Highlander's Claim: Time Travel Romance (The Matheson Warriors Book 2)

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “’Tis no’ difficult, but deadly. Colin MacKenzie wishes for control of the waterways between him and his enemy, and for that he needs Gilleoin’s Matheson lands on the tip of Loch Alsh. He intends on holding dominion over the Western Isles,” she mumbled into his shirtfront then lifted her gaze to his, “and he believes I’m going to aid him in gaining that power and authority he seeks. I have seen your death, first in the MacKenzie’s dungeons, and now on board his war galley.” She stuck her adorable chin out and glared down her nose at him even though he stood taller than her by a good foot. She was his little spitfire, and damn it, that obstinate look in her eyes stirred him deep within, in a way he could never explain.

  “Where you go, I go.” He would have his work cut out in convincing her of their bond and of his need to remain at her side, but he would. He simply needed time alone with her, and he intended on claiming that time now. He lifted her up, tossed her over his shoulder then with one hand across the back of her knees and the other clasped over her pert bottom, he strode into the misty depths of the forest and followed the inland trail leading toward the point of the bay, where the ruins of the village now sat with one home restored.

  “Hunter, where are you taking me?”

  “Where I promised to take you yesterday, the village.”

  “I’m sure there’s a better way to carry me than this. Put me down, you big oaf.” She thumped his backside with her fisted hands and his bear rolled around inside him with delight.

  Aye, no matter how she touched him, he and his bear both adored it. He rubbed her backside and an intoxicating, warm honey aroma swirling with strawberries swamped his senses. Heavenly. Fur rippled down his arms and across his back, there one moment then gone the next.

  “Oh my, is that your bear?” She tugged the hem of his tunic up and ran her hand over his bare back. “I’m certain I just felt fur here.”

  “Aye, it’s my bear, but he can’t have his freedom right now, not when I have yet to convince you that you’re ours.” His claws sliced out and his jaw popped. More fur rippled.

  “I understand if you need to shift. My sister Cairstine holds the fae skill of morphing and makes the Change often into her favored form of the golden eagle. The urge strikes her hard and fast at times.”

  “As long as I’m touching you, my bear will eventually settle.” He picked up his pace through the cloying fog and jogged through the underbrush, the swaying boughs of the pines brushing his arms on both sides of the trail, while high overhead the skies darkened into a churning, stormy black.

  “’Tis about to rain, Hunter.”

  “Aye, I’ll take a shortcut underground so we can remain dry. There’s a tunnel leading to the village not far from here.” Thunder rumbled, the trees whizzing by as he secured his hold on her, the entrance to the tunnel that ran underground to the village just around the next bend.

  “I’m getting dizzy, extremely dizzy.” She gripped his shoulders, pushed herself upright and slid down his front. He caught her in his arms and she looped her hands around his neck, her golden curls whipping all about in the whistling wind. Pine needles whisked across the forest floor and leaves crunched under his booted feet. Thunder boomed and lightning sizzled across the churning skies.

  “Keep your head down,” he ordered.

  “I wish to see where we’re going.”

  “Must you argue with me on every single issue?”

  “Aye, I can be a touch argumentative at times, but ’tis an excellent quality to hold and shows I can speak my own mind. You should be grateful.”

  “I had no idea someone could actually argue their case about being argumentative.” He chuckled as he tucked his chin over the top of her head and pumped his legs faster. Over fallen logs, he bounded then splashed through a rocky stream with knee-deep rushing water. More lightning. Jagged spikes of bright white sizzled and struck the earth, then the clouds burst open and hail splattered the ground. Faster, he raced and Ailith burrowed her face into his neck, her breath warm as it washed across his sensitive skin.

  “How much farther?” She licked him, actually licked him, her hot tongue stroking across his neck, her divine touch sending a powerful surge of desire bolting straight to his groin.

  “Not far.” He grunted, his cock hardening again, most uncomfortably.

