Highland Hunger Bundle with Yours for Eternity & Highland Beast

by Hannah Howell

  “Your clan is truly weel prepared for all things, isnae it,” she said as she led the mare to the back of the cave where Gybbon already tended to his horse.

  “Aye. Unfortunately it does mean that we cannae always take the most direct route when we do travel.” Gybbon grimaced. “An inn or the hospitality of some laird’s keep isnae for us. Caves, weel-hidden shielings, e’en holes in the ground. There is even a crypt or two.”

  “Better to rest among the dead than to join them.”

  Gybbon laughed softly. “True enough. Tend to a fire for us, lass, and I will tend to Nightwind.”

  “Nightwind. A fine name,” she murmured, giving the mare a pat before turning her attention to the building of a fire.

  Alice made sure the fire would not go out the moment she turned her back on it before she collected the clothes she and Gybbon had rinsed clean in the burn. Placing the saddles close to the fire, she draped their clothes over them and hoped they would dry before the sun set. She fought down a surge of embarrassment over how poor, thin, and worn her clothes looked next to his. Six years of running and fighting for her life and the lives of four children did not give a woman time to fuss over the vanities of her appearance, she sternly reminded herself. She was alive and so were the children. That was all that mattered.

  When Gybbon sat by the fire and began to carefully portion out some food, Alice quickly sat down across from him. Her stomach ached for what he put in a wooden bowl but she fought to hide her desperate need. A part of her feared becoming accustomed to such bounty only to have it disappear, just as her fine comfortable life had been brutally torn away from her six years ago.

  As she ate, struggling to cling to the good manners her mother had taught her, Alice covertly studied Gybbon. The way she felt around him was a constant source of surprise. Since the night Callum had beaten and raped her, cursing her as a demon all the while, she had stayed as far away from men as she could. The repeated confrontations with Callum and his men had only hardened her resolve, driving her deeper into the wilder places. In the last two years, the only time she had approached even the most humble home was in the darkest hours of the night and then only to steal what she could so that the children could eat or stay warm. Yet she felt none of that constant, gnawing fear around Gybbon.

  She felt safe. She felt accepted for all that had previously condemned her. That frightened her. For too long she had trusted no one, depended upon no one, and felt no safety no matter where she was. Alice was not sure it was wise to feel safe now.

  Even worse, however, she liked looking at him. She had barely begun to feel an interest in young men when her life had been torn apart. Callum’s vicious attack had ensured that she never again felt such an interest in any man. Or so she had thought. Alice knew what stirred inside her now was definitely an interest in Gybbon, the sort a woman felt for a man she might want for her own. Everything about the man pulled hard at something deep within her, and she knew that ought to have her running away from him as fast as she could. Instead she sat there staring at him like some foolish moonstruck maiden. She prayed he did not notice. It was both a surprise and an embarrassment to her and she certainly did not want to be caught at it.

  Gybbon looked at Alice and caught her scowling at him. She had cleaned up well, he thought. Yet again the firelight made her eyes appear golden. In the early morning light he had caught one good look into her eyes and found them to be a rich, warm light brown. After she had washed her hair it had appeared more golden than brown and now the firelight touched upon hints of red in its thick length. Her small oval face, now cleaned of dirt, revealed clear, pale skin. Its delicate lines had been sharpened by hunger and tragedy but even those dark shadows did not mar its beauty.

  She was, he realized with an inner start, really quite lovely. He suspected a few good meals would return some womanly softness to her thin body, but he could not convince himself that she was unattractive as she was. His body certainly stirred with interest as he glanced over her body, its slight curves revealed all too clearly by her ragged gown. Gybbon tried to tell himself that it was just a result of feeling protective of her, even sympathetic, but he knew that was a lie. She was nothing like the sort of women he usually felt a lusting for, but something about her definitely drew him. Even when she looked as if she wished to hit him over the head with her bowl, he thought, suddenly amused at himself.

  “Are ye now regretting sending the children away with my cousins?” he asked.

  Even his deep, smooth voice stirred her long-dead interest, she thought a little crossly, but she fought to keep that irritation out of her voice. “Nay. They had to go. Ye are like us. If I cannae trust the ones who are like us, then who can I trust?”

  “No one. I wish I could say otherwise, but I cannae. As the Hunters gain strength ’tis even less safe for any MacNachton to let anyone outside of the clan ken what he is. There is a risk with each new Outsider who discovers how different we are. We have been fortunate so far, but the danger is there and cannae be ignored. Unfortunately, for ones like ye and your family, the need for such caution, for such solitude, only adds to the danger ye are in.”

  “Aye, true enough. It stirs questions when one keeps oneself apart from others.”

  “In the end, ’tis less dangerous than mixing too freely with Outsiders or letting too many ken our secrets.” He smiled his thanks as she took his bowl to clean it out. “We need to rest now. I can abide the late-day sun so we can leave here when the sun is low in the sky.”

  “And then we just ride about hoping the Hunters sniff us out?”

  Gybbon shrugged as he collected their blankets and handed her one. “That and, when they creep close enough, I intend to cull their numbers whenever I can.”

