Highlander's Heart (Clan Matheson #2)

Time is of the essence.

Aye, in five days’ time she was due to speak vows with Donnan before a clergyman, vows her heart revolted at now having to utter. Her soul bound mate had finally come for her, and now she only hoped he hadn’t arrived too late.



Tor strode down the tunnel, the pounding fall of the waterfall ahead echoing toward him. He’d been given so little time to woo his mate. Certainly losing her to another man wasn’t an option. He’d never be able to let her go, would steal her away before Donnan MacDonald ever could.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the tunnel and into the clear night air, the waterfall a rippling sheet of water that arched from over his head and down into the steep ravine below. He walked to the end of the ledge and leapt onto the scrub-lined trail. Overhead, the night sky glittered with an array of stars, the full moon a bright and beautiful orb of gold rising higher with each minute that passed. The full moon had always offered his shifter kind the promise of finding their chosen one, a journey they all undertook under its heavenly glow when the time to find their mate had arisen.

Tonight, he’d be with the one woman who was always meant to be his, or at least he would as soon as he’d caught them some dinner. He set out along the trail, rummaged and found a ropy tree root hanging loose along the side of the cliff then chose the perfect sapling when he came across it, one that would whip up nice and fast when attached to a noose snare. He fashioned the noose from the ropy tree root then with twigs hammered into the ground, draped the noose over the trap. A toss of dry leaves to hide the trap, the cherry he’d pocketed on his way out in place on the top as bait, and he was done.

While he waited for the trap to catch their meal, he trod down the trail, reached the ravine at the bottom of the waterfall and swung his skin free of his belt, dipped the pouch in the stream and filled it up. Layla had asked for some time and he’d give it to her but while he did, he’d court her, exactly as she deserved and exactly as his heart and soul demanded he do. Showing her exactly who he was and how much he desired her would drive him over the days ahead. Five days in total. That’s all he had.

Needing to ensure she was all right and not still fretting over the discovery of their soul bond, he headed back along the trail, collected twigs and the odd log along the way and returned to her.

He bounded into the cavern, found her dipping and diving and exploring the cavern’s pool just as he’d done the first time he’d found this sacred place. He waved out and she swam toward him, emerged from the water, her golden tresses slick down her back and her beautiful brown gaze moving over him. “Are you enjoying your swim, Layla?”

“Very. How’s your hunt faring?”

“The trap is set. I’ll light a fire with this wood I’ve brought.” Arms full, he knelt at the rear of the cavern and tucked the wood into a pile beside him. He dug a small pit in the sand and set to work building the fire as she plopped down next to him. He pulled the stringy bark off a log, struck flint with his dirk and coaxed the sparks into life. After building the fire into a crackling blaze with the twigs and wood, he held out his pouch to her. “Would you like some fresh water?”

“Very much.” She popped the plug and brought the mouthpiece to her lips. How he wanted to bring her lips to his, to kiss her and—damn it. He needed to leave before he toppled her onto her back and took her right here and now.

“I’ll be back soon.” He jogged out of the cavern, back into the crisp night air, the rush of the waterfall and the peace and solitude of this sacred place settling over him and calming his fierce need at least a little. Being able to touch their chosen ones was vitality important to his shifter kind. Would be a difficult need to tamp down while she insisted he must.

A soft snap dinged from the direction of his snare and he let out a heartfelt sigh. Thank heavens. Dinner was caught. While he tended to that, he’d be able to honor his word and keep his hands and lips off her.

He tramped down the trail, removed the rabbit, took it down to the ravine’s stream and skinned and cleaned it. Done, he returned to the cavern and found his woman sitting cross-legged before the fire, her shift now drying and fluffed around her, her hands raised to the flames and a sweetly intriguing look on her face. “Are you warm enough?” he asked her.

“Aye, I’m quite warm.” Smoke wafted from the fire and swirled with the steam rising from the pool. “I have questions, Tor, about you and your time. Do you mind if I ask you one or two of them?”

“Ask however many you like.” He chose some of the sturdy sticks he’d brought in earlier and created a spit for the rabbit.