Awaken the Highland Warrior

by Anita Clenney

  She reached back, clutching his thigh as he slipped inside, one slow inch at a time, until their bodies were joined. He pulled her against his chest, holding them both still. His teeth scraped her ear. Steadying her hip with one hand, he pulled out slowly, and then slid in again. Two strokes, three, and she was ready to fall.

  His fingers dug into her hip as he moved faster, driving in, pulling out… then nothing. He was gone. She turned, but he was already pushing her onto her back. He lowered his body between her thighs, and locking eyes with hers, he entered again. His mouth covered hers, and on the second stroke she exploded, lips open against his, her heart crying words she had no right to feel.

  Still inside her, he rose to his knees and wrapped both hands high around her thighs, eyes glittering as he watched their joining. He groaned and dropped back down to her, body against body, still, except for the throbbing inside as he emptied himself into her.

  They lay quietly, the only movement the fast rise and fall of chest against breasts, and Faelan’s breath warm at her ear. He dropped a gentle kiss on her brow, her cheek, and finally her lips. He slipped out and gathered her in his arms, snug against him. She lay with her head on his chest, her leg resting on his hip, listening to the beat of his heart, and she knew it was where she belonged. She’d met him only days ago, yet she trusted him more than anyone she’d ever known. If the world was ending, which it might well be, he would be the one she’d run to.

  But what about him and her? Would he want to stay here? Would she have to leave?

  “Are you okay?” Faelan asked.

  She nodded, too sated to move, even to clean up.

  “You’re quiet,” he said, gently stroking her arm.

  It was hard to speak, with her heart so overwhelmed. “I’m worried,” she said, deciding to share the lesser of her concerns.

  “About what?”

  “Tomorrow I’m going to have to tell everyone about Russell. How he deceived me.”

  “You needn’t worry about that. They’ve all faced deception, in one manner or another.”

  She felt his even breathing and thought he was asleep, until he spoke again.

  “I had a brother. Liam. He was two. Tavis, Ian, and I were keeping an eye on him while my father was having a sword repaired. We were in the village playing marbles outside the blacksmith’s shop. We got busy and didn’t realize Liam had wandered off. Then we saw a man leading him away. I chased them. Tavis followed me. Ian went to get my father. The man grabbed Liam and ran. When he turned, I could see he wasn’t a man. He was a demon. He let me get close enough to taunt me, then he dangled Liam over an old well. I was the closest, just on the other side of the well. Tavis was a few steps behind me. The demon laughed and dropped Liam. I grabbed for him. Caught his hand. I tried… but I couldn’t hold him. He was screaming and wiggling, and my hands were sweaty. My father came running, but it was too late. He climbed down, but Liam was already dead.”

  “Oh, Faelan.” Now she understood why he was so protective. Bree turned and wrapped her arms tighter around him, resting her head on his chest. Her face tingled where it pressed against his battle marks. “I’m so sorry. How old were you?”

  “Seven. That’s why we moved to Philadelphia. We didn’t come back until my father thought it was safe.”

  “What happened to the demon?”

  “He ran as soon as he dropped Liam. We never found him. Never knew who he was. I dream about it sometimes. There was something about the demon…” Faelan sighed. “But I can’t rightly place it. I can’t see his face. All I can see is Liam screaming.” Faelan ran his hand hard across his eyes. “It was my fault. If I’d been watching him…”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” But that was like telling the waves to stop crashing. At least he had memories of his brother. She hadn’t even had a chance to know her sister.

  He pulled her closer, holding her too tight, and in minutes, he was asleep. His hold on her relaxed, and Bree lay there, aching inside for the little boy who’d watched his brother die, believing it was his fault, and grown into a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. And now he was trying to save the entire human race. Whether he knew it or not, he needed her. She couldn’t fight her feelings anymore.

  He’d hidden things from her, but he hadn’t outright lied. He’d had to be certain she could be trusted. So what if he was a warrior born in another century? Did it matter in the long run? He was here now. There was no way back. He was honorable, and he loved his family. That was a plus. Except for his lovely cousin. And there was something about him that made her feel as though she’d found the one thing she had searched for all her life.

