Doon

“Doon did no’ call ye here ta become its queen by marrying my son.” The king sunk back into his pillows then, a coughing fit consuming him.

I stood frozen and stared at him for several seconds, trying to comprehend his words. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? I wasn’t meant to be with Jamie?

I stood on weak legs to fetch Fergus. But before I could move away, the king sat up, his cold hand clutched my arm, and he gasped out one chilling word. “Witch.”

Suddenly, the room spun away from me in a vortex of sights, sounds, and emotions. The dizzying effect sent me to my knees as the whirl of images flashed before my eyes and then ground to a sudden stop on a single hazy figure.

Waves of asymmetric blonde hair shifted over the figure’s shoulder as she turned toward me—Adelaide Dell, the caretaker of Dunbrae Cottage. What the—?

The vision grew sharper, like the lens of a camera coming into focus. Addie’s flawless skin thinned, becoming lined with age, her mouth turning down slightly at the corners. Her pencil skirt and twin sweater set morphed into an old-fashioned black dress that covered her from neck to ankle. Her pale hair turned white, twisting into a tight bun as she clutched a small leather-bound book to her chest.

The vision fell away, leaving me in a crumpled, boneless heap on the floor. Addie Dell is the witch of Doon! Working to focus my eyes, I lifted my head and saw the king’s arm hanging limply over the edge of the bed above me. Gripping the mattress, I struggled to my feet and found him still and silent. His eyes half-closed, his head lolled listless on his shoulder. Oh no! Was he gone?

“Laird MacCrae?” I whispered into the dead silence of the room. Leaning forward, I placed my fingers on the side of his neck and counted to thirty before I found a pulse. It was weak, but steady. I turned to get help.

Raised voices greeted me as I neared the chamber door. “Father thinks you’ve misread the dreams. Tell her, Jamie, perhaps—”

“I can’t risk it.”

“If you care for her at all, give her a chance.”

“I care for this kingdom. As should you, brother!”

“If you dinna tell Veronica, I swear to you I will!”

My stomach did a sickening backflip, and I burst out of the room to find Jamie and Duncan nose to nose. “Your father passed out!”

The brothers turned to me, their faces twin masks of stone as I added, “I checked his pulse. It’s weak but steady.”

“I will attend him.” Duncan strode through the open door. “Veronica, Jamie has something to discuss with you.”

Jamie sighed heavily and shoved a hand into his disheveled hair. When he turned to me, his perfect lips twisted in a scowl. “You’ve wanted to know if I was dreaming about you?” he snapped.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

His face softened. “I did dream of you … You were crying the first time I saw you. Then I couldn’t walk down the street without seeing your haunting face. And that day in the bedroom window …” He swallowed convulsively.

My pulse stuttered as I waited for him to continue.

“At first the dreams were … amazing. You were more than I could’ve dared hope for.” He glared at his feet, shoved his hands in his pants pockets, brows drawing together. When he looked up, his eyes were misty as if tears—no, it had to be a trick of the torchlight. “But then the dreams changed. I couldna get close … an evil surrounded you, moved with you, contaminating everything, until …” He paused, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he stared at the wall.

I desperately wished he would stop, but I couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t move.

His eyes sliced back to mine, his entire face drawn, almost haggard. When he spoke, his voice was thick with grief. “Until everythin’ was destroyed. The entire kingdom … gone forever … because of you.”

Like a blow to the chest, his words stopped my heart.

I stared at him and shook my head. My mouth moved for several seconds before I could whisper, “No. You’re wrong.”

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