Her Highland Beast: A Scottish Medieval Romance with a Fairytale Twist

by Madeline Martin

  But there was more than that. He didn’t want her to have to take on the decision he now encountered. To have to sacrifice so much for the other person. For him. How could he place her in such a position?

  “Why wouldn’t there be time?” She placed the tome on the table and slid her finger from the page she’d been holding.

  He picked up a book from the pile. It was one he’d looked through already before, but he opened it and let his gaze skim the carefully written text regardless.

  Her gentle touch fell on his forearm. He lifted his eyes to hers.

  “I’ve gone my entire life with no memory of my childhood,” she said. “I dinna know who I am, who my father was, how I ended up in that forest.” She shook her head and a tangle of dark hair caught over her shoulder. Duncan swept it back for her, reveling in the silky softness of it. He would not be able to touch any part of her soon, for he anticipated her words before she spoke them.

  “I need to know who I am,” Evina said. “I need to know why I was left, what part of my life is missing, what I’m capable of. But love…” She gave a mirthless chuckle. “I’ve spent my entire life alone. Companionship was as much as I’d hoped for.”

  He nodded in a vain attempt to let her realize he understood enough to not need her to go on any further. He didn’t want to hear any more.

  His decision had been made. And so had hers.

  But she did go on. “Love is…Love is something I fear. It’s a weakness I dinna have right now, and I canna say I want a weakness when I dinna know who I am. What I am.”

  “And that’s exactly what I wanted to tell ye,” he said. “Gillespie found a way for ye to see Morrigan. Yer mother.” The words came easier now, spurred by his decision to do the right thing. For her.

  She may need more time to uncover her love for him, but he had already made up his mind about her. Her strength, her beauty, the way she brought his world to life with vibrant energy and incredible stories. He would give her the world if she asked it of him. In his heart, he knew he could not give her a relationship poisoned with an unspoken secret. He could never take joy in such a life, not when he truly cared for her.

  His heartbeat stuttered.

  Not when he loved her.

  Evina’s breath sucked in. “My mother,” she repeated. “Ye’ve found a way for me to see her?” Her eyes went wide with disbelief.

  Duncan’s chest swelled to bring such eager hope to her eyes. It almost made up for his sacrifice. Almost. “One of her daughters can revisit within a week of her death, even if she has been healed and her life restored.”

  “A week,” Evina breathed. “That would mean today…”

  Duncan nodded. “Ye’d need to go today, or ye may no’ have another chance.”

  EVINA HAD one opportunity to meet her mother, and she would not miss it. After all this time, she would meet one of her parents, perhaps learn of the other, and unravel her past.

  Her mother!

  The very idea caught in the back of her throat and held fast there.

  Duncan’s stare fell heavy on her, his demeanor strangely shadowed. She met the darkness of his gaze. His expression was shuttered, the openness of his soul earlier had snapped closed.

  “Ye dinna want me to go,” she surmised.

  “I want ye to learn about ye past, to meet yer mother. I know how much this means to ye.” He ran a hand down her cheek, a caress as sweet as his others had been.

  “But…” she probed.

  “I’ll miss ye, my love.” He smiled as he said it, but the action did not reach his eyes.

  Evina couldn’t help but warm with the endearment. “I imagine I willna be gone long.”

  “Time is different there. From what Gillespie has told me, it’s slower than the mortal world. An hour with your sisters will be a full day here.” His focus slid to the window where the rowan tree grew in the center of the garden. Strange, the leaves were nearly gone from the great tree, leaving the branches thrust out like bony fingers.

  Duncan turned back to regard her. “A mere seven hours there would be a week here.”

  “Then I suppose ye’ll have to wait for me,” Evina teased. Before he could offer a retort back, she caught his face in her hands and kissed him. She’d meant it to be tender, but once their lips touched, the passion ignited between them and flared with hungry desperation once more.

  After so many years of pushing away people who might otherwise have been friends or lovers, this man had endearingly edged past her defenses. The thought of leaving him caused a strange and physical ache in her chest.