  She would accept whatever he would give, make the most of the time they had. After her heartbeat calmed, she slept. In the early hours of morning, she woke, still snuggled close to him. She’d dreamt of making love to him again. She wiggled closer, and he murmured her name, tightening his arms around her. Bree ran her hand over his chest, and the muscles quivered in his sleep. She worked her way down his flat stomach, dragging her fingers through the arrow of hair until she met firm, hard flesh. His body tensed as he woke.

  “Mmmm.”

  Her hand slid lower, detouring over his thighs before coming back to the parts that made him groan. He started to turn, but before he could move, she climbed on top, sitting astride him, knees digging into the mattress. She rubbed against him until his breath grew ragged. He clutched her hips and tried to lift her, but she snared his hands and planted them on her breasts. He groaned again, hands kneading, hips thrusting. “Have a care, lass. I’m dying here.”

  She smiled and let go of his hands. He lifted her hips, impaling her body on his.

  ***

  “They died the year I was suspended?”

  Sean sighed and folded his hands. “I didn’t want to ruin your homecoming with sadness.”

  “How did they die?” Faelan asked. “Tavis’s gravestone said he was buried at sea.”

  “There was a shipwreck on the way home.”

  “From America? From coming to help me?”

  Sean nodded.

  Tavis had died trying to save him. Faelan had to swallow before he could speak. “Ian?”

  “He survived, but your father died around the time Tavis did.”

  “How?”

  Sean lowered his gaze. “There was heavy fighting after Druan’s virus was destroyed. The Underworld was in chaos. Even retired warriors were caught in the battle.”

  His whole family had paid for his failure. His whole clan. The whole world. He wouldn’t let her suffer, too. She wasn’t even his.

  ***

  Bree hid behind a rosebush, watching Faelan race across the field beside a huge black stallion, a descendent of Nandor. The horse must be holding back, because they ran neck and neck for the length of the field. At the end, they slowed. Faelan swung onto the stallion’s back, and the horse reared, front paws dancing in the air. Faelan threw back his head and gave a fierce shout that sent shivers through Bree’s body. The stallion lunged forward, and horse and rider galloped like the wind, hair and mane flying, melded together, man and beast, an image she’d take to her grave.

  She watched as he brought the horse toward the stable, shading her eyes from the midday sun. “Hi,” she said, stepping onto the path. She blushed, thinking about last night. He hadn’t talked to her all day. If there hadn’t been so much activity at the castle, warriors arriving every few minutes, she would have thought he was avoiding her.

  He frowned and jumped off the horse, affording her a good look at his kilt-clad legs. He led the horse past her without a glance.

  “That was amazing,” Bree said to the back of his head.

  “I have to take care of the horse.” He picked up a bucket of brushes and kept walking, leaving her gaping after him. Not even a hello, how are you, did you sleep well after I spent my body in yours? Mr. Hyde was back.

  Had she been too bold last night? Was he just preoccupied? Confused, she
turned and trudged toward the house. She looked back once and saw him staring at her. She knew that frown. She’d worn it many times herself. It wasn’t preoccupation. It was regret.

  Sean’s wife, Coira, was in the kitchen, trying to pull a man away from her stove.

  “Come join us, Bree,” she said, voice tinkling with laughter. “Rescue me from this rogue.” She swatted the man with her dish towel, and he turned. He was stunning—weren’t they all? Tall, muscular, dark hair a little lighter than Faelan’s, and he was wearing a kilt. “This is Ronan. He’s Faelan’s… let’s see… great-great-great-nephew on his brother Ian’s side. Is that right? Oh, well, Ronan, meet Bree. She’s the one who brought Faelan home to us.”

  “Bree, huh? You’ve caused quite a bree.”

  “In Gaelic, that means a great disturbance,” Coira explained.

  Ronan moved forward, lithe as a tiger, and took her hand. “Nice to meet you, Bree. Ah, sorry,” he said pulling back. “Bacon grease. Coira’s kindly fixing me breakfast for lunch.” He snagged Coira’s towel and wiped Bree’s hand first, then his own, leaving her breathless.