  Up ahead the tunnel entrance loomed, no more than a ragged path cut through a rocky rise. He slid through a split in the crevice of the wall and plunged into darkness. Water trickled through the cracks in the ceiling above his head and splashed into puddles at his feet, turning the pebbly base into a muddy mess. “Tell me more about the village as it stood in the past.”

  “In what way?” Her cute freckles stuck out starkly in the cold, her skin chilled and paler.

  “I’m aware those from the village are descended from Samuel, the fae king’s youngest son, that Samuel become enamored by the village chief’s daughter and when the two wed, they created a line of half-blooded fae who remained at the village, but you’ll know things our ancient tomes don’t hold.”

  “There are hundreds and hundreds of stories I could tell you that willnae be in those tomes.” She pushed her wet hair back from her face and looked deep into his eyes. “You can put me down now.”

  “I like holding you.” He drew in a deep breath, drawing in her exquisite aroma which the wind could never whisk away. “You smell incredible, more fertile than you did this morning. I’m glad we’re here, far away from the other unmated males. You’d be driving them insane by now.”

  “Your advanced sense of smell must be annoying at times.”

  “I’ve always appreciated it, actually.” His cock jabbed into her bottom as he carried her.

  “Hunter!” She gasped his name, her eyes going wide before a glimmer of desire he couldn’t miss, lit them from within. “I, ah, please put me down.”

  “I’ll put you down, but only if you promise to walk right beside me along this tunnel.”

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Murdock had a vision and saw that I willnae be leaving until you and I have battled, which means I’m eager for a fight.”

  “I give you my word we can battle, right after I’ve shown you around the village.” Gently, he lowered her to her feet, caught her hand and twined their fingers together. Down the tunnel carved of stone, he guided her, her hand so tiny within his.

  “Thank you. What materials did you use for the rebuild?”

  “We kept as close as possible to the original mix. Stone and clay for the walls and we topped them with curved timbers to support a thatched roof. The rooms have been furnished with older pieces from the keep which have been set aside for the restoration.”

  “Wonderful.” She stumbled in the dark, and he braced a hand around her waist to keep her upright. “I can barely see the path ahead. Are there any torches we can light to show the way?”

  “No, we shifters have exceptional sight and have no issue seeing in the dark.” Rubble littered the trail here and there and he made certain she didn’t stumble over it by lifting her where needed. “The tunnel thins,” he warned her.

  “Mayhap I should have mentioned that I’m no’ all that fond of extremely tight spaces.”

  “Why is that?” She seemed unafraid of anything and everything, so prepared to take on even him.

  “Once, many centuries ago after my sisters and I celebrated our eight birthdays together, we decided to take on our first adventure. We’d hiked a full day through the forest surrounding Loch Heart before Cairstine, Lilias, and I stumbled upon a hole in the ground right beside an ancient oak tree. It had the largest trunk and widest boughs I’ve ever beheld. Fireflies and fairies fluttered all about the foliage and transfixed us.”

  “Wait, you celebrated your eight birthdays together? As in you and your sisters are triplets?”

  “Aye, we are identical triplets, our features the same, although Lilias prefers to dye her hair a stunning shade of red. She is such a
rebel.” She giggled, her body brushing against his in the tight confines of the tunnel.

  “I would like to meet them.” He wished to know everything about her, for Ailith to share all her childhood memories, just as he wished to share his own with her. “I apologize for interrupting. Continue with your story, your adventure and the fairies.”

  “Oh, aye, the fairies were so tiny. When I held out my hand, one sat on my palm”—she tapped her palm in the dark—“it stretched out its wee wings and lifted its dainty face to me, all aglow.”

  “Can you converse with them, the fairies that is?”

  “Aye, but only in Gaelic.” She rubbed her cheek against his arm as she walked. “Do you speak the old language?”

  “All my clansmen do.” It was spoken by his elders, and in so doing, ensured each generation came to learn it with ease. “Watch your head through this next part of the tunnel.”

