The Lord of the Clans (14 page)

Alban leant in to place a tender kiss on his wife’s brow. Then he straightened up and grabbed the door handle.

“I’ll send Erik first. He’ll spread the word that you’re here, Ariana, and I’m sure our people will flock to you. Some of them really need your talents. Thank you again for doing this. We appreciate your kindness.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

He gave her the healer’s bow before disappearing into the night. Doireann came to sit across from her. Her tired features lit by the reflection from the flames, she bent down to chuck pieces of wood into the fire.

“My husband tells me you’re travelling with our Lord. This is unexpected to say the least.”

A startled look must have crossed her face because the woman instantly raised her hands in a soothing manner.

“Don’t
worry,
I won’t say a word to our people. But Alban always confides in me, and he got me curious. How did you two meet? “

“By chance as it happens. I got lost in the Longrocks Mountains last week, and I ended up in Cameron’s caves. He was suffering from a bad injury, so I treated him. I guess we got to talking. When I told him I was on my way to visit my sick aunt’s, he offered to be my guide.”

“That is definitely odd. I’ve known our Lord for many years now, but he never struck me as the compassionate type. You must have made quite an impression indeed.”

“I have to say I’ve been a healer my whole life, and I’m good at my trade. He appeared satisfied with my work.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

She felt like flinching under the woman’s intense scrutiny. Although friendly, her gaze seemed to pierce right through her. Doireann’s eyes glazed over as if she could peer into unknown dimensions, and she leant forward.

“You aren’t just his healer. No, I can feel there’s something special about you. You are mates, and you’re in love with each other. May the Mighty Gods help
us.
The darkness will devour you both.”

Chapter Twenty

Her first patient turned out to be a warrior named Erik. Infection had spread over his back, slashed by an enemy’s blade while out on patrol. The wound festered because he hadn’t been treated properly. Aware of her abilities, she nonetheless used the contents of her pouch to heal him. She didn’t enjoy pretending, but revealing her secret to strangers didn’t seem a good idea either.

“Have a good night’s sleep, Erik. You’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Thank you, healer.”

“You're most welcome.”

He must have spread the word after his departure because, moments later, people squeezed into Alban’s house. Wounded warriors, adults with diseases, and sick children stood in line, waiting for her to alleviate their pain.
Which was fine with her.
She didn’t want to reflect on Doireann’s message. Her words and voice had sounded too much like an ominous prediction.

So she healed, doing her best to shut her mind off the woman’s foretelling. What devouring darkness was she talking about? Most importantly, could she be right about Cameron’s feelings for her? Hope swelled in her like a flower in spring. At the same time, her heart crunched under the heavy weight of her pledge, of the good man expecting her return home.

Little by little, the room cleared. Her pouch had been empty for a while by the time she treated the last person, and she had to fold her hands to keep up the pretence. Eyelids heavy, she stifled a yawn when the door finally closed. Still, the smell of Doireann’s cooking made her stomach grumble.

“What a delicious odour.”

“Thank you,
Ariana,
you’re a very dedicated and kind person. I’m glad we got the opportunity to meet.”

“So am I.”

The woman walked to the kitchen to fill a pot with mouth-watering stew. Observing her, she bit her lip as an abrupt urge to enquire about the cryptic message made her legs jitter. She hesitated a little longer, darting her gaze over the dancing of the flames. As much as she dreaded the answer, she needed to be certain. Her mind made up, she glanced up across the room.

“Doireann, what did you mean earlier?”

“I’m sorry, dear, I don’t understand.”

“You know, what you said about Cameron and me.”

The large spoon she’d been holding clattered against the kitchen table. As if the sharp noise rattled her nerves, she rushed to flatten her hand over the cooking tool. Her stare revealed a deep emotion, somewhat akin to suffering, as she regarded her guest with sympathy and sorrow.

“I'm afraid I don’t recall my words. You see, I come from a long line of seers, yet my skills are fickle and unpredictable. The gift just comes out at times without my control. I say things, but I don’t remember them afterwards. All I can tell you for certain is that my predictions aren’t prophecies.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Predictions are visions of an almost certain future, but they can be altered by our actions. Prophecies are set in stone.”

“Then there’s a chance your message won’t come true?”

She nodded, her features softening to a mellow smile. Before she could add more, Alban barged into the house.

“It’s so good to see Cameron after all this time. I wish he’d come more often. By the way, Ariana, he’s waiting for you.”

To do what?
Belly fluttering with the delicious sting of desire, mouth drying with anticipation, she turned to the woman who happened to be the bearer of a double-edged gift.

“Good night, Doireann.”

“Here, take this before you go. I made it for you and our lord. I hope you’ll enjoy my simple cooking.”

She rummaged in a small cabinet sitting atop the table to retrieve a lid. Covering the full pot, she then handed it to her with a smile while addressing her husband, who stood by the front door.

“Don’t forget to mention to Cameron that Ariana did an incredible job tonight. Our people will soon worship the ground she walks on.”

“It will be as you say, my dear.”

The cold
air outside made her shiver
as she followed Alban back to the house he’d provided for them. True to his promise, he repeated his wife’s praise to the Lord of the Clans who looked unusually tired. She put the pot in the middle of the table, swept a chunk of wood aside, and moved her saddlebags out of the way. As soon as Alban left them alone, she observed his drawn features.

“Are you all right?”

Instead of delivering one of his witty remarks, he slumped onto the pallet. She saw the tension outlining his muscles when he removed his shirt and stretched his neck with cautious motions.

“Yes. It’s just that I hacked trees and vines all afternoon to reach that damn temple. My arms are killing me.”

“Let me take care of you.”

“No. From what Alban says, you’ve done more than enough tonight. Better keep your strength for real injuries.”

