She’d touched her head, confusion swirling within her gaze.
“Listen to me well, Kyla. Twenty years ago a young lass was taken from the fae village farther along the loch from the House of Clan Matheson. Her name was Christina and she was the first and only child born to Isaiah and Grace. In the middle of the night, under the cover of darkness, she disappeared without a trace. Kidnapped, the elders of the village said, although they couldnae find her, and no one had demanded coin for her return. I remember the lass well even though I was only a lad of eight at the time. The wee one always intrigued me with her mass of golden-red curls and blue eyes.”
“I cannae possibly be this lass you speak of.” With an obstinate shake of her head, she’d dipped the spoon into the stew, held the mouthful to his lips, her beautiful blue eyes narrowed with frustration and anger. “I know who my kin are, and ’tis no clan Matheson. Eat. Now.”
“You’re doing it again, using your skill against me. Touch your mind to mine with more strength then issue the command you wish obeyed. It’ll force me to your hand far faster than how you are currently making your demands.”
“All right. I can touch my mind to another’s, have always known I could, but I’ve never forced another to my will, and no one has ever discovered my touch within their mind, other than those whom I trust. I’ve always taken every precaution. I didnae mean to touch your mind, did so afore I could help myself. Please, you must promise me that you’ll never tell another soul of what I’ve done. My parents’ lives depend on it.” She’d prodded the spoon against his closed lips once more. “Open your mouth. I wish for you to eat. You need the nourishment, and to maintain your strength.”
“You’ll learn soon enough how to use your skill to its full force if you but return to your true people. Only those of fae blood can in truth sense your touch. You can never hide that from those of your own kind.” He’d opened his mouth and slurped the stew down. “Even as young as Christina was when she was taken, her very soul cried out to mine. I knew we were mated, even though so few do at such a young age.”
He’d never joined with another from their clan, always sensed a restlessness within him for the one woman being held far beyond his reach. He’d known she awaited him somewhere, that she would remain lost to him until he’d found her. Now that he had, he’d never allow her to be snatched away from him again. She needed him, as much as he needed her.
“I said open your mouth.” Kyla jammed another spoonful of stew between his lips.
“Look inside your heart and tell me you dinnae feel something toward me.”
“I feel plenty, including frustration and annoyance.” She’d continued to feed him, not allowing him another moment to speak until the bowl was empty and the spoon clattered against the base. “Now, when the guard brings you a meal, you’ll eat it.”
“Come closer, Kyla.”
“I certainly willnae.” She’d slammed her hands on her hips.
“Aye, you will.” He’d hooked one leg around the back of her legs and she’d toppled forward, palms flattened against his chest and her breath whooshing out.
“You have no right to touch me, Ronan Matheson.”
“I have every right.” Unable to help himself, he’d buried his nose in her hair. “It feels so good to have you so close, to have your hands upon me. Many of our fae-blooded kind are soul bound to another, and when they come of age and find their chosen ones, they join together in all ways, the silken strands between their souls weaving together into one.”
“I sense naught between us.” She’d squeezed her eyes shut then pushed herself away from him, straightened her shoulders and glared. “You are my brother’s prisoner and he intends to use you to ensure your father’s compliance. We need Niall Matheson on our side.” She’d brushed her teal skirts, collected the bowl and tankard and swished to the cell door.
“Where is my father being kept?” He’d pushed forward, his chains rattling.
“Somewhere safe. You must no’ fear for him.” She’d left, taking his heart with her when she had.
His chosen one had been raised far away from her true clan, and now his battle to capture and contain his fiery mate had begun, a battle he’d never walk away from.
Today, she’d learn that the fae never gave up on one of their own.
He lowered his satchel to the ground, toed off his boots and unbelted his sword. ’Twas time for his mate to see he was back and wasn’t leaving without her, not one more time. At the edge of the pool, he planted his hands on his hips, determination spurring him on. “Kyla.”
Water splashed and his enticing siren gasped and dunked under the surface. She came back up spluttering, her beautiful blue eyes alight. “Coll? What are you—” She scrubbed her knuckles into her eyes then blinked. “Nay, you’re no’ Coll. Who are you?”
“Rand MacKenzie, my lady, at your service.”