by Donna Grant
“There’s one thing, though. Jason and I made a pact through magic. He swore he wouldn’t hurt Andy if I did as he asked. Does that pact still apply?”
Arran’s shrugged and turned her toward the castle. “I doubt it, since he used magic to make you think Andy was there. But that’s a worry for another day. This day is ours.”
“Just this day?” she asked with a teasing smile.
When he looked down at her, the love shining in his eyes brought tears to hers. “Nay. I want you beside me forever.”
“I don’t think I can live here, Arran. The thought appeals to me because the magic of Isla’s shield would stop my aging. But I’m an archeologist. I move around.”
He winked at her before sweeping his arm across the land. “This has been untouched for over seven hundred years. There was a mighty clan here once, and a thriving village. I wonder what you could find.”
The thought of looking over virgin land intrigued her. “Do you think the MacLeods would allow it?”
“I’m certain they’d make a concession for my wife.”
She jerked her gaze to him, her heart in her throat. “Your wife?”
“Aye,” he said softly. “Would you marry me, Dr. Reid?”
She threw her arms around his neck. Her heart was about to burst from her chest, she was so happy. “Yes. Oh, yes!”
CHAPTER
FORTY-FIVE
Jason gripped the arms of his chair, the wood cracking beneath his hold. His clothes were soaked with blood. His blood.
The plan he’d formulated so carefully in his mind had gone to shit all too easily. There was no way the Warriors should have been able to break the hold of his Druids. Their black magic was powerful.
Yet, that’s exactly what the Warriors had done.
“Oww,” Jason yelped as Aisley cleaned his wound.
Her eyes were dilated and her face pale. Dale had said she had a concussion, but Jason didn’t care. If she’d been conscious and using her magic, the Warriors wouldn’t have gotten free.
“Be still,” Aisley said. “If you keep moving, it’s going to keep hurting.”
“Let me slice open your jaw and throat with five gashes and tell me if it doesna hurt to breathe,” he said between clenched teeth.
Dale walked into the house. “The area is secure. The Druids we managed to save are setting up spells to keep everyone out.”
Jason was glad he had discovered the hunting lodge that belonged to the Wallaces. It hadn’t been used in decades, but he’d seen a place he could hide if need be, so he’d promptly had it made ready.
And a good thing that he had.
“I need to find a Druid who’s a healer like the one the MacLeods have,” Jason said as he watched Aisley thread the needle she was going to use to stitch him.
Dale leaned against the huge stone hearth. “That would have saved two of the droughs who died on the way here. I’m sure there were others we left behind that were wounded and could’ve been saved.”
“Then they should have followed us. And where is Mindy?”
“She’ll be here soon, I’m sure,” Aisley said.
Jason narrowed his gaze on Aisley. “And how did you manage to get out since you were unconscious?”
“I carried her,” Dale answered.
Jason looked from Aisley to Dale and back to Aisley. “Is there something going on between the two of you?”
“No,” Dale said. “She’s your family. I grabbed her because I didna think you wanted family left behind.”
Jason studied the Warrior. Dale could be telling the truth, or there could very well be something going on between his cousin and Dale. “Then I offer my gratitude.”
Dale gave a slight bow of his head. “Two of the Druids went for food and medicine to help dull your pain. They should return shortly.”
“My magic will dull my pain.” Jason waited until Dale was gone before he said, “You owe him your life, cousin.”
“I know,” Aisley replied softly, and poured rubbing alcohol on the needle before sticking it over the flame of a candle.
It grated his nerves that as great as his magic was, he couldn’t heal the wounds made by a Warrior. “Do you care for Dale?”
Aisley met his gaze, her dark eyes emotionless. “He did what he was supposed to do. What is there to care about?”
“That’s my girl,” Jason said with a half smile that ended in a cringe.
He didn’t want Aisley to be indebted to anyone but him. If she was, then that would change everything.
“Ready?” she asked.
Jason took a deep breath and slowly released it as he gave a nod. The first prick of the needle in his skin was nothing compared to the slide of the thread through the wound.
When he found Arran and the rest of the Warriors, he was going to put them through pain unlike anything they had experienced before. But he would have something special for Arran and Ronnie.
He’d mark Ronnie’s body as Arran had scarred him. And then he would make Arran watch as his Warriors took Ronnie again and again. There were ways he could extend Arran’s pain for years.
And that’s exactly what he was going to do.
“What’s our next move?” Aisley asked.
Jason cackled. “Oh, my dear, it was put into place days ago. They’ll never see it coming.”
CHAPTER
FORTY-SIX
Arran leaned against the Range Rover as he watched Ronnie stand in the middle of the dig site. It had taken him and the others a few hours to clean things up, thanks to Andy’s help directing them.
Now, Ronnie stood with her eyes closed and her magic swirling around her. It made his cock hard to feel her magic run over his skin like silk. She had no idea of her allure or her beauty, which made her all the more beautiful and special.
They’d barely had an hour at the castle, and then only fifteen minutes alone. But they’d made the most of those fifteen in the cottage he’d claimed as his.