  “Thank you for the warning.” She ducked her head in some places where the ceiling dipped low and so did he. “My sisters and I were always getting into mischief in our younger years, and more so during that adventure since we’d left home without our faerie dust. ’Twas a magical tree, we came to learn, with lush grass and wildflowers surrounding it. Cairstine morphed into a sparrow and flew down the hole and when she returned, she spoke of a deep underground pool she’d found inside, one holding warm water with dozens upon dozens of more fairies fluttering all about it. Well, Lilias and I needed to hear no more. We got onto our bottoms and scuttled down into the hole and whizzed down the chute like on a slide. Once we reached the cavern holding the pool of steamy warm water, we were lost for words. ’Twas just as Cairstine had said. Fairies ducked and dived about, each glowing a soft pastel shade, from pretty pink to pale blue and light yellow. ’Twas as if the fairies had been sprinkled with diamond-dust as well. They sparkled so brilliantly as they played.”

  “What caused your fear of tight spaces then?”

  “Lilias and I couldnae climb out after we left the pool behind, so Cairstine morphed once more into a sparrow and soared up and out of the hole’s entrance. She promised to return with Papa as quickly as she could, but unfortunately, she got lost on her way home. ’Twas the next day afore Papa arrived with a knotted rope and dangled it down. He wasnae happy at all that we’d breached the fairies’ inner sanctum, not that the fairies had minded. Several had remained with Lilias and me during the night.”

  “I’d love to have seen those fairies.” More thunder, and it shook the ground. Dirt flaked from the ceiling and fluttered free. He held still until all settled, then holding Ailith’s hand firmly, he continued along the passageway.

  “Are you sure this tunnel is safe?”

  “Aye, it’s been here for a very long time. Not much farther now, no more than a hundred feet I’d say.”

  “Then let’s hurry.” She dug her nails into his palm, her breath fogging from her mouth. “Oh, I see a divide in the tunnel.”

  “We take the passageway to the left.”

  “Where does the other tunnel lead?” She gave it a quick glance before continuing with him down the left side of the passageway.

  “It veers away inland and comes out several miles to the east of here, quite close to the hills. We’ll leave exploring that tunnel for another day.” A touch of salt permeated the air, then a rush of fresh sea air breezed through.

  “I can smell the loch, and I can see the end of the tunnel.” A sliver of light ahead lit her emerald eyes flecked with gold. She dashed past him and clambered up stone stairs leading upward.

  “This tunnel comes out right inside the house we’ve restored, which we’re aware actually belonged to Amelia, another time-walker from the past.” He eased around her as she halted on the top step, planted his hands on the trapdoor overhead and heaved. Wood creaked and the trapdoor swung up then clattered back down inside the house. More light filtered through, more fresh sea air too from the open window in the main room.

  Ailith scuttled up and twirled around inside the house, her golden ringlets bouncing and the fur hemming her gown leaving a wet streak across the stone floor scattered with fresh rushes. “This is wonderful, and yes, this is Amelia and Olaf’s home. It truly is as if I’ve stepped back in time.” She pointed to one wall as he clambered up beside her. “Oh my, you’ve even restored the stone oven as Amelia had it, and have earthenware pots sitting across the top ledge where she placed them.”

  “That’s Cherub’s doing. She ran the final inspection and gave her full approval once done.” He eased the trapdoor back over the tunnel.

  “’Tis incredible, a job well done.” Ailith skipped past a chair tucked under the corner table and halted next to the large oven with its curved arch and peered inside the darkened interior. “Amelia makes the best bannock bread I’ve ever tasted. I always sit at her dinner table when I visit her.”

  “Cherub said she and Amelia were close too, like sisters.” He strode across to the trunk underneath the narrow open window overlooking the center of the village ruins. Outside, hail pelted the grass and melted within the remains of the fire pit, a deep stone basin which ran a good eight feet wide and fifteen feet long.

  “Aye, they are very close and always will be. Amelia is close to me in age, and born in the countryside near my grandfather’s castle.” Ailith joined him at the open window, a reverent look on her face as she inspected the carved lid of the trunk. “Amelia keeps blankets and plaids in a trunk just like this one, which sits in this exact spot too. Hers holds no such carving inlaid upon its lid though, is instead crafted of reddish-brown wood from a tree Olaf cut down in the forest surrounding the village.” She motioned to the pallet in the corner. “That bed is very similar to her son’s.”

