“Why is this happening to me?” Arabel whispered into the dead of the night. “I’ve never lost control for no reason afore.”
Nessa would need to keep a close eye on Arabel. Not all was as it seemed, and that knowledge reverberated strongly through her. Aye, as she always would, she’d watch over each and every one of her kin, including the newcomers who’d arrived from the future. None of them need ever face their difficulties alone, not when she remained close by.
The Seer – Murdock Matheson
Matheson Castle, led by Murdock Matheson, the Chief of Clan Matheson, a man with dual shifter-fae blood, Scotland, current day.
Alone in the misty moonlight, Murdock Matheson paced the battlements overlooking the night-shrouded waters of Loch Alsh. Either side of the castle, the forest stretched for miles upon miles, providing their shifter-fae skilled clan descended from Gilleoin’s firstborn son’s line with the perfect level of isolation they needed from the rest of the world. As the seer and chief of his clan, he kept a constant eye on his daughter, Isla, as well as the three warrior brothers known as the ‘power of three’ who’d traveled through time with her to the year twelve-hundred and ten.
His daughter now resided over eight-hundred years in the past, and although he couldn’t speak to her, he still sensed her closeness even over the wide chasm of time. So too Iain would never allow Isla far from his side, not now they’d finally found each other and completed their mated bond.
Aye, what a mission they all now had ahead of them. Finlay and Kirk now searched for their chosen ones, a mission of untold danger as the coming battle with the MacKenzie loomed. Hell, he desperately wished he could aid his kin in saving their fae people, although glad he was for Nessa. The seer of ancient times would watch over them all, of that he had no doubt.
Gripping the thick stone crenellation, he brought Nessa’s image to the forefront of his mind. Visions came as and when they pleased, but he sensed one was close. With his eyes closed, Nessa’s image fully crystalized. She sat on a fallen log under a midnight moon before the very loch he too stood before, although so many centuries past. Her head was bowed and a black fur cloak covered her shoulders, a vision cloaking her mind. At times, if the same vision assailed them, they could tap into each other’s thoughts and speak across time.
With focus, he drew his attention on his ability and the vision Nessa was under. A half mile from Nessa, a young woman with long blond tresses knelt at the edge of an icy pool of water, her hands submerged within the cool depths and steam puffing into the air. A fire-wielder. The steam signified her attempt to cool herself, and her frustration and loss of control pervaded the air. Something was amiss.
He returned his focus to Nessa and whispered to her across time, “Nessa, I’ve caught images of the fire-wielder losing control of her skill. Who is she?”
“Murdock, ’tis good to speak to you again. The fire-wielder is my granddaughter, Arabel. The lass rarely loses control of her skill, and only if her emotions swing too widely, although we’ve certainly experienced quite the upheaval this eve with the arrival of the newcomers.”
“Is there anything more I can do to aid you?”
“If there is, I shall let you know.” The care and concern in her voice shimmered through. “Murdock, Finlay’s bear rides him hard. He is desperate to find his mate.”
“The war approaches and he fears losing her in the coming battle, before he’s even had the chance to find her. The fae village must be saved, Nessa, so that we might once again have hope. Gilleoin’s future shifter line must survive.”
“Aye, I will keep a watchful eye over all. ’Tis time to right the wrongs of the past, and this is our chance.” Nessa touched her heart. “Until we speak again, my friend.”
“Aye, take care.” He touched his heart in return.
Nessa’s image slowly fluttered away and he opened his eyes and released his grip on the rough stone crenellation. Farther along Loch Alsh, where the village had once stood, a sacred memorial standing stone tormented him with its solitary starkness. The loss of his fae kind within the village had been a burden that had consumed him for years, as it had Nessa. The unjust death of the villagers could be no more. Aye, the time to save their people had arrived and clan Matheson must once again rise to its greatest strength. The “Son of the Bear,” couldn’t be allowed to falter.
Chapter 1
Near the ancient House of Clan Matheson, Scotland, 1210, four days following.
Arabel’s skin heated as the fire she held deep within her body raged again for release, now a fourth night in a row. She hurried along the forest trail near the castle with her twin sister at her side and emerged before a pool of water encircled by towering pine trees. Moonlight beamed through the thick foliage overhead and lit the loch’s dark, glassy surface. “Thank you for coming with me, Julia,” she breathed in a rush.