Highland Hunger Bundle with Yours for Eternity & Highland Beast

by Hannah Howell

  Finlay stopped and faced the fuming man. “If I could really control men’s minds, do you not think I would have installed myself at the king’s side? What kind of man would pass up that kind of power, Guthrie? If I could rule the king, I could rule Scotland.”

  Thoughts turned behind the man’s eyes.

  “You’ve seen my home, man,” Finlay insisted. “Do you really think me powerful?”

  Here was a man who coveted power. Who’d dedicated his life to his king just for the chance to gather up as many scraps of influence as he could. He could understand Finlay’s desire for solitude no more than he could understand the turnings of the stars.

  The surety of his expression faded, but the hostility remained.

  “I do not trust you, MacLain. Neither do I like you. In fact, I rather hope that Frenchman catches up with you.”

  Cold flashed over Finlay’s skin like sliding ice. “What Frenchman?” he asked, knowing full well who it was.

  Guthrie’s smile was the grin of a wolf. “Have you no’ heard? He’s got only one hand, and I’d wager you had something to do with the loss of the other. He was prowling between Stirling and Larmuir two nights ago, and I gather he headed out for MacLain Castle about the time you left it. Do you think he might make it back to Stirling today?”

  Gray. And Mrs. McDermott and young Rabbie. Had they obeyed the orders he’d given before leaving?

  Ignoring Guthrie’s triumphant laugh, Finlay spun and hurried toward the hall, narrowing his eyes against the sunlight that trickled weakly through the small windows. If the tale was true, Jean was either at MacLain Castle or on his way to Stirling. Finlay would’ve welcomed the knowledge of a coming confrontation if not for his worry over Kenna.

  He could not leave her here alone, and he could not expose her to the dangers of the night.

  “Damn it,” he muttered as he bounded up the curved staircase. If they stayed here, they were simply waiting to be found. But if they left at sundown, they might find Jean standing at the gates of the castle, his sword in hand.

  He pushed open the door of their chambers and found Kenna mid-pace.

  “Finlay!” she cried, rushing toward him. Her outstretched arms briefly overrode his worries. Here was his woman, wrapping her arms around him. “What did the king say?”

  “We’re free to leave—”

  “How?”

  “But there is a more dangerous problem now. Jean has been to MacLain Castle. We must go.”

  The horror on her face did not stop her from drawing herself straight and offering a curt nod. “Of course. We must see to your home. Tonight—”

  “Nay. We leave now.”

  “Now? But…”

  “We’ve no choice. I won’t be trapped here like a rat when the sun sets, not with your life at risk.”

  “But, Finlay, you said—”

  “Come now. Let’s gather our things. You will be my eyes, and we’ll find shelter before sunset. God willing, Jean will be unawares. I’ll circle back to Stirling if it’s safe to leave you.”

  Kenna raised her hands, lips parting as if she would speak in earnest, but then her arms fell, and she stood quiet.

  “All will be well,” he whispered, touching his fingers to her precious cheek. “I will see you safe, Kenna Graham.”

  “I am not worried over me, you great lummox!”

  “No?” Even his urgency to be gone could not keep him from smiling down at her. “Will you keep me safe then, lass?”

  “Aye, unless I kill you first.”

  When he saw the tears in her eyes, Finlay pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to the top of her head. She felt right there, her head resting just beneath his chin, her hands clutching his back. And her scent glowing ’round him like a sun. Only now she smelled of his body, too.

  His lust was no longer a flat and bitter thing. This need for Kenna was pulsing and warm and growing so fast that it hurt his chest.

  “Come now,” he murmured. “Let us find this wretch and be done with it.”

  Chapter Seven

  He sat behind her on the horse again, just as he always did. But now it was different, feeling his body pressed against her after it had pressed so thoroughly into her the night before. The rocking of the horse was another reminder of what they’d done. Her sensitive sex pulsed with the movement.