  “I’ll be back,” she said breathlessly against his lips. “I’ll be back for ye.”

  A hearty knock sounded on the door and Duncan gripped Evina’s waist, pulling her tighter to him. “It’s time,” he growled into her ear. He turned toward the door, and blocked her near naked body with his. “A moment.”

  “Laird…” Gillespie’s voice held a questioning tone to it from the other side of the closed door.

  “She knows,” Duncan replied.

  “Then she must prepare.” Gillespie’s tone was heavy and resonate. “Her bath is ready. She must go into Morrigan’s home clean.”

  Evina’s pulse kicked up and her limbs trembled with a sudden nervous excitement.

  “Have Ala bring her a robe,” Duncan said. Gillespie did not answer, save the gentle pat of his retreating steps.

  Duncan remained where he was a moment longer before shifting toward Evina once more. He searched her face, as if he were memorizing every line and curve. It wasn’t until she swept her gaze down his strong, straight nose to his full lips that she realized she was doing the same. She wanted his face etched in her mind as she entered the unknown before returning back to him.

  “I’ll seek answers for yer curse while I’m there,” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Get the answers ye need for ye.”

  “My lady?” Ala’s soft voice shattered the moment into a million pieces.

  Evina sucked in a breath and nodded before remembering the servant would not see the action as she was still hidden behind Duncan. “Aye,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

  Ala appeared beside Duncan and held out a robe, her head averted with the arc of her long neck.

  A warning tapped in the back of Evina’s mind, the same as it did in battle when a nearby warrior lunged at her in preparation to deliver a killing blow. Evina hesitated. The air around her felt no different, the aged scent of dusty books did not alter, the silence in the room did not break. Nothing was changed.

  And as suddenly as it had started, the ominous sensation ceased.

  “Evina?” Duncan regarded her with concern in his eyes, and it was the first time she found herself truly questioning if she should go.

  Moment by moment, the idea of leaving him was growing more difficult.

  But she was a warrior - a woman lost in her past. She wasn’t afraid, for she had nothing to lose.

  Nothing, except Duncan, and he was cursed to remain trapped in the castle.

  Evina forced a nonchalant smile to her mouth and shook her head. “I’m ready.” She stepped into the robe Ala offered her and let the maid lead her away to the waiting bath.

  Evina glanced over her shoulder one last time to find Duncan’s gaze fixed on hers, stony and unreadable. And once more her mind ticked with the insistent cry of a warning.

  CHAPTER 11

  THE ROWAN TREE shuddered in an unseen breeze which caught at one of the few precious leaves. It spiraled to the earth and brushed Duncan’s cheek on its descent.

  “Ye bedded her.” Resignation left Gillespie’s voice heavy.

  Duncan did not answer. His mind was already decided.

  “I’ve seen how she looks at ye,” Gillespie continued. “Ye’re so close, my laird.”

  When Duncan still did not reply, his loyal servant stepped closer and regarded him with a watery gaze. “Ye’ll die.”

  “I canna keep her from doing this,” D
uncan replied. “I canna build our life on such a lie.”

  Gillespie sucked in a hard breath. “Ye love her.”

  Duncan’s heart crashed into his gut and he nodded. “Aye, I do. And I couldna bring myself to keep this from her.”

  “Have ye told her of yer love?” Gillespie pressed.

  Duncan shook his head. “I tried, but she isna ready to love as yet. It canna be reciprocated.”

  “This is yer only chance.” Gillespie frowned. “I…” His words faded and his mouth fell open, his stare fixed in the direction of the castle.

  Duncan turned to the castle and his heart stopped. Evina swept toward them in a simple white gown of shimmering silk with a dagger belted at her waist. Her feet were bare and silent on the thick grass, her steps so graceful she seemed to float. The length of her lovely black hair fell loose over her shoulders and around her waist, gleaming a majestic blue-purple where the sun caught it. Like a raven’s feathers.

  A true daughter of Morrigan.

  And she looked every part the offspring of a goddess.