Seeing him a little less strong than usual warmed her heart. He needed her, although his pride forbade him from asking for help. Disregarding his refusal, she slowly came to kneel at his feet.

“I said no, Ariana.”

“Be quiet, my lord.”

He cocked an eyebrow, a funny glitter crossing his gaze as she rolled her hands around his arms. He wouldn’t order her to stop now. She glided her fingers along the hard as stone muscles with deliberate gentleness. His eyelids fluttered, and he moaned with relief.

“Your healing power is incredible, flower. By the Mighty Gods, you make me feel so good.”

So good that she glimpsed the sudden bulge under his pants—a rapid swelling that sent her pulse knocking against her temples. This couldn’t start again. He’d take her into his compelling embrace and lie her down on the pallet, if she let him. Springing to her feet so fast that her head swam, she retreated to the table and indicated the pot.

“Doireann made this for us.”

“And?”

“I’m starving.”

Unable to tell if he bought the lie or not, she went to fetch plates before sitting down. She didn’t glance at him once, yet she perceived his edginess while he brought his lust under control. When he joined her at the table, his stoic air might have passed for detachment. She served them both, and they began eating in silence. But with the seer’s warning ringing in her mind, the silence couldn’t last.

“Do you know that Doireann is a seer?”

“Yes. What did she tell you?”

Far from intending to reveal anything about their complicated relationship, she focused on the last part of the message.

“That the darkness will devour us.”

“Huh! She’s one for the dramatics, isn’t she?”

The portentous premonition didn’t seem to trouble him in the least as he gobbled up his food like a famished man. Then again, he’d risked his life to follow her into the maze, and he had made it out of the Forest of the Dead alive without showing any emotion. A cryptic prediction was obviously not going to distress him. But it scared her.

“You don’t believe her? What if she’s right?”

“She’s a seer. Chances are she is right.”

His plate empty, he helped himself to a few more spoonsful of stew while she looked at him open-mouthed.

“That’s all you have to say?”

He finally lost a little interest in the act of stuffing his belly to raise his gaze to her. Brow gathered, he sighed.

“Whether some darkness is going to devour us or not, there’s nothing I can do about it as long as I don’t have facts or insights on how to fight it. So I don’t see the point in fearing an elusive menace that might turn out to be false. Each new day enlightens our paths, Ariana, not predictions.”

Although he made sense, she had trouble getting rid of the sombre veil that had gripped her guts since Doireann uttered the sinister premonition.
Dark and threatening.
Still, his apparent conviction lulled her anxiety and allowed her to enjoy the contents of her plate. She was hungry, after all.

Doireann might well view her cooking as simple, but she didn’t agree with her. As tender meat and delicious potatoes filled her with a sense of satisfaction, he pushed his plate back.

“What else did she say?”

That they were mates.
That they were in love with each other, but this secret would never leave her heart.

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Even when she did her best to appear above suspicion, her efforts fell flat. Lips parted, she took long sips from her goblet, reckoning she’d better whisk him away to less dangerous grounds.

“Do you think the darkness is related to the disc and the square?”

“How should I know? You’re the one who goes off-the-wall whenever of one these trinkets are around. You tell me.”

His pleasant tone made up for his blunt opinion. Yet he had a point. Magic lived inside her. She might be standing at the centre of an intricate, cosmic design, and she didn’t have a clue.

“I don’t know.”

“Until you do, how about going to bed? It’s late.”

The large pallet loomed at the corners of her vision.
The very image of her downfall.
Now that she had become the instrument of the Ancients, she wondered if they’d strike her down for her sins. A painful lump blocked her throat as she made every effort to find the right words.

“I just want to sleep.”

He stared at her till her heart pattered against her ribs.
The flat grey of his eyes concealing the mysterious workings of his brain, he put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his fists.

“Did you imagine that I had something else in mind?”

“Maybe.”

“Like what?”

His question quickened her pulse. Belly rippling with a thousand
prickles,
she searched for the most tactful answer. The reply that wouldn’t send his pride down in the dumps, but he beat her to the punch.

“Like delighting in the feel of your exciting body?
But if I’m not mistaken, you enjoyed yourself too.”

So much that the mere idea of his dominant cock ignited shivers up her spine and left her weak with desire. Her knees trembled under the table while she fought the tongue of fire flaring up her face, wetting the folds of her pussy. Although her body’s strong response to his deliberate provocation prevented her from coming up with a reasonable defence, nothing hindered him.

“Quit your blushing, Ariana. What’s done is done.”

“You don’t understand. We committed a sin.”

“We did?”

The surprise widening his eyes didn’t seem feigned. As he kept on staring at her without commenting, she braced herself.

“When you... well, you know...”

“No, I don’t. Tell me.”

Dear Creators, why was it so hard to articulate her thoughts? Perspiration clung to the bottom of her pants. She fidgeted on the chair, feet tapping the floor, palms damp with sweat. But he didn’t help her. He waited her out, his intrigued gaze riveted to hers. As stalling wouldn’t allay her extreme embarrassment, she sucked in a long breath and took the ram by the horns.

“What you did to me last night is only allowed between a husband and his wife. Otherwise it’s a sin.”

“Mating isn’t a sin.”

Now he must be doing this on purpose. For someone so quick, how could he not grasp her meaning? Features expressionless, he observed her like a fragile, clay object. She banged her palm against the table, frustrated with his supposed lack of understanding.

“You licked my pussy. That’s forbidden.”

Her high-pitched voice made him wince. Then a large grin spread across his face, and he laughed out loud.

“Where in ether’s spirits do you pick up this kind of crap?”

The genuine question halted her. Unable to remember where this piece of information came from, she suddenly wondered about its authenticity. Could she have been led astray somehow, or had she misinterpreted hearsay? Her healer friends must have talked too much, or not enough.