  But there was guilt, too. Finlay was hunched over her, his plaid pulled low over his eyes, his hands hidden beneath the wool to keep the sun from his skin. He was suffering and she could think of nothing but having him again.

  Thank God the sky was thick with clouds. Even in the weak light, his eyes streamed tears. Two hours had passed, and he’d grown quiet. Kenna tried to think of some way to distract him…and herself.

  “I canna understand why the king let you leave after he was so eager to get you to Stirling.”

  “He changed his mind.”

  “Why?”

  He did not answer for a long while, as if he were thinking of what to say. As if he might lie. Kenna squared her shoulders and waited for the sound of falsehood. Her husband had lied to her often enough, so why did she feel shocked?

  He shifted behind her, his thighs tensing. “What the king accused me of…It is true, to an extent. I can influence men with my mind. It’s one of our powers.”

  He’d hinted as much, but she still felt a shock. “How do you do it?”

  When he shrugged, his body rubbed against hers. “I think very hard what I’d like them to do. Like glaring at someone, I suppose, only with your mind.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes, that’s all. But ’tis not as powerful as it seems. It only works on a person once or twice and then…nothing.”

  “Have you done it to me?” She gestured frantically and heard a hiss of pain behind her. She turned to find Finlay tugging his plaid more thoroughly around him. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve a right to be shocked. And no, I havena done it to you, but only because you’re very strong willed. When I came to the inn, I tried to be sure that no one noticed me, that they wanted never to notice me, but it did not take with you, Kenna. You kept looking at me.”

  “Well, I thought you verra fine to look at.”

  His laughter rumbled into her. “I can’t deny I was rather pleased with my failure. And even if I’d meant to make you obey, I didna want to push hard enough to hurt you.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Strong willed or not…I think Jean did that to me. I felt…I felt that I could not resist him.”

  His arm tightened around her. “He didna care if he hurt you, but I’d not hurt you for the world.”

  Ah, God. Her heart clenched so hard that pain sparked through her chest. He’d said he had nothing to offer her, but his consideration was enough for now. His consideration, and affection, and, yes, his kindness. Kenna sneaked her hand beneath the plaid to lay it on his. His fingers laced into hers and she leaned comfortably back against him. They’d ceased to pass any other riders for a few long minutes.

  “Are you sure Jean willna find us in the day?”

  “He’s arrogant. He thinks he has us run to ground. Jean is canny but too confident, perhaps. I should have challenged him outright instead of trying to trap him.”

  His head was hanging lower as he spoke, and Kenna began to worry at his weariness. Until she felt his teeth graze her neck.

  “Oh!” she yelped, shocked by a lightning rush of arousal.

  “I canna stop thinking of you above me,” he whispered.

  “Oh.” Her sex clenched hard as his thumb feathered over her wrist. She felt the slight pressure of his mouth sucking at her neck. Would he…Surely he wouldn’t bite her right here, would he?

  “Och, lass. You smell so perfect.”

  “Finlay,” she gasped. “Are you not in pain?”

  “Aye, but you’re doing a fine job of distracting me from it.”

  Well, she could hardly object to that, could she? Kenna closed her eyes and let her head
fall to the side while Finlay laughed against her skin. “You’re supposed to be watching the road for strangers,” he warned, not sounding the least upset.

  She forced her heavy eyes open.

  His mouth drew a line down to her shoulder. “Will you ride me again tonight, lass?”

  Her face burned. “If…Did you like it, then? My husband used to scold me for my eagerness. Not at first, but…later.”

  “No offense to his everlasting soul, but your husband was a dolt. I am man enough to take you, lass, whatever you have to give.”

  She was grinning like a fool when they rode up on a shepherd and his flock. The shepherd watched them with a wary eye, and the sheep scurried away with panicked bleats. Finlay pulled back on the reins.

  She stayed silent as he questioned the man, as he’d questioned others along the way. So far, no one had seen Jean or heard aught of a stranger traveling through under cover of night.

