“Aye, sir,” Bethany said and waved at the man to follow her.
Wren slipped her arm around Parlan and ushered him to the table to sit and pour him a tankard of ale. When she placed it in Parlan’s hand, she said, “Raven isn’t dead.”
Oria took her husband’s hand and they joined the couple at the table.
Parlan turned pleading eyes on Wren. “Are you sure about this?”
Wren closed her eyes for a moment and all remained silent. She opened them slowly almost reluctantly. “Aye, Raven is alive.”
“Where is she? What’s happened to her? Why didn’t you tell me?” Parlan asked anxiously and with a touch of annoyance.
Wren took Parlan’s hand in hers. “I can’t see beyond that she’s alive. I can’t tell you if she’s well or ill or suffering. I only know that she isn’t dead and my vision five years ago of you all reuniting tells me she will return home.”
“You don’t know when or if she—” Parlan shook his head, thoughts of what may have happened to his daughter causing him unbearable pain.
Wren held tight to Parlan’s hand. “I wish I could see more, I truly do. That I can’t worries me for it sometimes means the future has yet to be decided.”
“But you saw us all reunited,” Royden reminded.
“Aye,” I did,” Wren said with a nod. “But I can’t see anything beyond that for Raven and that troubles me.”
“But that might be good,” Oria said. “It means once she arrives home we can help see to a good future for her. No matter how she returns to us we are all here to love and help her any way we can.”
“That is true,” Wren agreed.
“So the most important thing is to get Raven home,” Parlan said. “Hopefully, Arran will see to that.”
Royden was glad his da didn’t look at Wren when he said that or he would have seen the flash of sadness that he had caught in the woman’s eyes. She knew Raven wouldn’t be returning with Arran and Royden wondered what more could be done to help find his sister.
Later that day rain moved in and everyone took shelter inside. Royden searched for his wife once he entered the keep and no one could tell him where she was. He hadn’t found her in their bedchamber like he had hoped he would or in his old bedchamber. He was a bit surprised to find her in Arran’s bedchamber.
The bedding lay on the floor in the corner and she was busy wiping dust off most everything while a small fire burned in the hearth. He stood in the open doorway and watched her. She was so intent on her task that she didn’t know he was there. She worked with enthusiasm, a smile on her face, sneezing when a plume of dust rose around her.
She jumped when she turned and saw him. “You sneak around as quietly as your sister did.”
Royden shook his head. “No one surpasses my sister when it comes to sneaking around.”
Oria laughed. “Raven was good at hiding where no one would find her.” Her smile remained after her laughter faded. “That skill no doubt serves her well now.”
“I pray it is so, but what are you doing in Arran’s bedchamber,” Royden asked, stepping into the room.
“Seeing that it is clean and fresh for your brother’s return home,” she said, looking around the room at the work already accomplished.
“Someone else could see to that,” Royden said.
“True, but I am his sister now—family—and I will see it done as I will with Raven’s room as well.”
Royden went to her and brushed a piece of dust out of her hair. “Arran and Raven will be grateful.”
Oria’s smile vanished. “I should have tried to find out more about what happened to Raven and where she was. I might have been able to help her.”
Royden gave her arm a tender squeeze. “You did the right thing. There was no telling who was watching you. You might have been tortured for the information and Raven would have been found. You both would have suffered. You made the right choice.”
“It was so difficult, knowing she was out there somewhere, possibly in dire need, and doing nothing to help her.”
“You did do something. You protected her the only way you could and by doing so you saved the Clan MacKinnon as well.” Royden took her in his arms. “You did right by Raven, by us all. Don’t ever question that you didn’t.”
“Did you ever question your decisions?” she asked, wondering if he too punished himself with doubt and what ifs.
“I did. I fear I wallowed in it for a while until the anger pushed aside everything. The anger drove me, sustained me, helped me to see what mistakes I would never make again,” he admitted.
“You didn’t make any mistakes,” she admonished. “You fought like a true warrior.”
“The mistakes came before the attack.”
“Tell me,” she urged, eager to know, eager to help him heal from all he had suffered.
“Not here,” Royden said and took her hand.
He led her to his old bedchamber and sat on the bed, bracing himself against the wood headboard, then reached out and took her hand, tugging her down to sit across his lap. He had often dreamt about a day such as this, where they sat in his bed and talked and eventually made love. An unexpected joy filled him that part of his dream had finally come true and he planned on making sure the latter part came true as well.
“Tell me,” she urged again, cuddling against him, the pleasant scent of fresh rain on him rushing up to tingle her nose.
He had avoided talking to her about anything to do with the horror of that day. Now, however, comfortable with her safe in his arms, he found he wanted to discuss some of it with her. “One thing that troubled me about the attack was how the warriors got past the sentinels we’d posted. My da had doubled the sentries. Some of them surely would have lost their lives, but some should have been able to alert us to the approaching troop long before they arrived at the keep.”
Oria’s brow wrinkled. “You’re right. How could they have gotten past so many of them?”
