Untamed Highlander ds-4

by Donna Grant

  “What I want is irrelevant. The simple truth is I am a drough.”

  “If you were really a drough the evil would have overtaken you centuries ago. Do you deny that?”

  Isla sighed. She wasn’t sure why she was arguing with Ian. She didn’t want to be a drough, and certainly didn’t want others to think of her as one. Yet, she was, and she had the scars on her wrists to prove she went through the ceremony.

  “Have you killed people?” Ian asked.

  Isla frowned as she looked into his soft brown eyes. “You know I have.”

  “Nay. Have you killed anyone? I’m not talking being under Deirdre’s control, I’m talking about you making the decision, you taking a weapon, and you ending another’s life.”

  She swallowed and thought of her niece. “Nay.”

  “Well, I have. Many of them. It doesn’t matter that they were Warriors and we’re at war. They were men first and foremost. I took their lives. I watched the life drain from their bodies.”

  Isla shook her head and smiled. This was an argument she wouldn’t win. No matter what she said, Ian would have a defense for her. It was something a friend or family member would do, not a stranger who barely knew her.

  She scratched at her cheek, befuddled at why Ian would go to such lengths. “Why do you care what I think of myself?”

  Ian reached his hand out and gently ran his thumb over her cheek where she’d just scratched. “Because you’re an asset to this clan, and we need you. If you’re confident in yourself and your magic, then I suspect it will be more difficult for Deirdre to prey on you.”

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  Isla’s heart fluttered as she heard Hayden’s voice behind her. Ian’s warm gaze moved over her head, a cocky smile on his lips.

  “Not at all,” Ian said. “Isla had a smudge of dirt on her face. I was merely removing it.”

  Hayden wanted to toss Ian off the cliff. The way he’d had his hand on Isla’s face, as if he were caressing her as a lover, had sent a spurt of rage and jealousy through Hayden.

  Hayden had told himself to walk on or even turn back and leap to the top of the cliffs, but he’d been unable to help himself.

  Isla turned to look at him. The smudge of dirt was still on her left cheek. Hayden glanced down to see the dirt beneath her fingernails and on her hands.

  Her hair was pulled back in another thick braid and flyaways caught in the sea breeze tangled around her face and into her eyelashes. He longed to pull her against him and block the wind from her as he bent and took her lips in a kiss.

  He wanted it so desperately that Hayden found himself stepping toward her. And if Ian hadn’t been there, he might have done just that.

  “Did you enjoy your swim?” Ian asked him.

  Hayden forced his gaze from Isla’s lovely face to Ian’s. “I did.”

  Silence stretched between the three of them. Hayden didn’t want to walk away, but he didn’t know what to say to Isla, especially not with Ian around. It was obvious something was going on between the two of them.

  Hayden hated to think it hadn’t taken Isla long to replace him in her bed.

  You’re the one that spurned her.

  She could have at least waited a few days. She hadn’t waited a single night. And that’s what needled under Hayden’s skin.

  He felt the tips of his fangs hit his tongue, a telltale sign his anger had risen, that his god was breaking free.

  It was Isla who broke the silence. She stepped toward him, anger flashing in her ice-blue eyes. “Get hold of yourself, Hayden. You’re closer to the edge than you comprehend. The MacLeods need you. Every innocent person of this world needs you to fight against Deirdre. You cannot help anyone if you lose yourself to your god.”

  He was so taken aback by her fury that he could only stare at her. He blinked as she turned on her heel, and then she was striding away.

  Ian rubbed his jaw and slid his gaze to Hayden. “She’s right. We do need you. Both of you can deny what’s between you, but it’s obvious to everyone.”

  “Just as its obvious she’s turned her attention to you.” As soon as it was out of his mouth Hayden regretted the words. It wasn’t Ian’s fault. Isla was a beautiful, alluring woman. If she turned her attention to a man, he’d be hard-pressed to deny her.

  Ian’s face went hard as he looked Hayden up and down. “You know nothing. You’re blind to everything, Hayden, and that will be your downfall.”