There hadn’t been a need for a bed. There had been no slow hands, or soft kisses. Their lovemaking had been needy. Frantic.
Fierce.
He smiled every time he thought about how he’d pushed her against the wall and wrapped her legs around his waist. And then he’d sunk into her wet heat.
Their need had been too overwhelming and hungry to be denied. It had come at them quickly, and there had been no putting off their climaxes.
“Do you think Ronnie will ever stop blushing from you having to come to the castle to get her more clothes?” Ian asked.
Arran rubbed his chin as he thought of Ronnie. None of her clothes had survived his hands as he’d torn them off her. Ronnie had been mortified that he’d gotten her more clothes, but she’d asked how soon they could get back to the cottage.
“Where will she look for artifacts next?” Galen asked.
Arran pushed off the SUV when he felt a change in Ronnie’s magic. “I’ve no’ asked.”
“What is it?”
Arran shrugged. “There’s something wrong.”
Suddenly Ronnie’s gaze turned to him. She mouthed his name and he was by her side in an instant.
“What’s wrong?”
“I feel something. Here,” she said, and pointed to the ground below her feet.
Arran waved Camdyn over. “Ronnie feels something in the ground. Can you bring it up for us?”
Camdyn grinned. “Of course.”
Ronnie slid her hand into Arran’s as they waited while Camdyn used his power to shift the earth until a piece of stone the size of Arran’s palm was revealed.
He gazed at it while Ronnie took it, turning it one way and then the other. The stone looked familiar, as if Arran had seen it recently.
“It looks like it’s from a piece of something.”
Arran shouted for Fallon before he turned to her and Camdyn and said, “Because it is.”
Ronnie grew nervous when Arran ran to Fallon and spoke quietly before he rushed back to her. “What is it?”<
br />
“Just wait,” Arran said.
“I’m not a patient woman.”
“That, lass, I learned early on.”
They shared a knowing look when Fallon suddenly appeared beside them, the stone that had the prophecy chiseled on it in his hands.
She took a step back, but it was Arran’s hand on her back that halted her.
“Trust me,” he urged.
Ronnie didn’t need to be told twice. She forced herself to look at the prophecy that had changed her life. “This new piece looks as if it belongs, but there’s nowhere on the stone that shows it had been broken off.”
Fallon narrowed his gaze. “I’d agree with Ronnie, but there’s something about this stone.”
“Aye,” Camdyn said quietly.
Arran took the two broken pieces from Fallon and held them in front of Ronnie. “Hold the broken piece over them. I think that somehow you’re involved with this. If this prophecy is about you, then the piece you have belongs with it.”
Ronnie looked at the knotwork on the small piece in her hand. “Granted, it is the same workmanship, but I just don’t see—”
“Magic, lass,” Arran whispered. “Trust in it.”
Ronnie had questioned him before and paid a steep price. She wasn’t going to question him again.
She licked her lips and held the piece over the stone tablet. Something warm and electric zinged through the arm that held the broken piece.
Her gaze flashed to Arran’s to see he’d felt the magic as well. Fallon took a step back while Camdyn peered closer at it.
“Arran…”
“Trust it.”
She closed her eyes then and gave herself up to the magic that was calling her. Something strong and magical surged from the stone in a flood of light as bright as the sun and in a rainbow of colors. It rose straight to the clouds before doubling back on itself and slamming into Ronnie.
She sucked in a breath at the sweet sound of chanting and drums she heard as if from far, far away. She tried to reach out to them, but she couldn’t get close enough.
As suddenly as it had come, it was gone.
Ronnie opened her eyes to find the stone in her hand gone. She looked at the tablet to see it melding all three parts together.
“I’ll be damned,” Camdyn murmured.
Arran turned the now solid piece of the tablet around. “There’s more to the prophecy now.”
“Well?” Ronnie urged.
“It says,” he paused to read. Then his gaze locked with hers.
“Arran,” she said, another queasy feeling beginning in her stomach. “Did I do something bad again?”
Camdyn took the tablet and read. “Nay, Ronnie. It appears as if you’ve ended the prophecy. It says here that the Druid, with the love of a man-god, has the strength to stand firm against the new darkness.”
Fallon lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It seems, Ronnie, that by finding this missing section, you have indeed ended the prophecy.”
“Thank God,” she said as Arran enfolded her in his arms.
They stayed that way for several minutes until a thought took root. Ronnie pulled out of his arms and asked, “Does it say how Jason can be ended once and for all?”
“Nay,” Camdyn said. “That it doesna. Have faith, though. We killed Deirdre and Declan. We’ll get Jason as well.”
With a grin, Fallon walked away, Camdyn on his heels, the tablet tucked beneath his arms.
“That’s a load off my shoulders,” she said.
“I knew there was more magic I felt. I’m glad we came back. Now you can concentrate on becoming my wife.”
Ronnie forgot all about the tablet and prophecy as her mind turned to her upcoming wedding and being in the arms of the man of her dreams.
“Fallon!” Arran called.
She barely had time to look at the dig site one last time before she was inside MacLeod Castle.