“The only answer that seems feasible is that someone knew where every single sentry had been posted.”
“Who would know that?”
“A number of people, the sentries themselves included,” Royden said.
“Do you think one of your own betrayed the clan?” Oria asked astonished. “Have you discussed this with your da?”
“Betrayal seems likely and, aye, my da and I have talked about it. It’s not something we want to believe, but it’s something we can’t ignore. It is also something I will never let happen again.”
“How will you prevent it?” she asked, relieved to know he’d taken precautions and curious as to what they were.
“I change the sentries’ positions throughout the day and night. They never remain in the same area. I’ve assigned the task to Angus and John. They go and move the sentries around so even the warriors themselves don’t know where they’ll be posted or for how long.”
“That’s brilliant,” Oria said. “I feel safer already.”
“It wasn’t my idea. I learned it from Platt, the man whose command I served under and who led the attack here that day. I hate the man, but he has a brilliant mind for strategy. He had men infiltrate areas and garner information long before we attacked.”
“You think that could have happened to the Clan MacKinnon? You think someone might have been planted here long before the attack?” she asked, a slight shiver racing through her, thinking how easily she had trusted everyone in the clan.
“If not, the answer points back to a friend who betrayed us all,” Royden said, the thought of it sparking his anger.
“It troubles me to think that someone we trusted, we called a friend, could betray us,” she said.
“And it leaves you wondering who around us can truly be trusted,” Royden said.
Oria rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m so glad we can trust each other.”
“Didn’t you trust Burnell?” It still rankled him and probably always would that she had been married to another man before h
im even though their marriage hadn’t been truly sealed, a relief to him. But odd as it was he was also grateful she’d been wed to Burnell. That marriage had kept her safe.
“There are only two people I can say who I trust without an ounce of doubt. You and my da.”
“What about my da, Arran, Raven?” he asked, curious that she didn’t count them among her most trusted.
“I trust them as well, but it’s a deeper, different type of trust I feel with you and felt with my da. The kind I never questioned, never doubted. A trust that would never fail me, knowing both of you love me unconditionally and would always be there for me,” she said, feeling that deep security now there with him.
He tried to tame the anger, aimed at himself, that bubbled up inside him. “But I did fail you.”
Oria sat up with a sudden jolt and a startled glare. “I don’t know how many times I must tell you this. You did not fail me.”
“I told you I would keep you safe and I didn’t,” he argued. “You carry that scar because of me. You were forced to wed another because of me. I failed you, Oria, and I sometimes wonder how you can love me.”
“You doubt my love for you?” she asked, shock sending deep wrinkles running across her raised brow.
“No. That’s just it. I’m amazed that you still love me after all you have suffered because of me,” he said. “I always knew you had a kind heart, but I didn’t know you had such a forgiving one.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Royden. You didn’t fail me and not once did I ever think you did. You did what you were supposed to do that day, fight to protect me, your sister, your clan. And I’ve often wondered if I had made it into the keep with the other women would I have jeopardized their lives just by being there, since those men purposely came looking for me.” She rested her hand against his chest. “It’s useless to rehash what might have been if either of us had done something different. The one thing that never changed, that remained constant through it all, was our love for each other. Never did I question my love for you and never did I doubt your love for me. I always knew you’d come back to me no matter how long it took. And I intended to be here waiting for you.”
“A married woman,” he reminded.
“Burnell told me when we wed, and I could see it for myself, that he was ill and didn’t have much time left. When he lay dying he told me to stay strong that you’d return to me.” She turned a tender smile on her husband as she poked him in the chest. “You’re mine. You always have been and I’m keeping you.”
He barely broke a smile, but passion rushed to his dark eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to toss me back?”
“Never,” she said softly. “Though you said something to me once, a promise of sorts, and you haven’t kept it.”
His brow narrowed as he tried to recall. “Tell me and I’ll rectify it.”
“You told me that it was in this bed we’d make bairns together.”
He smiled, remembering that day. “Then it’s time I kept my word.”
Oria was off the bed in a flash and had her garments off just as fast.
Royden swung his legs off the bed and rested his one hand and the stump of the other to either side of her waist, then kissed just above her navel.
“You never deny me, wife,” he said, looking up at her.
She rested her hands on his wide, thick shoulders. “Why would I? I love you and I enjoy making love with you.”
He pressed his cheek to her flat stomach, then kissed the soft flesh again, loving her female scent that drifted up to tempt him. He looked up at her. “I’m going to plant my seed deep inside you and we’re going to make a bairn, wife, and in the months to come I’m going to enjoy every moment of watching you round with our child.”
His arm went around her waist while his hand remained at her side as he pulled her down on the bed. He stood and was out of his garments as fast as she had shed hers.