  “They have a child?”

  “Aye, Joseph. He will turn ten this next summer. He’s such a treasure, a child who brings such joy to one and all who meet him. He also holds the skill of foreknowledge, is in fact the first child born to a time-walker, and although no’ one of the full-blooded fae, he is still an immortal, his soul having been blood bound to Amelia’s through his birth.” She heaved up the lid and lifted a plaid from the top of the blankets within, flapped it out and wrapped it around herself. Snuggled within the dry woolen folds, she wriggled her shoulders. “I’m so glad you brought me here.”

  “There’s a fireplace in the bedchamber if you need to warm up. I’ll light it now.” He motioned to the partially open door at the rear of the main room beyond the small kitchen with its wooden-slabbed benchtop and pots hanging from dangling hooks secured to the ceiling.

  “I would love to see the bedchamber.”

  “It’s even furnished. Come with me.” He rested a hand at her small of her back and steered her across the main room, pushed the door open and motioned for her to go through first. A large bed with a blue and cream patchwork quilt took pride of place in the room and he passed it then knelt at the hearth. A cane basket was stacked with firewood and he pulled the stringy husk from a log and made a small stack of bark in the pit. From his wrist sheath, he pulled out his dagger and flint, carefully struck the flint then breathed on the sparks and coaxed them into life. Flames flickered and he added wood and brought the fire to a crackling blaze.

  Ailith wandered to the side table with its small round mirror propped against the wall and gasped as she caught her reflection. “Ugh, I look like a drowned rat.” She picked up the jug and poured water into the matching antique basin, then from the pile of cloths, dipped one into the basin, wrung out the water then chin tipped up, smoothed the damp cloth across her face and neck.

  “There’s clothing in the ambry if you wish to change out of your damp gown.” He picked up the wooden clothes rack propped in the corner and set it in front of the fire. Patting the rungs, he continued, “You can lay your clothes on this rack before the fire to dry. Does that suit?”

  “It certainly does since I long to get out of these wet clothes.” She eased the blue ambry curtain aside and gently fingered each of
the three gowns with a furrowed brow, the first a fine turquoise velvet, the second an emerald satin that matched her eyes to perfection, and the third a royal-blue silk gown with detailed embroidery around the hem and low neckline. A riding habit hung beside the gowns, as well as corseted undergarments.

  “Do you see anything you like?”

  “Even though I rarely wear gowns, I certainly can appreciate how beautiful these ones are. Still, would there be any men’s clothing, a tunic and mayhap a small pair of breeches that I can wear?”

  “On the other side of the ambry.” He couldn’t help but smile, not since his mother had fashioned all the clothing, even hand-stitching the quilted cover gracing the bed. She had the most amazing eye for detail and adored creating clothes from eras gone by. He crossed to Ailith and eyed the shelf holding men’s breeches, a tunic, leather jerkin and padded war coat in a tidy pile. “With a sturdy belt, the breeches should stay up.”

  “I dinnae see a belt.”

  Neither did he as he searched the shelving. “I’ll have to ask my mother to drop one in when she returns from her holiday, for her to add some smaller breeches sized for a woman to the mix here as well.”

  “Your mother is the seamstress who fashioned these clothes?”

  “Aye, she sewed them all by hand.”

  “She’s so clever.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Where is she holidaying?”

  “Ireland, along with my father. They’ll be back in a fortnight. Do you need aid with your laces?” He clenched his fists at his sides, his need to touch her pounding through him. That need stirred his bear and his skin itched again with the demand to shift. His bear wanted his release, to capture some of her undivided attention for himself, to pin her down and claim her, no matter she hadn’t yet admitted to a bond forming between them. Aye, with every minute that passed in her company, he became more enamored by her. A bond had certainly formed between them and full moon or not, he intended on proving that point to her.