  Hayden waited until Ian had followed Isla before he scrubbed a hand down his face. Complicated now defined his life. And he hated it. He preferred simple. Everything was easier that way.

  He glanced at Isla’s retreating back before she turned the corner and disappeared from view. Ian was right behind her, his long strides eating up the distance.

  Every time Hayden saw Isla now, Ian was with her. Ian didn’t hide in the shadows as Hayden had done. Ian stood beside her, not caring what the others thought of him.

  Maybe Hayden should have done the same. He snorted. That wasn’t like him. What he did was his business. No one else needed to know.

  Once again Hayden wished Logan was there. This was the time Logan would say something clever, something that would make Hayden laugh and forget what he was upset about.

  But Logan wasn’t there and memories of Isla wouldn’t loosen their hold.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Dunmore jerked on the reins, making his horse skid to a stop. It had taken more time than he’d liked, but he’d found the man he’d been searching for. Peter was one of those men others trusted. Maybe it was his kind face or his mild manner, but people told Peter things, secret things.

  In the past Peter had been willing to share that information with Dunmore. For a price. Everyone had a price, and Dunmore had found Peter’s easily enough.

  If there was anyone who knew where more Druids were, it would be Peter.

  Dunmore swung down from his mount and looked around. The wyrran were keeping themselves hidden, waiting for the time he would call for them. He faced the small, rundown cottage and lifted his lip in revulsion.

  Peter had either been kicked out of his village, or he was trying to run from something. Dunmore chuckled to himself. Peter was most likely running from him, but it had done Peter little good.

  The blacksmith at the village some twenty leagues away had given Dunmore the location. It had taken a few broken fingers and a broken nose, but Dunmore had gotten what he wanted.

  “Peter, come out,” Dunmore called. “I know you’re in there. You doona want to make me come in for you.”

  A moment later the door creaked open and Peter stuck his head out. His mousy brown hair was tangled and matted around his face. He was thin, more thin than usual, as if he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in weeks. Months even.

  “Dunmore?” Peter said, his voice low and his eyes scanning the area chaotically.

  Dunmore put his hands on his hips. “What’s got you so afraid?”

  “Some people in the village found out what I was tellin’ ye. They didna like it much and banished me.”

  “And the coin I’d given you?”

  Peter shrugged and opened the door wider. He didn’t step outside, but he straightened to his full height. “I lost it while I fought for my life.”

  “I didna figure it would take people long to realize you weren’t the kindhearted man you pretended to be. What would they care that you told me about the Druids?”

  Peter folded his arms over his chest and shivered. “I … I didna know until they told me.”

  “Told you what?” Dunmore asked and took a menacing step toward Peter. Something was wrong, but he cared little of Peter’s trouble. All he wanted was answers so he could find a Druid and return it to Deirdre.

  “At one time my village had been occupied by Druids,” Peter said softly. He wiped at his nose and blew out a deep breath. “They used to come often and heal the sick. They would assist the harvests to grow in bad years as well.”

 
“So?”

  “The more I told ye where the Druids were, the fewer of them came. The sick stayed sick. Bad harvests didn’t grow. The village went from thriving to dying in a matter of decades.”

  Dunmore laughed and dropped his hands. “Just what I wanted to hear. You were doing your duty, Peter. And were rewarded handsomely.”

  Peter’s gaze dropped to the ground and he turned away. Dunmore was no fool. Something else had happened.

  “I need the location of at least one Druid, Peter. I’ll take you with me as a reward this time. You can live in the mountain with us and rejoice in our victories. No more hunger, no more cold nights.”

  Peter shook his head so vigorously that he nearly toppled over. “Nay. I cannot.”

  “Cannot or will not?” Dunmore demanded. “You were willing before. So what if the village tossed you out? I will give you all that you dream.”

  Peter stepped into his hut and slammed the door. “They’ll kill me,” he screamed through the wooden door. “The Druids saved me as a child from a fever that took me two brothers. They saved me, and I betrayed them.”