  Gillespie knelt in the grass and bowed his head. She stopped before him and placed a slender white hand atop his head. “Thank ye for yer help, for discovering this knowledge.”

  Her gray gaze shifted to Duncan and she whispered his name. Her soft voice circled him, and caught in the enchantment of the rowan tree. The thick trunk hummed, low and beautiful, as if it meant to sing out to the ethereal blood in her veins.

  Gillespie got to his feet and lifted the smoldering bundle of herbs from a stone bowl. A stream of gray smoke followed the path of where he clutched the bundle in his hand. The scent of sage and some other sweet herb Duncan could not identify surrounded them. Gillespie muttered under his breath and brushed the smoke toward Evina. She bowed her head and allowed Gillespie to circle her in a cloud of fragrant smoke and magic.

  Through it all, Duncan could not remove his eyes from Evina. He wanted to break the spell Gillespie so carefully wove and drag her into his arms so he could confess how he loved her, how he needed her. For more than just keeping him alive, but for making that life have meaning.

  His throat went tight with a hard knot.

  Gillespie set the smoldering herb bundle into the bowl and led Evina to a circle of white stones with flecks made brilliant as they caught the sunlight.

  It was all happening too quickly. Duncan stepped forward and immediately stopped himself.

  He could not break this. He could not ruin Evina’s chance for what she needed.

  But he could not lose her. Everything in him screamed to fight for her. Evina’s stare cut to him and held. If he was going to speak, he would need to do so now.

  Except he did not. He balled his fists at his sides and said nothing.

  Gillespie held his hands to the circle where Evina waited within and began a low rumbling chant. Evina’s chest rose and fell with a faster breath.

  Was she nervous? Scared?

  The gaze he held said nothing of her emotions. The rowan tree’s humming grew louder, its song more insistent. Evina began to fade. The wall of snow and ice billowing around the cone of sunshine became apparent through her transparent form.

  Duncan tried to swallow the impossible knot from his throat, but it remained stubbornly lodged in place. Evina. His Evina. She was leaving him. Forever.

  He stepped forward again. Evina’s hand came up. She reached for him, the stones and grass beneath her completely visible through her flesh.

  Gillespie shouted up at the sky and the tree buzzed like the chorus of a thousand bees. Duncan’s body tingled with the threads of magic lashing through the sunlit field. The earth shuddered and lightning streaked the sky.

  A brilliant white light pulsed to life at Evina’s stomach and blossomed outward, slowly overwhelming her visage. He stared into her eyes one last time before they could fade completely from his view.

  “I love ye,” he whispered in a husky voice.

  Her eyes went wide and her outstretched hand reached with desperation.

  Emotion crushed Duncan to the ground, sending him to his knees. His heart was on fire, his soul splintering apart with her loss. He cried out in his pain and braced his body upright with his hands in the grass where cool blades bit into his palm.

  He raised his voice this time, over the humming, over the chanting, over the swell of a storm surrounding their sunlit hell. He wanted her to hear it no matter where she was going. “I love ye, Evina!”

  A white light flashed so brightly, it left him partially blinded. Duncan blinked through the pain. The vibrating had stopped, the chanting had stopped. His useless eyes searched the place where Evina had been, trying to sort through his milky vision to see her once more, to watch her eyes as she faded into a different realm.

  The haze of green grass came back first. Duncan blinked and stretched his hands to the blurry circle of white stones, but even as his sight returned, he knew it was no use.

  Evina was gone.

  EVINA’S WORLD spiraled in a mix of grass and white light. Wind swept at her from all directions, gentle even as it pulled and tugged at her simple white gown. Her stomach swam with disorientation and her mind whirled.

  I love ye, Evina.

  Duncan’s words echoed, raw and perfectly honest.

  The wind stopped abruptly, and a thick mist filled the air. It sparkled as if it’d been sprinkled with diamond dust and smelled sweetly of summertime flowers warmed by the sun. A calm washed through her and the sensation of solid surface settled against the bottoms of her feet.