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  “We’ll be forever grateful for what you’ve done. In fact, I’d say the entire planet is indebted to you. Not that they’ll ever know.”

  “I have to admit it was an accident,” she said politely, her thoughts still with Faelan.

  “So you were searching for treasure and found the Mighty Faelan instead?” He smiled. “I hope you’re ready for fame. They’ll be telling this story for generations to come.”

  Fame? She’d always been obsessed with legends, now she would become part of Faelan’s. Her story would be told and passed down, and someday, maybe a hundred and fifty years from now, someone would stumble across it and wonder if such a thing could happen.

  “Ronan just got back from Ireland.” Coira turned the bacon sizzling in the pan.

  “You’re a warrior?” Bree asked.

  Something dark flashed behind his eyes, fading just as fast. “Until something persuades me otherwise.” He grinned mischievously and leaned closer.

  “If he stares into your eyes, ignore him. He knows it’s too soon.”

  “Too soon for what?” Bree asked.

  “To find his mate.”

  “You think you’ll find her by looking into a woman’s eyes?” Bree smiled, their frivolous banter soothing her gloomy mood.

  “They know their mates at first sight.” Coira pinched Ronan’s arm lightly as she passed. “She must be from one of the clans, Ronan, you know that. It’s an excuse for him to look at bonny lasses,” she told Bree. “If he actually saw the sign, he’d run so fast there’d be no catching him. There was that one cousin from England. He stared at that lass every time he saw her, even knowing he wouldn’t see anything.” She gave Ronan a mild disapproving look. “I doubt it stopped him.”

  Ronan’s grin turned wicked, and Bree doubted it had either. “At first sight?” she asked, confused.

  “Aye,” Coira said. “They know their mates as soon as they see them, in most cases, usually after their duty is finished, when they go on a different kind of hunt altogether, for a mate, not a demon. It’s always a distant cousin or someone from another clan.”

  “Why?”

  “Warriors can’t marry outsiders,” Coira said. “It’s clan law. We have to keep the lines pure. There’s too much at stake.”

  Ronan smiled. “We don’t have to worry about divorce.”

  Bree’s head rattled as if she’d head-butted Coira’s iron skillet. She struggled to keep her voice light. Faelan had known all along nothing could come of this thing between them and never once bothered to mention it.

  Ronan grinned and leaned closer. “But one never knows where a distant cousin might turn up.”

  Faelan came in and found them that way, Ronan’s hands on either side of Bree’s face, noses so close they were almost touching. Faelan’s face looked as volatile as a thundercloud. Served him right, with Sorcha hanging all over him like a cat in heat, when he wouldn’t give Bree the time of day.

  “You must be Faelan.” Ronan reached for Faelan’s hand and then clapped him on both shoulders. “Welcome home, brother. You’re a legend here, you know. Not one that most believed, but a legend, nevertheless. I’ve just got back from Ireland. I can help you battle Druan. We’d wondered where he was lurking these days. If you have the time, I want to hear this fantastic tale.”

  ***

  Tension filled the air as warriors gathered from near and far. The friendly homecoming was over. It was time to focus on the mission the clan had carried out since the beginning of time, protecting the world. A world most people—including Bree, until a few days ago—didn’t know needed saving. Keeping their normal, unenlightened lives safe from demons running around disguised as their neighbors, co-workers, and friends. Bree had learned demons were responsible for most of the diseases and viruses she’d always considered an ugly part of life. Wars, famine, natural disasters, all orchestrated from hell. It was as if her entire existence until now had been lived in a vacuum.

  Ronan fell in step as she walked toward the library. “You look a bit nervous.”

  “Are you kidding? I have to walk in there and tell them what I know about Russell. How many people can say they’ve been engaged to a demon?”

  “More than you’d think.” He stepped aside and allowed her to enter first, then whispered close to her ear, “Don’t they say you should picture people in their underwear?” He glanced around the room, where most of the warriors, including Ronan, wore kilts. “Guess you’ll have to picture them without…” He gave her a devilish wink. Bree ignored Faelan’s brooding stare and politely refused Ronan’s offer to find her a place to sit. He squeezed her shoulder and moved to the back of the room. Still smiling, her gaze connected with Faelan’s. Something akin to despair crossed his face before he glanced away. What had happened? If she hadn’t seen him in the darkened room and smelled his intoxicating scent, she’d have thought someone else had slipped into her bed and ravished her.