  “Were you here last night?” Finlay pressed.

  The shepherd shot him an irritated look. “Aye. We slept right off the road two miles on. I’d ’ave seen ’im.”

  Finlay tossed a coin in the man’s direction and they were on their way. A few minutes later, they rounded a curve, and the lowering sun threw light into her face. Finlay gasped and recoiled.

  “I canna see a damn thing. Can you tell where we are?”

  Kenna cast a worried eye down the road. It seemed to head straight into the sun for a good long while. “There’s a small stream ahead and a stone bridge. Just beyond that we ride through a notch in a ridge.”

  “Good. There’s no point going farther. He’ll have to pass this way. Can you guide the horse south along the river? Before we cross the bridge.”

  Kenna nodded and tightened her hands on the reins. The horse shied a bit at her heavy hand. She’d guided it along the road, but that was a far cry from taking it over hill and hollow.

  “You’re doing well,” Finlay murmured, but she couldn’t deny the strain in his voice. The sun hurt even her eyes at this point. He must be in agony.

  “Not much farther. I can hear the falls. When you see them, stop. There’s a cave.” She heard him draw a deep breath, scenting the air. “And Jean isna here.”

  She spied the falls soon after, and the dark, narrow mouth of the cave. Finlay dropped to the ground when she halted the horse, and Kenna followed him down, gratefully. They’d made it.

  As she led him toward the darkness, Kenna caught a glimpse of his face. His skin was an angry red, his eyes nearly swollen shut, the whites dark with blood.

  “Your eyes!”

  He shook his head and she pulled him into the stone room. Suddenly, she could see nothing, and Finlay was sighing with relief.

  “Is it…Are we far enough in?”

  “Come, there’s a ledge here.” Now he was leading her, directing her to sit on what felt remarkably like a bench.

  “Will your eyes heal?”

  He answered, “Aye,” but she heard the clear hesitation on his voice.

  “What is it?” she asked into the dark. “Tell the truth.”

  “I will need your help. Your blood.”

  The fear was a small thing this time, swamped by the anticipation of pleasure.

  “But let us rest a while.”

  She thought of the arousal she’d fought all day. “No. Now. Let’s do it now.”

  “Kenna,” he said, as if he meant to say no, but then he turned her to him and kissed her. She melted into his arms, as if she’d been weeks without him instead of hours. He pulled her up, and she climbed onto his lap and straddled him, kissing him as though she might devour his mouth.

  A faint pain pierced the inside of her bottom lip. Before she could even gasp, Finlay was apologizing.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, love.” But his tongue dragged along her lip and his breathing grew labored.

  “Take what you need,” she urged, already hot for him.

  He groaned, his breath breaking as he fumbled with her skirts and dragged his plaid aside. His hand slid roughly over her sex.

  “How can you be so ready for me?” he whispered, but the question needed no answer. He pulled her hips forward and lifted her, and the next thing she knew, his cock was driving deep.

  She keened at the painful pleasure, her cry nearly drowning out his animal growl.

  His hand wound into her hair to arch her neck. Kenna braced herself, and then he bit her.

  There was the pain she’d been expecting. A sharp, small stab, no more than the sting of a bee, but then it turned to a strange warmth, like a hand held too close to a candle. That warmth spread and dimmed before gathering at the points of her pulse. Her wrists and neck and heart…and her sex.

  She set her knees against the stone and began to ride his shaft.

  Oh, God, yes. Each stroke of his cock was a spark against that warmth the bite had created. And her sex had been swollen all day, wanting and needing. His thighs were hard beneath her, strength against her softness. His arms like bands of steel around her ribs. He was everything she was not. Everything.

  He drew at her throat and rose up to meet the fall of her hips, and Kenna screamed as her body tightened around him. She was peaking already, shaking against him and crying his name.

  He swallowed for a long while before drawing his fangs free. Then he lifted her hips once, twice more, roaring with pleasure as he sank himself deep.

