Highlander's Bride (The Fae #1)

“Aye, come inside.” Hamish stepped aside and gestured for her and Ronan to proceed him through the gate. “Never have I looked more forward to a vision as I do right now.”


“As I look forward to you receiving one too.” She desperately looked forward to it. Hamish could be trusted, implicitly.





Chapter 3


“This way, Rand.” Kyla dashed across the inner courtyard toward the front doors of the keep, halted in the entryway and motioned for him to go up the side stairs so they could divert the great hall and those who would have already assembled there for the midday meal. At least she’d gotten her chosen one safely inside the keep without issue. Now to get him back out again and on his way to Ardan, and preferably with Hamish at his side. The seer would watch over him, his fae blood demanding he keep his own people safe. “Rand, take the first chamber on your right once you reach the first landing.”

“Will do.”

“You may have already secured the lady’s trust, but you’ve yet to secure mine.” Hamish pounded upstairs after Ronan and she chased them both.

“I came upon the lady by chance and I only sought to ensure she came to no harm, to return her safely to Carron and of course that her guardsman receives the care he needs.” Ronan swept inside the chamber she’d indicated, carefully eased Gordon over his shoulder and laid him down on the sheeted bed.

“Clearly Gordon is unable to give me an account from his own mouth.” Hamish moved to the other side of the bed and lifted Gordon’s closed eyelids. “Accidents happen, of course, but he is badly hurt.”

“His was a most unfortunate accident.” She set her bag and Ronan’s down in the corner, closed the door then crossed to the side table before the unlit fireplace where she kept her herbs and healing supplies. “I’ll have Gordon back on his feet in no time.”

She searched for the plantain she’d gathered from the forest only a few days ago. Various herbs still hung on a wire near the open window and from amongst the bunches, she plucked what she needed. She tore the leaves from the stem and along with a stone mortar and pestle, mashed and ground the plantain herb into a green paste, a salve she used for cleansing wounds and preventing them from festering. “Hamish, I need you to light the fire and set the pot of water to boiling.”

With a frown at Ronan, Hamish knelt at the hearth, pulled the stringy bark off of a log, struck flint with his dirk and coaxed the sparks to life. He added twigs and wood until the flames rose high then set the blackened pot of water over top.

“What do you need of me?” Ronan brushed in behind her as she stood at Gordon’s bedside, his hand smoothing discretely down her back.

“Remove Gordon’s boots and chainmail. When he awakens, I want him as comfortable as possible.” She delved deeper within Ronan’s mind and began to fuse a stronger link between them. Filaments of gold spun thicker as she created a merged link of the mind, one that would allow her to go beyond just reading his thoughts to speaking to him mind to mind, a link she’d only ever created with one other when her ability had strengthened enough to do so. Ten years of age she’d been, her friendship with Fiona steadfast and sure. Along the golden strands, she allowed her next words to flow to him. “Take absolute care. Hamish’s seer ability means he misses little, and being one of the full-blooded fae, his skill is the strongest I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll take every precaution, my mate.” He eased Gordon’s boots off and set them against the wall out of the way. “I’ve been waiting for you to build a merged link of the mind with me. Those who hold your skill always form such a link with their mate, as well as with a few of their most nearest and trusted.”

“I’ve only ever opened such a connection with a childhood friend of mine. Fiona held a touch of fae blood, a skill as well, her father being the MacKenzie’s second-in-command. We played together often, got into a good deal of trouble when we did as well.”

“’Tis incredible to have you speak to me in this way, for me to be able to answer you in return.” He lifted Gordon’s arm out of the heavy sleeve of metal, slid the protective mail over his head then down his other arm. With a clunk, he set it beside Gordon’s boots. “You’ve never spoken mind to mind with Coll or Duncan?”