  Several times now he’d made love to her without protection, although she initiated the last. It seemed out of character for him, with his sense of propriety, to risk having a child with a woman he could never marry.

  The room had already filled with warriors, all male, except for Sorcha. Bree hadn’t met any other female warriors yet. She’d learned they were far fewer than male warriors. The house had been bustling all day with arrivals, some coming after news of Faelan, but others already en route because of Bree’s call so soon after Angus’s message.

  She took one of the few empty seats near the blazing fire, settling between Tomas and Brodie, the warriors she and Faelan had met when they first arrived. Brodie glanced over, and his sheepish grin confirmed a man’s suspicion that he was the one who’d gotten her drunk. Both warriors were tall and strong, with ready smiles, but underneath the charm lay deadly skill.

  Faelan sat on a large leather sofa between Shane and Niall, warriors descended from Faelan’s sister, Alana. Niall, with a golden buzz cut and arms as big as a man’s thighs, looked like he could take on an army by himself. Shane was tall and slim, quiet but alert.

  There must be some unwritten code that warriors be gorgeous or beautiful, Bree thought, looking at Sorcha lounging on an oversized leather love seat, flirting with Jamie, a warrior who’d just arrived. Maybe the warriors’ beauty was part of their defense, luring the demons until they could get close enough to grab them.

  They all wore talismans, some Bree could see, some hidden by their shirts. The talismans were all similar, made out of the same metal, held on a thin leather cord, except Sorcha’s, which she wore on a chain. And they were all armed, despite being in a castle in the middle of hundreds of acres, surrounded by well-trained guards.

  Bree was included in the meeting, since she was the one who’d known Druan best in his human form and the one who freed Faelan. Sean introduced Faelan and Bree to the warrio
rs they hadn’t met then turned the meeting over to Faelan, who explained to those who hadn’t heard, how he discovered the war Druan was trying to incite was a cover for his virus. He told of the night he’d planned to put Druan in the time vault, pausing to clear his throat when he spoke about the urgency, not having time to wait for his brothers.

  Bree would have thought these warriors had seen almost everything, but not a sound was uttered. Even the ones honing and polishing weapons sat spellbound as Faelan described seeing the other three demons of old riding with Druan, how he’d felt the blow to his head, then awoke what he thought was a moment later to Bree’s shocked gaze and found himself in another time.

  Curious faces turned to her, and she saw almost everyone in the house, even those who weren’t warriors, had crowded around the door listening to his story. There must have been a dozen questions at once, everyone wanting to know about the legendary demons, why Faelan hadn’t been killed, why he’d been sent alone.

  Conall, a young warrior who couldn’t be a day over twenty, asked her with a gentle smile, “How did you know where Faelan was hidden?”

  Bree faced the room of warriors and opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Ronan coughed once, and when she looked at him, he waggled the bottom of his kilt and winked. Bree couldn’t help smiling. From the corner of her eye, she saw Faelan glance at Ronan and frown. She wouldn’t dare think of Faelan’s kilt. She knew all too well what was under there.

  “I found my great-great-grandmother’s journal. She wrote about a visitor who thought there was a lost treasure hidden nearby. We know now he was someone the clan sent. I’d also found the map he drew. When I saw the crypt was missing on the map, I knew it was important. I think I’ve always known that crypt was special. It’s haunted me since I was a child.”

  “Has it now?” Sean asked, watching her.

  “I’ve always found it… disturbing.” An image formed in her mind, a little girl reaching for the burial vault with bloody hands. Bree pushed the thought away and focused, describing how she’d believed the missing treasure was hidden inside the burial vault and discovered the locked chest. The three days she spent trying to open it, and the shock of finding Faelan. She then talked about the dreaded part. Russell. How charming he’d been, how dark and disturbing he became at the end. It was embarrassing to admit to these brave warriors that she’d been engaged to a demon, but they needed to know if they were going to fight this battle.