  She collapsed against him, limp as a rag doll and just as brainless.

  “Christ, woman,” he panted, his hand smoothing against her hair. “You’re a miracle.”

  “That’s sacrilege, Finlay MacLain,” she said, though her scold sounded more like a purr.

  “I’ll worship you privately, then, and keep my prayers to myself.”

  “Are you better now?”

  “Aye. I’ll be good as new in an hour or so, and the sun willna set for a while yet.” He eased back. “And you, Kenna? How do you feel?”

  “Full,” she answered honestly, loving the sound of his laughter. “And drained all at once.” He laughed harder, and she realized what she’d said and laughed with him. There was no reason to move, so they sat still for a long while, arms tangled and breath mingling. She thought she could stay like this for months and years.

  But how long did she have, really? “After you kill Jean, will you be done with me then?”

  His body turned to rock beneath hers. “What?”

  She gulped at the coldness of the word.

  “You wish to be on your way, I suppose,” he muttered. “Free of this madness.”

  “No! ’Tis not that. You said that once you’d killed Jean you’d be done, but you never said with what. I worried you meant…I worried you meant you’d be done with your life.”

  “Oh. I did.”

  Her gut clenched as if he’d hit her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean my life has been worth nothing more than this revenge. I brought death upon my clan. Shame to my father’s name. There is no one left who even depends upon me.”

  “What about…” She bit her tongue. “What about Gray? And Mrs. McDermott?”

  “They’ve both been provided for.”

  Kenna didn’t know what to say. Did he mean to take his own life? How would he even do it? She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  Finlay drew in a deep breath. “I thought you were asking to leave.”

  Kenna shook her head and squeezed him as hard as she could. “Nay, Finlay. Not now.”

  There were things to be done. Plans to be made. But she was glad he was content to hold her and sit still for a long, long while.

  “Do not leave the cave.” He held both her arms and tried to meet her gaze, even knowing she could see nothing in the dim.

  “I’ve said I won’t.”

  “No matter what happens,” he insisted. “Even if you think me dead, do not come out. The waterfall will hide the sound of your breathing, and your scent as well, so long as he does not dra
w close. Do not come out.”

  “All right.” She was agreeing, but the stubborn set of her chin told a different story.

  “Promise me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I promise.”

  By God, she was so lovely and wild. He wanted another taste of her, but she must be sore. And there was no time. And he wanted her so badly.

  “If he kills me, he’ll have no need of you. Wait here until—”

  “Finlay!”

  He ignored the flash of panic in her eyes. “Wait until day, then go to MacLain Castle. There is gold in the chest in my room.”

  “Stop! I willna listen to this!”

  He glanced out the opening of the cave. The sky was nearly as dark as the cave now. “I must go.”

  “Finlay,” she said, retrieving his attention. She rose on her toes to press a kiss to his mouth. “Be careful. Please. You are such a good man.”

  He could say nothing to that, so he kissed her back and then walked into the night, his movements silent as a creeping cat. The wind was at his back, so he crossed to the other side of the road and ducked down into the space beneath the bridge.

  If Jean had been to MacLain Castle, he must take this road to reach Stirling. He must cross this bridge. And Finlay would have him.

  The stars winked one by one to life. The moon rose. The wind died down around him, swelling the night with silence. Even the dying leaves ceased to tumble across rock. He was left alone with his thoughts.

  He’d had no plans for what he would do after finally killing Jean. He’d only known his purpose in life would be done. His slow work of the past fifty years would be over.

  For a while he’d despaired of ever finding Jean Montrose. The man hadn’t been hiding, he’d simply disappeared into the strange world of the Orient, emerging for short periods to roam through Europe before returning to the East. He was some sort of restless demon, wandering the earth, leaving chaos in his wake. What he’d done to Finlay, he’d done to others, as if he took joy in using up the people around him. He used them until there was nothing left, and then moved on to another victim.