  Alice wrapped herself in the blanket and settled down on the stone floor. She stared through the low flames of the fire at Gybbon as he did the same. It took only a moment for her to begin to miss the children, especially the way they had all curled up against her when they had slept. Alice forced that longing aside and fixed her thoughts on Gybbon’s plan. It could work to free them of any pursuit so that they could follow the others to Cambrun and she would see her children again. It would not, however, put an end to the threat men like Callum and his little army presented to all who were like her and Gybbon.

  “I can almost believe we will win this fight,” she said quietly, “but ’tis just one battle.”

  “Ah, ye dinnae think that beating these men will end the hunts.”

  “Nay, it willnae. And I suspicion there will be men quick to step into the hole left by any Hunter killed.”

  “And why are ye so certain of that?” Gybbon felt the same but was curious as to why she thought so.

  “Because whoever gathers these men makes them believe they do the will of God, that they are fighting demons and will be blessed by God for their sacrifice.”

  Gybbon softly cursed. She was right and he had no argument to give her. The MacNachtons had become a crusade for the righteous. His clan had long debated the reasons they now had men hunting them and come up with many, including some quest to gain the MacNachton longevity, but Alice had spoken the truth of it all, concisely. He had no argument that would refute her. Someone was leading a crusade against the MacNachtons. This war would be long and bloody.

  Chapter Four

  Gybbon used his sleeve to wipe the blood from his mouth. He stared down at the man sprawled at his feet. In deference to Alice’s unease about a stealthy culling of their enemies, he had given the man a choice. Fight and die or give up his quest, run home, and live. The man had chosen to die. Alice was right. These men believed they fought evil, that they fought for good and God. Others who had taken up the cause might have a few other plans of their own, but not men like these. It almost felt wrong to kill the fools.

  He cursed as he crouched down by the body to search it for anything of value. Gybbon always felt a twinge of revulsion when doing so, but he could not leave anything of worth to
rot with the man or to be stolen by someone else. He and Alice needed whatever supplies they could scavenge. He regretted the fact that the man’s horse had fled, for it was clear that it had been the man’s only worthy asset.

  The marks on the man’s neck revealed the way he had died, so Gybbon put the body in a shallow grave and covered the newly turned earth with leaves. It had not been his intention to feed, but the man had struck a few telling blows with his sword before he had died and Gybbon could not afford to nurse wounds for any length of time. He could not regret the strength the blood had given him either.

  Two days, two men. Gybbon thought that was a good accounting. Since he doubted the man Alice had nearly gutted was part of this hunt any longer, whether dead or because he had been sent away to heal, the number of their enemies was now six. If the Hunters had not gathered any new martyrs, he thought as he mounted Resolute and started back to where he had left Alice. His count depended on the possibility that all the Hunters after Alice had been in the clearing when he had first seen her. His instincts told him they had been.

  What he hoped was that once the Hunters realized how their number had dwindled, they would flee. The glint of religious fervor he had seen in the eyes of the two men he had killed weakened that hope, however. Such men were often quite prepared to die, even expected some great reward since they would die in service to their God. Gybbon was coming to understand that most of the Hunters truly believed they were on a crusade against evil, were fighting the minions of Satan. That did not bode well for the future of the MacNachtons.

  Gybbon found Alice sitting in front of the shieling he had left her in. The look of relief that briefly crossed her face told him she had worried about him. He did not want to be moved by that, but he was. Even telling himself that she was just afraid she would be left alone if anything happened to him did not completely dim the warmth that look of concern brought him.

  Each hour he spent in her company made his attraction to her grow stronger. She was not as feral as he had first assumed when he had seen her standing over the body of a man she had savaged. She had just been hardened by six years of fighting for her life and the lives of the children she had to care for. Beneath the rags was a woman who had both education and good manners. She also had intelligence, strength, and courage. Gybbon supposed he should not be surprised that he wanted her as badly as he did.

  “We now have but six men trailing us,” he announced as he dismounted in front of her, deciding he would not hide what he had done. It had been necessary and she had to learn to accept that.

  “That willnae be enough to make them cease hunting us down, will it.” She sighed, for the hard look on his handsome face was answer enough.

  “Nay, and ye ken weel why. Aye, and better than we did.”

  “Because they believe they do God’s work.”

  He nodded. “I have seen the proof of their fervor in their eyes.”

  “And these men arenae the only ones, are they.”

  “Nay.” He began to unsaddle Resolute. “There is an army of them. We nibble away at it from time to time but it just gains new men to take the place of those who were lost. When we first learned of them they were few, but word spreads and the numbers grow and become better funded and better organized. We need to find the head of the beast and lop it off.”

  “Ye believe there is a leader who is keeping this war alive?”

  “I do, as does my laird.” He grinned briefly. “He is my uncle, too. ’Tisnae often easy for him to be both.” He sat down next to her and glanced up at the slowly lightening sky. “There is a leader, and mayhap a few close to him, who stirs the fervor in the men. Someone discovered the truth about us, or some of it, and began to gather an army. That requires coin so ’tis nay some poor crofter.”

  Alice grimaced. “Nay, poor crofters are always the arrow fodder. The fact that these men dinnae hesitate to cut down women and children only proves how deeply they believe we are demons. They only wish to send all of us to hell.”

