
Hayden watched her walk from the hall, anger in every step. Her back rigid, her hands fisted, crushing the bread and cheese held there.
He almost went to her, almost took her in his arms and apologized.
“That wasn’t well done, Hayden,” Broc said from below.
Hayden sighed and leaned his hands on the railing. Camdyn walked away, but Fallon stayed.
“What is going on?” Fallon asked. “Did something happen between you and Isla?”
Aye. “Nay. I just doona want to be around her. I can’t.”
Fallon blew out a breath and clasped him on the shoulder. “I’ll have another watch her, then.”
Hayden should have felt relieved. He should have been overjoyed. Instead, he felt worse than a slug. How had his life gotten so messed up? When had things gotten complicated?
He used to be in control, used to make decisions easily and not change his mind or wonder if he was right. Now, all he did was second guess himself. Ever since he’d first seen Isla, dying on that cold mountainside, his life had been irrevocably altered.
And not for the best.
Hayden’s appetite was gone, and the thought of sitting in the hall with some looking at him as if he was addled and others looking at him as if he were the bringer of doom, left him cold inside. He turned on his heel and looked for a window to climb out of.
There was only one place he could go where he knew he wouldn’t be disturbed — one of the many caves.
Hayden easily reached the inaccessible holes in the cliffs thanks to his god. He stalked inside one of the shallow caves and ran a hand down his face. It was dark and clammy, just like his mood.
He’d gotten no rest after leaving Isla’s bed. He had paced his chamber trying to find a way out of the situation he’d put himself in. The first step was to distance himself from Isla as much as he could. Which meant no longer watching her as the MacLeods had requested.
He’d gotten what he wanted, but he didn’t like the empty feeling inside him now. He should feel relieved, happy not to have Isla as his responsibility anymore.
Why then did he have the insane urge to go and find her, to try and make her understand why he had said the things he had?
Hayden lowered himself to the floor at the cave’s entrance and stared out at the sea. Waves rolled in, clashing with the bould
ers and sending spray shooting toward the sky. It was a constant battle the sea and land were in, and no matter how strong the land stood, the water eventually won.
If only Isla had been anyone but who she was. He could have enjoyed the passion they shared and not felt as if he dishonored his family. He wouldn’t feel the need to push her away when all he wanted to do was pull her close and kiss her again.
Why did it have to be so difficult? It had been many decades since he had found a woman who intrigued him as Isla did. Why couldn’t she have just been a normal woman?
Hayden knew part of Isla’s appeal was her magic and how it affected him. He wanted to overlook it, overlook her, but he feared he wasn’t strong enough.
Holding Isla in his arms, kissing her, caressing her … loving her had felt so right. As if his entire life had been building toward her, toward finding her and the moment he first kissed her.
He hated that something so right could be so wrong.
TWENTY-THREE
Deirdre felt her magic wane. She threw a fist in anger but it just went through the wall of her chamber. If only Dunmore and the wyrran would return with a Druid, she could be whole once more.
Her anger stemmed from more than that, though. She had tried to reach Isla. For a moment, Deirdre thought she might have succeeded, but the link vanished too soon.
With her magic so dimmed Deirdre wasn’t sure if she was connecting with Isla or not. She had even sent a handful of wyrran to see if they could locate Isla.
If she’d somehow been captured Deirdre would make sure she was rescued, but Deirdre didn’t think that was the case. Either Isla was dead, or she had tried to escape. With Grania and Lavena gone, there was nothing Deirdre could use to make Isla do as she wanted.
Deirdre had thought after five centuries Isla would have been swayed to her side, but the Druid was stronger than Deirdre had ever realized.
She had sought out Lavena for her skills in seeing the future, but the sister she should have bent to her will was Isla. Oh, Isla was a slave to her in more ways than one, but Isla still fought her.
Had Deirdre seen the signs of Isla’s power sooner, she could have worked it so that Isla welcomed the evil inside her. Deirdre didn’t think even Isla knew how great her magic was, and if Deirdre had her way, Isla never would.
Isla would be hers once again, and Deirdre would do whatever it took to have her.
*
Isla’s braid fell over her shoulder and whacked her in the arm as she bent to pick up a broken ewer from the cottage floor. She tossed it through the open door and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.
She saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye and turned to the window. She had thrown the shutters open to let in the sun and breeze. Leaning an arm across the sill was Malcolm, Larena’s cousin. Isla saw how he held his mangled right arm firmly against his side.
His face was haggard and he sported a mangy beard that hid most of his face, but even then Isla could see his handsomeness. A beard and scars did not hide his vibrant blue eyes or his hollowed cheeks and square jaw. His blond hair was darker than Hayden’s and held more body to it. Malcolm had a lock that constantly fell over his forehead and tangled in his long eyelashes.
“Hello,” she said when he simply stared at her.
“Why are you always alone?”
She raised a brow and chuckled. “You ask me that? You who stay by yourself most of the day.”
His gaze moved around the cottage. There was a hard line to his lips, as if they were permanently twisted in a snarl. “You work as if you care what happens here.”
“You don’t think I do?”
“Why should you? You’ll be gone soon enough.”
Isla watched the sea breeze ruffle the hair about his shoulders. “And how would you know that?”
“Because we’re the same.” His gaze clashed and held hers. “We’re here because for now it’s where we need to be. Soon, however, things will change and we will leave. It’s in your eyes. Anyone who knows what to look for will see it.”
