Highlander's Touch: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 3)



As night loomed, the skies darkened overhead and the hilly forest pathway Fiona had trod by foot for hours, thickened even further. Branches scraped her arms and cheeks, while the brushwood spilled onto the trail and made the way through impassible.

Huffing, she halted and turned around in a slow circle. Not a break in the thick foliage overhead allowed the night sky to shine through. No moon or stars. Frustration and pain sliced through her, her satchel a heavy weight on her back and her empty water skin brushing against her hip where she’d belted it at her waist.

Trekking through the woods had always been an adventure, usually with Coll, Duncan, or Kyla at her side. This night though, ’twas no adventure at all, not when her very heart heaved with each step she took farther from the one man she’d never truly wanted to leave.

You’ll know the moment when the intricate strands of the mated bond begin taking form between you. It’s undeniable. You’ll be driven toward him, and he’ll be driven toward you, and since he’s now touched you as you’ve said, well, that’ll only make his chase of you even more intense. Kyla’s words from this morning reverberated through her mind.

Aye, Kyla was right, and after having been touched so intimately by Coll last eve, it had most definitely increased her need for him. Her thoughts swarmed only with him. Certainly she no longer wished to continue on, not when her very soul demanded she return to him. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoped like hell these fierce emotions were taking Coll just as fiercely as they were taking her.

An owl hooted, the eerie call echoing through the towering trees and leafy undergrowth. She tipped her head toward the direction it had come from and caught the slight rush of water as she did. The river must be close. A river certainly ran right through this forest in a meandering line from Loch Alsh to Loch Carron. She grasped her red skirts dampened by the swirling forest mist and stumbled toward the river.

The splashing and gurgling thrummed louder and she picked up her pace, heaved branches aside and finally broke through the heavy tree line and lurched into a small clearing with the river snaking through it, the moon thankfully now a golden orb high above. Stars twinkled so prettily and never had she seen such a welcoming sight. Thank heavens she hadn’t gotten herself completely lost, because if she didn’t know where she was then how on earth would Coll know either.

Legs shaking, she staggered to the grassy edge of the bank and lowered to her knees, flipped her black cloak back and leaned in. Hands cupped, she scooped fresh water and with her palms lifted to her mouth, gulped it down. So good, yet also so chilly. The cold water hit her belly with an icy rush and goosebumps rippled across her skin.

No more for now. She’d fill her pouch and drink more later. Skin unplugged, she dipped it into the water, corked it once full and pushed to her feet. No farther would she walk this night. She’d make camp here and build a fire to keep warm by.

Satchel in hand, she clomped across to the nearest tree and propped it against the wide trunk. With her wrist dagger unsheathed, she crouched and loosened the soil with a few good stabs. She hollowed out a small pit, returned to the river bank and collected some stones then carefully stacked them in a circle around the pit.

After a short hunt within the nearest trees, she gathered sticks and a few pine cones then with the load of tinder in her arms, dropped what she’d collected next to the pit. A quick search netted her a large log which would burn for hours and knees locked tight, she dragged it back to her camp, scoring a trail in the leaf-strewn trail.

Sweat beaded and a trickle ran down her back, the work arduous but fulfilling and she set to work pulling stringy bark off the log in preparation to begin her fire. With flint from her pouch, she struck it with her dirk until a spark caught then hands scooped around the tiny flame, she coaxed it into life and only once assured the fire had truly taken ahold, added twigs and then the large log until it blazed.

Huddled in front of the fire’s crackling warmth on her plaid, she rubbed her chilled hands together. Sixteen months ago, the night before Coll’s leaving, she’d sat around just such a fire as this one. He’d asked her to meet him before they’d parted ways and she had, in the woods near their pool. Before the brilliant flicker of the fire’s orange and yellow flames, he’d spread out a blanket and motioned for her to join him.