Highlander's Bride (The Fae #1)

His breath continued to move with a steady flow in and out, no further blood loss dampening his bandages, although his forehead was bruised black and blue, the lump protruding high. He’d sleep without issue for what remained of the night, the belladonna ensuring that, and in the morn when he awoke, she’d examine him once more.

Assured all was well, she closed the door behind her and tramped upstairs to her room on the third floor. A maid had built a roaring fire for her, as well as closed the thick red drapes over her window overlooking the inner courtyard. She passed the crackling blaze of peat and wood, foraged for her nightgown in the trunk at the end of her four-poster bed then stepped behind her silk dressing screen hand-painted with pink and purple heather. Front stays unlaced and her gown’s bodice scrunched in her hands, she snuggled deeper within Ronan’s mind.

“Kyla, wait.” His croaky voice stayed her hands.

“Is something wrong?”

“As you can see through my eyes, so too I can see through yours.”

“I’m well aware.” With a mischievous giggle, she dropped her gown. The rich midnight-blue fabric slithered to the polished floorboards and she stepped out of the pool of velvet, scooped it up and tossed it over top of the screen. In just her shift, she gripped the hem. “Would you like for me to continue? I wish to ready myself for bed.”

“Aye, nay, aye. I mean halt.”

“I dinnae wish for there to be any more secrets between us.”

“Thank heavens you’ve never created this link with another man.” A fierce growl. “Leave your shift on. You can sleep in that.”

“Are you certain?” She dropped the hem, palmed the undersides of her breasts through the cotton and scooped them higher, rubbed her thumbs over her nipples and gasped at the delicious tingles that raced across her skin. Never had she touched herself in such a brazen way before and ’twas most, ah, interesting.

“Do you want me to fall off my horse? I have no’ done that since I was a lad.”

“Nay, I dinnae wish to have to tend any more injuries this night.” She sashayed out from behind the screen. “What a shame you’re so far away.”

“More than a shame.”

She nabbed her brush from her side table and combed her hair, washed her teeth with a mint and salt paste, splashed her face with cool water from the basin then dived into bed and snuggled between the crisp white sheets, her red and gold patterned bedcover tucked under her chin. ’Twas a quilt she’d made herself. As a child Mama had taught her how to sew squares of beautifully colored fabric together to create a pattern and she’d done so with this red and gold silk, the design reflecting a rainbow of the two striking hues. Mama’s favorite colors and Papa’s too. Each night when she fell asleep, ’twas with thoughts of her parents close to her heart.

Eyes closed, she tracked Ronan’s movements, followed him as he galloped through the dark and down the winding cliff top trail until he came out next to the secluded bay near Duncan’s stronghold. The fortified walls of Ardan House rose out of the dark and the guardsman standing on duty at the gatehouse bellowed the warning of their arrival.

Both men slowed their horses as they passed the sea-gate where a powerful war galley bobbed from its mooring at the end of the landing. Duncan’s vessel. He adored the sea, sailing along Scotland’s western coastline and in and about the isles. Through the main gate, Ronan and Hamish rode under the high arch, their horses heaving misty air as they brought them to a stop within the inner courtyard.

Torches mounted on the curtain wall spread their flickering glow across the stony ground and up toward the battlements where Duncan’s warriors patrolled in battle attire, their weapons holstered at their sides and stance strong. ’Twas a heavily fortified keep, even more so than Carron Castle.

Hamish jumped from his horse and landed with a clomp on the gravel, handed his reins to a stable lad who rushed forward to take them then marched across the yard to the front door and halted on the step underneath the eaves. He eyed Ronan who still sat atop his horse surveying the bailey and all within it. “Are you coming?”

“Aye, I’m coming.” He dismounted, handed his reins to the lad who waited and followed Hamish inside. “Stay with me.”

“Always.” This coming meeting was one she’d never miss out on. She remained embedded deeply within Ronan’s mind as he prepared himself for the conversation to come, for this night he’d not only speak to Duncan, but also be close once again to his father after being parted for nigh on a month. “I’m sorry you were kept separated from your father during your imprisonment. If there had been any other way, Duncan would have taken it, but Hamish had seen that both yours and your father’s capture was needed in order for Muirin to have the chance to convince Niall of their mated bond. Your father wouldnae have come willingly to her otherwise, no’ while she remained on MacKenzie land and our clans so fiercely at war. Neither could we have told you the truth until the time was right. Our fae princess might have intervened and changed things.”