She could only stand in muted astonishment. Was she so obvious? Of course, she had told the MacLeods she would leave, and Malcolm could have overheard the conversation.
“Does Larena know you plan to go away?” Isla asked.
Malcolm shoved the lock of hair back from his forehead. “I tried to tell her, but she willna listen. This is her home now.”
“From what I understand, it’s yours as well.”
“I have no home,” he stated flatly. “It was taken from me.”
Isla knew where the conversation was heading. She decided to take the direct approach. “And you blame me.”
Malcolm snorted and fisted his left hand. “You didna attack me. You didn’t use claws to scar my face and body. You didn’t make my arm useless.”
“You’re lucky to be alive, Malcolm. You should rejoice that Broc found you, and Sonya was able to heal you.”
“I should, but I don’t. They would have been better to let me die.” He blew out a harsh breath. “Doona think I’m not grateful to them. Fallon has allowed me to stay and taken me in as one of his own.”
“But you were to be laird,” she finished for him. “Your life was taken from you.”
“As yours was.”
Isla looked away, unable to look into his haunted eyes another moment. In his gaze she saw the sadness, the anger, the bitterness that she carried within herself. And she ached for him because there was nothing anyone could do for Malcolm.
“What is between you and Hayden?” Malcolm asked.
Isla jerked her head toward him. “What do you mean?”
“I’m left alone, but that doesna mean I donna see things. I saw the kiss you two shared on the beach. It surprised me considering how much Hayden despises droughs.”
She kicked at a broken table leg. “If there was ever anything between us, it is long gone now.”
“I wonder,” Malcolm murmured before he turned and left.
Isla shook her head and continued working. Hours went by before she heard someone say her name. She looked up to find Cara in the doorway of the cottage, a water skin in her outstretched hand.
“Thank you,” Isla said as she took the water and drank deeply. She wiped her chin where water had dripped with the back of her hand and leaned against the door. She had worked nonstop for hours to occupy her mind, and it had worked just as she hoped.
Cara looked around the cottage. “You’ve been working hard.”
“I cannot sit around doing nothing. I must keep busy.” Now that she was idle, however, she found herself thinking about Hayden. Isla looked past Cara into the center of the village where the other Warriors gathered to rest.
She didn’t see Hayden, but she was sure he wasn’t far. No one had left the area since she had shielded it.
“He’s not here,” Cara said.
Isla glanced away hoping Cara wouldn’t say more. She should have known better.
“We should have told you someone would be following you.”
“Aye, you should have.” Isla looked at Cara, wanting to be angry, but one look at Cara’s honest, mahogany eyes, and Isla couldn’t find it in herself.
Cara licked her lips and fiddled with the wine skin. “Lucan and his brothers do trust you, but you admitted when Deirdre takes over, you are not yourself. They wanted to ensure everyone’s safety in case that happened.”
“I think they’re doing the right thing. Had I been told, I would have understood.”
Cara smiled, her face lighting up with joy. “I’m so glad. Why don’t you come with me and Marcail? We’re running low on herbs.”
Isla had spent most of her five hundred years alone. Maybe it was time she made herself join others. “I would like that.”
“Come then,” Cara said and took her hand as she pulled her from the cottage. “It is time to have some fun.”
As Isla followed her, she noticed that several Warriors watched them walk through t
he village. Isla wondered which of them was to follow her now.
Why had Hayden done it in the first place? And why did she even care?
They found Marcail waiting for them at the back of the village near the old convent. Cara slowed and glanced at the ruins.
“They took me in when no one else would,” Cara said. “The nuns cared for many abandoned children.”
Isla couldn’t look at the convent. To think of the children who had died there made her sick to her stomach. She gave Cara a moment and moved to join Marcail.
“What herbs are we searching for?” Isla asked.
“None.” Marcail laughed when Isla frowned. “I told Cara that to get her out of the castle. She’s worse than Quinn in coddling me.”
Isla chuckled at the devilment in Marcail’s eyes. Behind them Cara blew out a breath and mumbled something about getting even.
Marcail linked her arms with Isla. “Don’t get me wrong, I like Quinn being concerned, but sometimes it can be … well,” she with a shrug, “overwhelming.”
“I can imagine.” But Isla thought it would be nice to have someone worry about her like that.
Cara moved to Isla’s other side. “Don’t listen to her, Isla. Marcail loves that we fuss over her. It’ll be the first child born in MacLeod Castle in three hundred years. We’re all excited.”
“Do you and Larena want children of your own?” Isla asked.
“Very much so,” Cara said. “But not yet. Lucan … well, he doesn’t want to have a god inside him when we have a child. I told him it didn’t matter to me, but I conceded to his wishes. Larena has done the same for Fallon.”
“They drink a concoction Sonya makes for them that’s a mixture of herbs and magic.”
Isla knew exactly what they were talking about. “I know the one. I helped my mother make batches of it for our village. Every family would take turns brewing it each month.”
They reached the edge of Isla’s shield and she held out her hands to stop them. “We cannot go farther.”
“Then we’ll walk around it,” Marcail said with a smile.
Cara turned them to the right and they walked around the village toward the open expanse of land before the cliffs dropped off into the sea. It was a large distance. Enough that five other villages could have been placed there and still had room.
