Highlander's Seduction (The Matheson Brothers #3)

“Then take care, my friend, for I too shall be watching over you.”


“Until the next time.” Cherub’s image fluttered away, as did his vision and his connection to Nessa.

The fae time-walker was devoted to each and every one of her people, her work usually done in secret. He only hoped she was as devoted to caring for herself as well. There was strength in allowing the mated bond and joining with the one who was always meant to be theirs. Aye, a mated pair should never be separated, not even when duty stood in their way.





Chapter 1


At the fae village, farther along the loch from the ancient House of Clan Matheson, Scotland, 1210.



Under a darkening sky, Cherub paced the pebbly beach before the fae village, the wind whistling around her. It flapped her white fur cloak back from her shoulders and whipped her blond hair in a frenzy. High above, the full moon rose and bathed the Earth in its heavenly glow. This one night of the month always offered such promise to those who were mated, yet this eve, it brought only longing to her very soul, a longing that would soon be crushed. She couldn’t forsake her fae-blooded kind, not when so many would now need her aid in seeking out their mated one.

“Papa!” A lad dashed through the gate in the high stone wall surrounding the village and raced toward the foaming water’s edge. ’Twas Joseph, Amelia’s son. Wearing loose-legged tan breeches two inches too short on his legs and a long green tunic, Joseph swung a wooden pail in his hand as he hurried along the grassy trail.

Ten years ago, Amelia, the second of only three time-walkers born to their people, had traveled from the future to the past and become soul bound to Olaf here in this time. When their bond had taken form, her friend had chosen to forego her skill and devote herself to her mate. That had left Cherub as the only one to care for their Earthbound fae, the third time-walker caring for those beyond the veil. Still, ’twas a duty Cherub adored and one she’d never forsake.

“Wait there, Joseph.” Beyond the choppy breakers, Olaf waved from his skiff then hauled his nets in. He rowed into shore, bounded out and roped his boat to a boulder. Joseph handed him the pail and Olaf filled it with his catch before the two of them walked back along the beach toward her. With a smile, Olaf stopped and gazed at her. “How are you this eve, Cherub?”

“I’m very well. How is Amelia?”

“A little anxious following the recent battle on these shores. ’Tis good to see you’re back.”

“I can never stay away from my kin here for long.” Thankfully she’d only been gone a short time. Bending, she rustled Joseph’s windblown brown locks. “Tell your mama I shall visit her soon, now that I’ve returned to this time.”

“I will.” Joseph ogled her sparkly skin. “Mama said she saw your papa beyond the veil, and more than once when she traveled there. She said the king’s skin glitters too.”

“Aye, his does. Each eldest child born within the royal line holds such sparkly skin as mine.” She was one of seven, the eldest of all her siblings. She kissed Joseph’s cheek. His mother was like a sister to her, and Joseph was the first and only child born to a time-walker. Like his mother, he too would be an immortal, his soul having been blood bound to Amelia’s through his birth.

Olaf wrapped an arm around Joseph’s shoulder. “I’ve caught plenty of fish this eve, Cherub. Are you able to join us for the evening meal?”

“I wish I could, but there is a man I must wait here to meet. My thanks though for your kind invitation.”

“Then you must come as soon as you can. Amelia misses you.”

“As I miss her. Tell her I shall visit on the morrow.”

“I will. Take care.” Olaf squeezed her arm then led Joseph up the trail and through the gate into the village. Amelia and her kin were so happy here, and she too couldn’t have been happier for them. Joseph was a treasure, a child who brought such delight to one and all who met him.

With a soft sigh, she turned her gaze back toward Matheson House. This coming encounter was one that tore at her. She was to meet her soul bound mate and then turn him away. Life wasn’t fair, but then that she’d learnt well over the centuries.

Down the trail toward the sea-gate landing, a warrior with midnight black locks brushing his shoulders ran. He bounded aboard a skiff, released the mooring rope then coiled and stored it under the center seat. With the oars in hand, he rowed.