  She remained in place, unsure if she should move, or if doing so might result in her falling through the cloud. Was it a cloud at all?

  She slid one foot forward and found the surface under her still firm. Cautious, she took another step. A giggle sounded somewhere in the hazy depths of the mist and echoed around her.

  “Who are ye?” Evina demanded. Her hand went to her belt where the dagger remained.

  “Anyone who would be here would be a daughter of Morrigan.” The voice was feminine, childish, and followed by another damn giggle.

  “Ye’re a daughter of Morrigan too?” Evina asked.

  “I’m ye’re sister.” The fog parted slightly to reveal a young girl. Flowers were caught in her golden ringlets and she wore a similarly simple white gown as Evina. Her deep brown eyes fastened on Evina with curiosity. “Ye have her hair.” Her full pink lips pursed into a frown. “I’ve always wished I had her hair.”

  The girl came only to Evina’s waist and could not have been more than seven.

  “Yer blonde hair is lovely,” Evina said. And it was true. Never had she laid eyes on a more beautiful child than this girl standing dejectedly before her. The girl’s pursed frown eased into a fresh smile.

  “I’m Sorcha.” She held out the hem of her glittering skirt and curtsied.

  “I’m Evina.” She offered what she hoped passed for a curtsey, having only done few in her life.

  Sorcha gave an amused laugh. “I know who ye are.” She waved a hand and walked through the heavy mist. Her footing seemed sure and she moved with enough confidence to convince Evina they would not topple through the clouds.

  “We are allowed to watch our sisters, though it isna often we’re able to intervene.” Sorcha’s serious expression displayed her sincerity. “To do so is done at a high cost to the sister offering aid.”

  “Ye can watch each other? And help? What do ye mean by cost?” Evina’s mind spun with more questions than she could possibly voice. “Did ye watch me?”

  “Ye ask a lot of questions.” Sorcha lifted her brows and continued to lead the way through the thick shimmering cloud. “But then if I had yer curse, I imagine I’d have many questions too.”

  The mist thinned and gave way to an open glen with a large pool shimmering with blue-cast water so clear one could make out the rounded stones within. Swells of emerald green grass grew with patches of purple heather and the sun shone so bright overhead, Evina’s skin warmed
with its magnificent heat.

  She took it all in, awed by the splendor of what lay before her. Never in her travels had she encountered anything so serene, so breathtakingly stunning. Her gaze combed over each rock, every blade of grass, mentally noting everything to relay to Duncan later. He would love to hear of this place.

  Her heart ached suddenly with the loss of his presence. She wished he was here, at her side, meeting Sorcha and seeing such an incredible place.

  Sorcha leaned forward. “Does it look familiar?”

  Evina turned to the girl, her sister, and her eyes prickled with the threat of tears. “Have I been here before?”

  How could she have forgotten such a place?

  “Ye have, but it isna yer fault ye canna remember.” Sorcha slid her small hand into Evina’s. The girl’s palm was slightly damp as children’s often are. Apparently the offspring of goddesses were not so different than those of mortals.

  A comfortable silence settled in Evina’s soul, and she realized it must be Sorcha’s doing. Perhaps different than mortal offspring after all.

  “Is it…part of my curse?” Evina asked. “To forget.”

  Sorcha led Evina down the gentle slope of a path. The grass beneath their bare feet was lush and soft. Everything here had a semblance of safety, perfection.

  “Aye, yer curse has been a difficult one to witness.” Sorcha paused and looked up at Evina with her deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry ye’ve forgotten so much. Know that we sisters have always loved ye.”

  Loved her? Evina blinked at the revelation. No one had ever loved her, save Duncan.

  His image slammed into her mind. Handsome with raw power, and yet gentle as he gazed at her with such tenderness. She sucked in a breath. He had cried out his love for her, harsh with pain. As if he thought he might lose her forever.

  “Will I be able to return home?” Evina asked.

  Sorcha giggled. “Of course. Ye may leave whenever ye like.” Her smile wilted. “But ye canna come back.”