by Donna Grant
"Listen.
In a time of conquering
There will be three
Who end the MacNeil line.
Three born of the
Imbolc, Beltaine and Lughnasad Feasts
Who will destroy all at the
Samhain, the Feast of the Dead.
One who refuses the Druid way
Inherits the winter and in doing
So marks the beginning of the end.
For the worthy to prevail, the fire
Must stand alone to vanquish the inheritor,
Water must soothe the savage beast, and
The wind must bow before the tree."
Gregor blinked and sank onto the log Aimery had given up. "Conall was the one who refused the Druid way."
"I knew you would figure it out. What else can you decipher?" Aimery asked his gaze expectant.
"Obviously, Glenna is the fire and Conall the inheritor. Fiona is the water that must soothe the savage beast, and Moira the wind that must bow before the tree."
"Ah, but who is the savage beast and the tree?"
Gregor raised his eyes to Aimery. "You know don't you?"
Aimery laughed. "Maybe."
"Things would be much easier if you would just tell people."
"What would be the fun in that? You need to learn to make decisions on your own. We Fae usually just stand by and watch."
"In other words, you are telling me that Fiona and Moira will find their mates just as Glenna did."
"I knew you could use your mind when you wanted to," Aimery said with a laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"If one of them makes a mistake or a wrong decision the prophecy won't go on as planned."
Aimery thought a moment. "It might. It might not."
Gregor rose to his feet. "I have had enough of this cryptic talk. You are far worse than the Druids."
Aimery just smiled as he watched Gregor walk away. Aye, Fiona would certainly soothe the savage beast within Gregor.
* * * *
Gregor found Fiona beside the river. Her long dark hair swirled in the breeze as she gazed at the water, the stars twinkling overhead. It wasn't until he got closer that he saw the huge water funnel that rose above the river.
He watched as it rose higher and higher. It moved from one bank of the river to the other, the water swirling fiercely. The funnel then split in two, then split again as they danced across the water. The funnels slowed to a calmer level, and varied in size now.
The feats spellbound him, and he found he wanted a closer look. He had nearly reached Fiona when she said, "Come sit."
Words eluded him as he sank to the ground beside her. All but one funnel disappeared, and then to his amazement water shot from the middle of the funnel to land some ten paces away in the river. But before he could ask how she had done it, another shot of water exploded from the river exactly where the first had disappeared.
The water continued to hop along the river. Fiona giggled beside him, and he couldn't stop the grin that pulled at his lips. He wanted to see her face, but he couldn't take his eyes from the river and her many tricks.
The water hopped toward him as the funnel slowly disappeared into the river. He opened his mouth to ask her why she stopped when he was hit in the face with water.
He wiped his face while Fiona clutched her sides as the laughter doubled her over. Gregor found himself chuckling along with her.
"You never saw it coming," she said in between the laughter.
"I'm glad to see you are in a better mood."
She sat up and wiped at her eyes. "Thanks to you."
He was glad to see a smile back on her face. "What to talk about Moira?"
The smile diminished until it was barely visible. "Nay. I would rather not hear her name again."
"She didn't abandon you. She wanted you safe while she returned to the castle for Glenna," he tried to reason with her.
"She left me. She didn't come back. She never contacted me all these years. That is abandonment no matter how you look at it."
He sighed and gazed at the water. "You haven't heard her side of the story. You don't know what happened in the castle after she left you."
"She has had ample time to explain it to me."
He couldn't fault her thinking there. " 'Tis hard being the eldest child. You feel responsible for things and when they don't turn out like you want, or expect, you are left with the guilt."
"What are you guilty of?" she asked.
"All Moira wanted for you and Glenna was to be happy. That happiness has finally come for Glenna, and very good people raised you. Moira never had to worry about you, and she wanted you to continue on with that happiness."
"Answer me, Gregor," she demanded. "What do you feel guilty over? Why were those men trying to kill you?"
Because I did the unthinkable.
She turned fully toward him. "Were you exiled from your clan?"
"Aye," he finally answered.
"I recognized the plaid those men wore as MacLachlan. Will you tell me why you were driven from your clan?"
He shot to his feet. "I have told you more than anyone else since that day. I think that is enough."
"It helps if you talk about it."
"You might want to take your own advice," he said.
He had to get far away from her. He had almost told her everything. It had felt right to tell her, to share the heartache he had carried since that awful day.
But he couldn't bear to see the look on her face when he found out just what sort of man he was. That would hurt far worse than any torture.
* * * *
Fiona watched Gregor walk away. Maybe he was right. Maybe she should take her own advice. It had felt good to confide her fear to Gregor.
Since she no longer had the desire to rip heads off at the mere mention of Moira's name, she deemed it safe enough to venture back to their camp. Maybe Aimery would still be there.
To her surprise, Aimery sat on the fallen tree whistling as he whittled on some small piece of wood. She came to stand in front of him.
Then asked, "Why have you come?"