“Arran, you got a call from some old man from Edinburgh. He said you’d know what it was about!” Reaghan shouted from the kitchen.
Arran kissed Ronnie quickly on the forehead and rushed to the kitchen. “Did he leave a message?” he asked Reaghan.
“He did,” she said, and shoved a strand of auburn hair from her face. “He said the Druids you need to be looking for came from the Isle of Skye.”
Galen slapped him on the back. “You were right about the old man. He’s going to be a good resource, I think.”
Ronnie shoved past them and started talking to the women about what had happened at the dig site.
“There’s been no sightings that I’ve found of the selmyr,” Gwynn said as she came into the kitchen from the outside herb garden.
“That’s good news, right?” Cara asked.
Arran traded looks with Hayden. “It could be,” he answered.
“Oh,” Gwynn said. “But I did do some research into that Web site Ronnie found regarding the story of the Celts and Warriors. The owner hid her information well, but not well enough. Her name is Evangeline Walker, and she lives in Britain somewhere.”
The information settled in Arran’s head, but before he could talk more about it, the women took Ronnie and they disappeared out of the castle.
“Doona try to go after them,” Ian said with a laugh. “Dani has spoken of nothing but the wedding since you announced it.”
A wedding. His wedding.
Arran smiled and looked to the men who he considered his brothers. “I’m getting married!”
“No’ for another couple of days,” Lucan said as he took Arran’s shoulders. “The women have their things to do. And so do we.”
There was shouting all around him, and Arran had time to look out the kitchen window to find Ronnie staring at him before Fallon jumped the women from the castle.
EPILOGUE
Arran couldn’t stop smiling. It had been a glorious week. Not only had the Druids welcomed Ronnie with open arms, as he’d known they would, they had also quickly shown her how to harness her magic.
As great as it had been to have Ronnie with him, it was nothing compared to making her his wife. The wedding had been hastily thrown together, and no matter how many times Arran offered to give her a lavish wedding, Ronnie had insisted she wanted something small and private.
So they had exchanged vows at the chapel in the castle with everyone from the castle and Andy. Thankfully, the preacher had welcomed the donation to his parish in exchange for being blindfolded and brought to the castle.
Ronnie had never looked so gorgeous as in her off white gown, which had hugged her curves. The gown looked even lovelier puddled on the floor by the bed.
“What are you grinning at?” Ronnie asked as she rolled over to lay on his chest.
“Ah, I’m just remembering how nice you’d looked in your wedding gown, but I much preferred getting you out of it.”
She lightly nipped his shoulder. “Just like a man.”
He rolled her to her back and leaned over her. “Nay. Like your husband.”
“Well, husband,” she said softly, “are we going to talk all night?”
Arran bent to kiss his wife, his cock hardening at the thought of claiming her again. Ronnie was his. Now and forever, their souls melded together.
But ever in the back of his mind was Wallace. They could only hide away so long before the next battle began.
“No dark thoughts,” she mumbled between his kisses.
“Nay. Only thoughts of you.”
“Of us,” she corrected.
Arran claimed her mouth and let all the worries and dark thoughts leave him while he was in Ronnie’s arms. There would be time enough to face the new evil.
Until then, he was going to love his wife over and over.
“I love you,” he whispered as he thrust inside her.
Her answering kiss was all he needed.
ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS TITLES BY
DONNA GRANT
THE DARK SWORD SERIES
Dangerous Highlander
<
br /> Forbidden Highlander
Wicked Highlander
Untamed Highlander
Shadow Highlander
Darkest Highlander
THE DARK WARRIOR SERIES
Midnight’s Master
Midnight’s Lover
Midnight’s Seduction
Midnight’s Warrior
Midnight’s Kiss
THE DARK KING SERIES
(e-book series)
Dark Craving
Night’s Awakening
Dawn’s Desire
Praise for
DONNA GRANT
THE DARK WARRIORS SERIES
“Paranormal elements and scorching romance are cleverly intertwined in this tale of a damaged hero and a resilient heroine.”
—Publishers Weekly on Midnight’s Lover
THE DARK SWORD SERIES
5 Tombstones! “Another fantastic series that melds the paranormal with the historical life of the Scottish highlander in this arousing and exciting adventure. The men of MacLeod Castle are a delicious combination of devoted brother, loyal highlander, Lord and demonic God that ooze sex appeal and inspire some very erotic daydreams as they face their faults and accept their fate.”
— Bitten By Books
4 Stars! “Grant creates a vivid picture of Britain centuries after the Celts and Druids tried to expel the Romans, deftly merging magic and history. The result is a wonderfully dark, delightfully well-written tale. Readers will eagerly await the next Dark Sword book.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
4 Hoots! “These are some of the hottest brothers around in paranormal fiction.”
—Nocturne Romance Reads
5 Top Picks! “An absolutely must-read! From beginning to end, it’s an incredible ride.”
—Night Owl Romance
5 Hearts! “I definitely recommend Dangerous Highlander, even to skeptics of paranormal romance—you just may fall in love with the MacLeods.”
—The Romance Reader
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