He laid down on his side next to her and he ran one finger gently over her face, like the delicate touch of a feather. When his finger traced across her lips, she tried to capture it in her mouth, but he was too quick. His finger remained faint on her naked skin, moving down along her slender neck, across her shoulders, over her firm breasts, teasing her nipple with the pad of his thumb until it was hard, solid like a pebble, and aching for his tongue. His finger moved to her right arm, tracing along it, barely skimming her skin and when he reached her hand his finger traced delicate circles around her palm, and she moaned from the sheer pleasure it ran through her.
“Royden,” she said on a whispery breath.
“I’m going to touch all of you,” he said and lowered his mouth to suckle hard at her nipple.
Oria groaned with the tantalizing sensation that rushed a wetness to settle between her legs.
He kept his word, faintly touching every inch of her and when his finger finally grazed that most intimate spot she nearly bolted off the bed.
“I’m not going to last long with you torturing me like this,” she warned.
“Then I’ll make you come again,” he said the play of his fingers intending to do just that.
“You promised me we’d make a bairn. I need you inside me for that,” she reminded and reached down to touch his shaft and guide him where she needed him to be. He grabbed her hand and she smiled. “You’re just as ready as I am.”
He brushed a light kiss across her lips. “Aye, but this time I want us to linger until—”
“We both go insane—”
“With pleasure,” he finished and his mouth went to one of her nipples.
How could making love be so tortuously blissful? Oria didn’t know and didn’t care. She simply allowed herself to get lost in every exquisite touch, in how his lips and teeth rose sensations along her flesh and deep inside her that were foreign yet so welcoming. She ached for him to be inside her, yet she didn’t want him to stop touching her, kissing her, loving her.
She gasped when he turned her over and proceeded to touch her and kiss every bit of her quivering flesh. When he nipped at her bottom, a surge of desire shot through her so strong she thought she’d burst in climax.
Oria dug her hands into the bedding and buried her face in the mattress, fearful her passionate scream would echo throughout the keep when his fingers found their way inside her to tease and torment.
She barely had a rationale thought in her head and as for a breath? She didn’t think she had a breath left, passion strangling her senseless.
It was too much. She was going to burst any moment and she was too breathless to warn him.
Suddenly, she was on her back and ever so grateful when he shoved her legs apart and entered her with a hard thrust that had her crying out and gripping his arms. He rammed into her hard and fast and she met his every thrust with her own. He couldn’t go deep enough for her and she arched high and hard, hearing their flesh slap wildly against each other.
His rumbling groan grew and she knew he was near. She was already there, another thrust, just one more and…
Oria screamed, pleasure consuming her like a fit of divine madness that tossed her about and consumed her over and over and over again.
Royden thought for certain he stood on the precipice of death, endless, blissful pleasure devouring every inch of him as he emptied into her. He dropped his head back and groaned as her muscles tightened around his shaft, as if squeezing every last drop of his seed out of him.
He dropped forward over her and went to roll off her, but she wrapped her arms around him, not that they fit all the way around, or that she was strong enough to hold him there, but then he was too spent to stop her. And truth be told he didn’t want to pull out of her yet, or move off her.
Her hips wiggled slightly beneath him and he raised his head and the look on her face told him that she needed to climax again. He’d realized, quite happily, that she rarely had one climax. Sometimes it was a brief second one and other times it was as strong as the first.
He didn’t
hesitate. He might not be as hard as he’d been but he was lucky enough to have a sizeable shaft and a few thrusts had her sighing with pleasurable relief.
When her sigh drifted off completely, he rolled off her, bringing her to rest against him.
They laid there, their flesh damp with sweat, and their bodies quenched with pleasure. It wasn’t until Oria shivered that Royden hurried to retrieve the mangled blanket at the end of the bed and spread it over the both of them.
Oria cuddled against him, placing her head on his shoulder and looking up at him. “This may not be the time to ask, but after the exquisite way we made love, I have to know how you learned all the wonderful things you do to me. Did a woman teach you such skill?”
He ran his thumb over her lips, plump from kissing. “I never touched another woman like that. It was meant for you and you alone. I would dream about the different ways I wanted to make love to you. That was one of them.” He smiled. “And believe me when I say it far surpassed my expectations.”
Oria smiled softly. “Mine too.”
“Those women meant nothing to me, Oria,” he said, needing her to understand. “It was a need born of frustration and endless battle. I felt nothing for any of the women, except…”
Oria waited, knowing guilt had him confessing to her and though it sometimes pained her to think he had known other women intimately, it also helped to know that it had been out of need and no more, except… she continued to wait.
“There was one woman, a bit older than me, who sought me out. She liked that I wasn’t rough with her or hurt her. She taught me some things and she listened when I talked about you. She asked me how I could be sure you’d be waiting for me. I told her that we loved each other since we’d been young and nothing would ever change that. We knew we’d be together always. She would ask me to tell her stories about us and I always obliged her. She said the stories made her happy to know that a love like ours existed.”
“What was her name?” Oria asked in an odd way grateful to her for bringing a bit of comfort to the hellish life he had been forced to live.
Pledged to a Highlander Page 23