"I told you. I wanted to check on you," he answered without looking up.
"If the Fae are as powerful as the stories I have been told then you would have known that without seeing for yourself."
A smile broke across Aimery's face. " 'Tis true. I wanted to meet you before you reached the Druid's Glen."
Satisfied with his answer, she sat beside him. "The entire time I was raised with Helen and Cormag they taught me the Druid ways and how to control my power. I know all about my parents, the prophecy, MacNeil and the Druids. But I know nothing of my sisters."
Aimery stopped whittling. "And that scares you."
She raised her eyes to Gregor who had remained silent. "Aye," she admitted. "I am terrified."
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Are you sure this will work? Gregor has no idea we are even here," MacNeil said as he and his men rode closer to the MacLachlan lands. The Shadow hadn't disclosed anything to him, and frankly he was tired of it.
"Of course it will work," the Shadow said. "I have already told you that. You needn't worry how he will know, but rest assured he will."
"I'm going to need more than that."
In a blink there was a blade pressed to his throat. "That's all you are going to get," the Shadow whispered.
MacNeil jerked his head away from the dagger. "I'm not so sure your plan will work. After all, your many attempts on Glenna's life failed miserably."
The Shadow cackled into the night air. "Ah, MacNeil. Always the same argument. You do worry overmuch."
But MacNeil wasn't so sure. Oh, he didn't mind the killing, in fact he enjoyed it. But he didn't have time to pillage and kill leisurely. He had a prophecy to contend with and time was running out.
If the Shadow's plan did indeed work as he intended, then Fiona would be dead in a day. Only if Gregor knew his clan would be under attack though. And h
e seriously doubted that was the case.
* * * *
Blood. There was blood everywhere. Covering everything. And the screams surrounded her, as if they were trying to tell her something, begging her to listen.
Fiona desperately tried to see more, to see what was causing the bloodshed. The pain of the people infused her until she could barely breathe.
She pushed away from them to find an older man lying on the castle steps while MacNeil stood over him laughing. It seemed vitally important that she recognize the man. She concentrated all her energy to find something about the man, and then ...
"Fiona!"
She jerked open her eyes to find Gregor kneeling above her, his hands on her shoulders, his brow furrowed and his lips pinched together.
"You were having another nightmare."
It wasn't a question. She nodded and tried to turn over, but he wouldn't let her. "Tell me of it."
"There was so much blood." She ran her hand across her brow to wipe the sweat away. "I can still hear the screams."
"Anything else?"
She raised her gaze to his. "I saw MacNeil. He stood over a man on the steps of a castle that he had killed. For some reason, I think I'm supposed to know this man."
He ran a hand down his face. "I couldn't wake you. You wouldn't open your eyes."
"I'm sorry." She sat up. "Everything is fine now."
"Nay, Fiona. It isn't." He got to his feet and began to pace. "By the saints why couldn't Aimery still be here?"
"Aimery couldn't help me and you know it. He would say something cryptic and leave it to me to decipher."
Gregor stopped pacing and turned to face her. "Just wake up the next time."
He had been worried about her, she realized. She got to her feet and went to him. Now would be another good time to begin her seduction.
His back was to her as he looked into the woods. She wanted to touch him, to feel his strength beneath her fingers. After a deep breath, she bit her lips to plump them and ran her finger down his back.
He jumped at the contact. She didn't try to hide her satisfied smile as she came to stand in front of him.
"You are worried about me. That's very sweet," she said and looked up at him through her lashes.
"Of course I'm worried. 'Tis my duty to bring you unharmed and safe to the Druid's Glen."
She gave him a dazzling smile, all the while laughing inside at how he shied away from her touch. "I am unharmed and I know you will keep me safe."
"You are my responsibility." He caught her hand as she tried to touch his face. "I haven't figured out why your feelings toward me have changed so suddenly, but I will."
"There's nothing to worry about. I changed my mind."
Gregor wasn't buying it for a moment. She was up to something. She practically purred when she talked to him, and he didn't think he could stand to have her soft hands on him again. She drove him to distraction with the simplest smile and her touch was excruciating to bear because he couldn't have her.
"Where a woman is concerned there's everything to worry about," he said. "There are still a few hours before dawn. Get some rest."
He held his breath until she walked away. For a moment he thought she might try to press and work her wiles on him. After all, he was only a man.
Alone with a beautiful woman that had intrigued him from the first moment his eyes had found her.
But she wasn't for him. He was a monster, a murderer. She deserved better than the likes of him.
Once she was wrapped in her plaid and asleep, Gregor let his guard down. Being on his family's land had made him restless. He longed to see his mother, to have her warm smile directed at him and her hands soothe away his worries.
* * * *
The sun streaked over the horizon when Gregor heard a deep sigh behind him. Fiona. He watched her sleep the rest of the night until her face was etched in his memory.
He had torn himself away from her long enough to make a trek to the stream to freshen up. A brief glance showed Fiona stretching sensually as she woke from her slumber. No other nightmares had plagued her, thank the saints.