  “What you doona want to do is betray me now, Peter.” Dunmore ground his teeth together. He’d have to beat more information out of someone today. Not that he minded. He had always found great pleasure is bringing others pain.

  “Go away,” Peter yelled. “I willna tell ye anything else.”

  Dunmore walked to the cottage. He kicked open the door and stepped over the threshold. He scanned the small hut with one glance. It reeked of urine and something rotting.

  Peter was huddled in a corner shaking. Dunmore grabbed him by the collar and jerked him forward. Peter was tall but weighed nothing, so it was easy for Dunmore to haul him outside.

  Dunmore tossed Peter to the ground and smiled when he heard Peter wince and curl onto his side. “I’m just beginning, Peter. You’ve seen me beat others to death before. Doona think I’ll spare you.”

  “What ye’ll do to me is nothing compared to what the others will do.”

  Dunmore was growing tired of this. “What others? The Druids? They’re running for their lives, Peter. They doona have time to worry of your stinking flesh.”

  “Nay. They keep watch on me.”

  Dunmore motioned with his hand to tell the wyrran to take a look around and bring back anyone they found. If there was someone out there the wyrran would find them. Until then, he’d get what he needed from Peter.

  An hour later Peter was dead. Dunmore cursed and kicked him in the gut. Peter had been so malnourished that with the first punch Dunmore had broken his ribs. No matter what Dunmore did to him or promised him, Peter would tell him nothing.

  Dunmore growled his annoyance. He would not fail Deirdre, not now, not when she needed him.

  The wyrran returned, their big yellow eyes watching him soberly. They were empty-handed as well. Peter had been terrified for nothing. And Dunmore didn’t have a location on a Druid.

  He grabbed the reins to his horse and jumped onto his back. He didn’t have time to waste. He’d return to all the places where he’d found Druids before. There had to be one foolish enough to think they were safe.

  As Dunmore rode away with the wyrran behind him, he never saw the falcon that watched from high in the trees.

  *

  Hayden bristled as he watched Ian and Isla enter the great hall deep in conversation. Once again Isla said something to make Ian chuckle, which only angered Hayden all the more.

  He had been the one to awaken Isla’s passion. He had been the first one to taste her decadent body. Yet she had never tried to make him smile.

  You never gave her reason to.

  Hayden growled, hating his conscience at that moment.

  “If looks could kill,” Camdyn mumbled from beside him.

  Hayden glanced at the Warrior. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

  “It means exactly what he said,” Malcolm said.

  Hayden glared at the only mortal man at MacLeod Castle. He respected Malcolm for putting his life on the line for their cause, but he didn’t like anyone poking their nose in his business.

  Duncan smiled, clearly enjoying Hayden’s distress. “Are you envious of my brother, Hayden? I didna think you could get away from that drough fast enough.”

  “She has a name,” Hayden ground out.

  Duncan snorted derisively. “What do you care?”

  Hayden stood as Ian walked to his brother’s side. Hayden knew he couldn’t sit across from Ian and not punch him. He could smell Isla’s snow and wild pansy scent on Ian, and it sent Hayden’s blood to boiling.

  He strode from the great hall and didn’t look back. He’d eat later once the evening meal was over. Besides, someone needed to keep watch over the castle.

  Hayden settled himself on the battlements near one of the crumbling merlons and tried to clear his thoughts. Fallon had taken most of the guards off rotating duty, and the castle was down to just a few. Isla’s shield allowed them to do things other than stand watch.

  He gazed at the sky with its vibrant colors of orange and bronze and purple as the sun descended. Pinpricks of light began to show in the darkening sky as the moon awoke and took her place in the heavens.

  It was Hayden’s favorite time of day. The world was going to sleep while a different world began to awaken. There was a moment between when the sun set and night took over where everything was gray and quiet.

  It was usually a peaceful time, but once again all Hayden could think about was Isla and the turmoil that was now his life.