  “Weel, there are a few who want something else from us. ’Tis why we didnae really think hard on the reasons so many men were joining the fight, on the religious side of it.”

  “What else could they want?”

  “What makes us so strong and live for so long. That is one of the things the men who lead this fight are after. It nearly cost two of my cousins their lives. Two men came close to discovering that secret, that ’tis in our blood. We only recently realized ourselves what our blood can do for Outsiders. We can only hope the men didnae tell anyone else. As far as we ken, no other MacNachton has been caught and held as my cousins were.”

  “I wager that is something they dinnae tell their arrow fodder.”

  Gybbon offered her his wineskin, the one filled with wine fortified with blood. Her hesitation in taking it grew less each time he offered it. It was making her stronger, however, and she knew it. Even the few small drinks she had taken over the last few days had softened the hard edges of hunger on her face and body. He knew it would have also sharpened her senses and she would need that keenness in the days ahead. There might be only six Hunters left, but they were determined men.

  “Do ye think your cousins have reached Cambrun by now?” she asked as she handed back his wineskin. Alice hated the fact that she needed blood to survive and remain strong, even as she appreciated how it helped her in this fight.

  “They should be there on the morrow if they have suffered no trouble,” he replied.

  “The children willnae slow them down. They are weel accustomed to travel, to long hard journeys in the dead of night, and to the value of being verra quiet.”

  “Aye, and isnae that just a wee bit sad. My cousins will appreciate that, however, for they will be eager to get the bairns to the safety of Cambrun. The children will be weel cared for there, Alice,” he added gently, trying to ease the worry he knew she felt.

  “I think a lot of the concern I feel is borne of how much I miss them. There were times when I wondered if I was a complete lack-wit for dragging four children about with me. It shames me to admit it, but, sometimes, I even wished them gone. Aye, I would think, did I nay have enough trouble just keeping myself alive? Why carry the added weight of them on my back?”

  “Ye shouldnae feel shamed. ’Twas only a passing thought, a wee one borne of a hard day or a long night of running, of hunger and exhaustion. It isnae what ye thought when your spirits were low, but what ye did, and ye kept them with ye, fed them, hid them, kept them alive.” He frowned. “Did they ne’er need any blood?”

  “Aye, but we all need only a wee bit now and then. Enough so that the gnawing in our bellies doesnae grow too strong, for that brings the beast too close to the skin, doesnae it. Alyn suffers it the most.”

  Gybbon frowned. “He has the strong mark of a MacNachton. I wouldnae be surprised to find out his father was a Pureblood, or near to. I dinnae like thinking any MacNachton still beds women with nay thought to the breeding of a child. Ten years past we all kenned it could happen and that being so careless was wrong. Then, too, ’tis verra possible the one who sired Alyn ne’er returned because he was killed. I will find out, but now, we had best get inside. Ye go and I will join ye as soon as I secure the horses in amongst the trees.”

  Alice grabbed his saddle and moved inside the shieling. It was tiny and the roof was so low she knew Gybbon would not be able to stand fully upright. What troubled her most was that she and Gybbon would be side by side as they slept through the day. She sternly told herself not to be such a coward as she hurriedly washed up. Gybbon was not like Callum. They had been together for two days and nights and the man had barely touched her.

  Yet, the few times he had, she had felt no fear, she thought as she spread a blanket on the dirt floor. What she had felt made her think that Callum had not destroyed all chance that she would ever be with a man again. Gybbon’s touches, though light and all that was gentlemanly, stirred a warmth inside her. She had even found herself wishing for a touc
h that was not so gentlemanly. Such thoughts did make her a little afraid, but they also intrigued and excited her.

  Gybbon joined her and they sat on the blanket to share the last of their bread and cheese. Alice tried to ignore the warmth of his body when they had to sit so close together their sides touched. For the first time in years she felt a woman’s interest in a handsome man. It made her nervous, but she also savored the feeling. She could actually see a chance at the future she had dreamed of years ago, one of a man who cared for her, one who would give her children and a home.

  It was a dream she had thought Callum had stolen from her. Even thinking of that elusive future made her look at Gybbon and she knew that was beyond foolish. Not only was the man well-born and rich, he had shown no interest in her beyond that of a man helping to save a kinswoman. And that was a good thing, she told herself firmly, and did not believe a word of it.

  The crack of Gybbon’s head hitting the low ceiling of their shelter startled her. She had been so caught up in her own thoughts she had not even seen him move. Alice reached out as he staggered a little and fell to his knees. She grasped him by the arms to keep him from falling over completely. He was muttering some very creative curses, but Alice pretended she did not hear him. Seeing the way he kept one hand on the top of his head, Alice rose up on her knees to push his hand aside and inspect the wound he had received.

  It served him right, Gybbon thought, and winced as Alice’s slender fingers moved over the part of his head that had made such hard contact with the ceiling. He had only thought of putting some distance between himself and Alice, of running from the desire he felt for her. It grew stronger with every moment he spent in her company, making it more difficult to fight and control. Now his head hurt as much as his groin, only easing the pain of the latter would at least be pleasurable.