"Good morn," she said and sat up.
He nodded because words refused to leave his throat. She looked adorable with her hair coming out of her braid as the sun shed its light on her.
She stood and walked toward him. "I'm going down to the stream to freshen up. Want to join me?"
Gregor fisted his hands to keep from reaching out to her. She had no idea how her invitation stirred him. If she did, she wouldn't be tempting him.
He began to pick up their few possessions when he heard the splash in the water. It didn't take much for him to picture her naked body gliding through the water.
After a vicious shake of his head to clear the image, he called to Morgane. By the time he readied both horses, Fiona had returned. She braided her hair as she came to stand beside him.
"I feel much better," she said. "Isn't it amazing how a bath can refresh a person?"
He shrugged.
Her laughter filled the morning air. "My silent guardian. Tell me, do you sleep at all."
"Not much." He wondered what had made him admit that to her, but when it came to Fiona he was thoroughly perplexed. He fitted his hands around her small waist and began to help her mount.
"I know some herbs that could aid your sleep."
"I don't need anything."
Her hands cupped his face. "There are deep shadows under your eyes."
He was about to answer her when the smile slipped from her face to be replaced by a frown as if she was in deep thought.
"So much pain," she whispered. "Your eyes are so sad. I wonder why I have never noticed that before now."
He hastily sat her on the mare and mounted Morgane. "We have wasted enough time this morn," he said before nudging the mare into a trot.
With his concentration on scouting for enemies and making sure Fiona kept up, he didn't have time to think of where they were and just how close he was to his home.
It wasn't until he stopped for the midday meal that he allowed himself a deep breath. So far they hadn't encountered anymore MacLachlan men.
"You have ridden like a man possessed."
He helped Fiona dismount and quickly moved away from her. "I don't have all the time in the world to get you to your destination."
"It isn't that. 'Tis your family, isn't it?"
He ignored her and set about looking for some food. "Maybe an oatcake would stop your constant questions."
"Why don't we visit your family? I'm sure they would be delighted to see their son, regardless of what you did."
What little patience he had evaporated with her last comment. He whirled around toward her as years of rage worked their way to the surface. "You know nothing. Nothing, Fiona. Do you know what it means to be banished from your clan?"
"It means you are never to return."
"Exactly," he bellowed. "If I return I shall be killed."
She took the oatcake from his hand and sat wordlessly on the grassy mountainside. He regretted losing his temper, but at least it had silenced her.
Morgane nudged him with her nose and he patted her neck to assure her he was all right. While he nibbled on his tasteless oatcake he looked out over the Highlands.
He never tired of seeing the rugged beauty of his land. The clouds filled the sky refusing to allow even a brief ray of sun through them, but even so the land was breathtaking.
Fiona forgot to eat as she watched Gregor look over the land. He belonged here in the wild. Free from anything or anyone. He was a Highlander.
Her breath lodged in her throat when he tilted his head back and closed his eyes as a breeze swept the hair from his face. Golden locks floated in the wind while his face relaxed and took on almost a boyish charm.
She had pushed him too far. She knew that now, but she had wanted to help. Her oatcake forgotten, she stood and walked to stand beside him.
His breathing stopped for just
a moment, and she was afraid she had intruded. However, once her eyes had found the scene before her, there was no way she was going to leave any time soon.
"With each sway of the wind the grass changes from green to gold to red, and even purple."
"Magnificent isn't it?"
The love in his voice would be clear to even a deaf person. "Oh, aye. 'Tis glorious."
"I used to come here often as a child."
She couldn't believe he had told her something of his life. She waited, hoping he would say more.
"You should see it in the winter when the snow is newly fallen. I could never decide when I liked it most."
She looked at him then. His black eyes were still trained on the land around them, but they weren't as sad as before. This land, his family's land, healed him at the same time it troubled him.
If only she knew what he kept buried inside himself, she might be able to help.
When she raised her gaze, his eyes were on her. He stared at her for the longest time as if he wanted to remember every inch of her face.
She looked her fill as well. His wide, full mouth beckoned her, promising delights she could only dreamed about. She had heard the women in her clan talk, but listening to them and carrying through with something she really didn't know anything about was completely different.
Her body wanted Gregor. And as long as she kept her heart out of it she would be safe. There was nothing wrong with taking some pleasure where she found it, and he most assuredly promised that pleasure.
Before her courage left her, she reached down, grasped his hand and brought it to her face. When his warm, calloused fingers touched her cheek, she closed her eyes and rubbed her face against his palm.
She took a step closer to him and placed her hands on his chest. The leather beneath her palms was soft, cool to the touch. Just the opposite of what he would feel.
Her face was raised toward him and his hand lightly caressed her cheek. He lowered his head as his hand moved to the back of her neck.
It was about to happen. She would finally receive her first kiss.
CHAPTER NINE
Gregor jerked back an instant before his lips touched hers. "Nay."