  How he could want someone so fiercely who was everything he hated? It didn’t seem right that fate should give him something like this when he was doing everything he could to stop evil from taking over the world.

  Maybe it was his punishment for killing so many droughs. He hadn’t murdered them, though. He had given them a fair chance at defeating him, and with their magic, many had nearly succeeded. But it was his need for vengeance that drove him onward.

  How many years had he walked Scotland searching for droughs? He hadn’t ever stopped to wonder if they had families. All he had been concerned about was the evil inside them.

  Looking back, he wondered if he’d done the right thing. What if he’d killed Isla on one of his many rampages? He’d never have known the feel of her lush body or enticing lips. His emotions wouldn’t be tied in knots right now either.

  He turned and lifted his face to Isla’s tower. He’d see the light from her window whenever she lit the candle. He intended to have a few words with her.

  If he hadn’t felt the obstruction of her hymen himself he’d think she’d been lying about being with other men. But he had pierced that barrier, had seen her blood with his own eyes.

  You claimed her. She’s yours to do with as you please.

  Hayden knew that wasn’t true, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to confront her, to lay claim to her body once more despite how wrong it was. He’d never had the need to take a woman regardless of the consequences, regardless of who she was. It alarmed him, but his hunger for her overshadowed everything else.

  The castle door opened and drew his attention. He watched as Fallon, Lucan, and Quinn walked into the bailey. They stopped in the center and faced each other, their faces solemn and set.

  “I’ll go hunting tomorrow,” Quinn said.

  Fallon nodded. “Take Duncan with you. I think he may need a bit of time away.”

  “I agree. His anger at what happened to Ian hasn’t diminished as I’d hoped it would. It’s only been a few days, but I’m worried.”

  “Talk to him,” Lucan said. “Have Ian talk to him as well. The last thing we need is two Warriors on the edge.”

  Fallon crossed his arms over his chest and shifted feet. “I agree that Hayden has always been a wee bit intense in battle, but we all are. Just because he became angry at Ian doesn’t mean anything.”

  “It means a lot,” Quinn said, his voice sounding weary.

  “Hay
den’s problem is Isla. We all know that.” Lucan looked from Fallon to Quinn.

  Fallon lifted a shoulder. “If Isla has her way, Hayden willna have a problem for long.”

  “Ah, doona start,” Quinn said and ran a hand through his dark hair. “It’s all Marcail will talk about. She’s not happy we pledged to do as Isla asked. She thinks there has to be another way.”

  “If there was another way, Isla would have found it,” Lucan pointed out.

  Fallon held up a hand when Quinn began to speak. “You aren’t saying anything we didn’t say to Isla, Quinn. She asked for our pledge and we gave it. All we can do now is pray that Deirdre stays in her weakened state and that Logan and Galen find the artifact.”

  “And that it somehow works to break Deirdre’s hold,” Quinn added.

  Lucan sighed. “Aye. It’s no wonder Isla feels as if the odds are stacked against her. They are.”

  “At least Ian is proving to be someone she can talk to,” Fallon said. “She needs someone she can lean on, even if she doesn’t realize that’s what she’s doing.”

  “Marcail made a good choice.” Lucan smiled at his brothers.

  Quinn turned back to the castle. “Speaking of my wife, she said Isla made more of those pastries. Marcail has a sweet tooth, it seems.”

  Fallon slapped Quinn on the back as they started toward the castle steps. “You just want to make sure you have your share of pastries before Marcail eats them all.”

  “I think she is going to give Galen a run for his money on the food around here,” Lucan said with a laugh before they entered the castle.

  Hayden blew out a breath as his mind struggled to process all that he’d heard. Just what had Isla made the brothers promise? He feared he already knew what it was, and he’d be damned if he let anyone take her head.

  It seemed an eternity before he saw the flicker of light from her window. Hayden didn’t hesitate to unleash his god and vault onto the side of the castle. He climbed his way up to the tower and stood in her window.

  He paused, content to watch her without her notice. She looked miserable and exhausted. She looked lonely.