The Magic of Highland Dragons (23 page)

“He wants me, I can see it when he looks at me, and if… after, he favors me more than you, well there will nothing I can do.” She forced a smile to her lips, as if the idea pleased her. “I will use that desire in any way I can, but I
will
get free. Those are your choices, Elen. What will you do?”

Faith again pitied the woman as anger and desperation warred for control of Elen’s features. She could only hope the woman didn’t decide to kill her, after all. She wondered what her story was, how she had come to be here, mistress, apparently, to a very evil man, and how much worse her life might have been before, to make
this
the better choice. Finally, Elen made her decision. She walked stiffly over to the bed and undid the knots that held Faith’s arms firmly tied to the post, though not the ones that bound her wrists. It was good enough; she wouldn’t press her luck further. Once free, Faith quickly stood up.

“Thank you.” She scanned the room. “Which is the way out?”

Elen, her face still a hard mask of anger and disdain, pointed to a tunnel to the left. Faith nodded and hurried towards it, as fast as she could with her hands still tied awkwardly behind her back. She turned around once, to make sure Elen wasn’t going to try anything. The woman stood stark still, watching her leave. Faith had the unsettling feeling that no one would ever see Elen alive again, but there was nothing she could do about that. Elen had made her own choices, and from what she could see they really weren’t very good ones.

The tunnel was dark, and soon Faith was feeling her way along the wall as best she could with her hands tied, which meant she had to walk nearly sideways, and fervently hoping she hadn’t been purposely misled. Then she came around a bend, and there was a soft glow of daylight ahead. She moved faster, only slowing as she reached the opening of the cave. The bright daylight burned her eyes, and for a moment she couldn’t see. Keeping her back flat to the stone wall, she looked out cautiously in all directions.
No Guards?
She waited, holding her breath, listening for the smallest of sounds. When she heard nothing for several long minutes, she stepped gingerly out of the cave, and now she could see farther on either side.
Dead Guards
. There were perhaps ten bodies lying scattered on the ground, life oozing from various fatal wounds. The coppery tang of blood reached her nostrils. She took another cautious step, prepared to run for her life if need be.

Bren silently gave thanks for the scouting missions that had recently revealed the well-hidden location of Mored’s newest lair. It was far closer to Creagmor than should have been possible, yet another testament to the wizard’s growing power. And the danger they all faced if he wasn’t stopped.

The wards protecting the area were strong, but not overly complex, as if hurriedly placed, and it took him little time to unravel them. At the edge of the wood, they met with a group of perhaps twenty armed guards. Though well trained, the men were no match for the Mac Coinnachs and McAlpins, and in no time they all lay dead. Then they began searching for the entrance to the cave, which had to be close by to be so heavily guarded. Bren had hardly begun to search when Faith suddenly appeared from behind a rock, and after a quick glance at the bodies littering the hill side, she headed straight for him. His heart leapt into his throat in unrestrained joy and relief, and he ran to meet her.

She had looked up from the bodies to see Bren running towards her, and she knew then just how the guards had died. She found it too awkward to run with her hands still tied behind her back, but Bren had reached her before she could take more than a few steps. He grabbed her up in his arms, carrying her back to where other men were waiting in the shelter of the trees. He set her down, looking her over for any sign of harm.

“Are ye all right? Are ye hurt? God, Faith, tell me ye’re all right!” His voice sounded choked, and she could feel his hands tremble lightly as he ran them over her body to reassure himself she wasn’t harmed in any way.

“I’m fine”, she told him shakily. “I’m fine”, she repeated more firmly.

He pulled a dagger from his boot and quickly sliced through the rope binding her wrists. She sighed and stretched her arms.

“We need to get away from here, it’s no’ safe. Then ye will tell me everything that happened.”

He tossed her onto his horse, swinging up into the saddle behind her. It had all happened so fast, her capture, and her incredibly lucky escape, that she hadn’t even had time to think, or truly be afraid. But now… now Bren had her, and everything would be all right.

She leaned against him in the saddle, turning her head up to look at him. “You came for me.”

“Always, my heart”, he said close to her ear. “As long as there is breath in my body.”

Just as he would have leaned further to steal a kiss, he caught a sudden movement among the trees. The flicker of light on the blade of a sword. And the muffled sound of hooves on the peaty earth. A second line of guards. Damn. Instinctively, he pushed Faith down flat against the horse’s neck, drawing his weapon, his muscles tensing, his mind focused. Around him, his men did the same. There was no sound as they waited, ready, like a bow drawn taught and set to fire.

Faith lay motionless against the horse’s neck, her hands entwined in the thick mane, prepared to hold on for dear life. Behind her, she could feel the tension and the tightly leashed power of Bren’s muscular body. The silence around them was not peaceful; instead it felt threatening. She could feel the subtle shift of Bren’s thighs behind hers as he gave a silent command to the stallion. When the attack came, he was ready. She felt the movement of the air as he lifted his sword and slashed downward with incredible force. Although her eyes were tightly closed and her face buried in the horse’s mane, she could hear the thick sound of the blade meeting flesh, again and again, and smell the thick coppery tang of fresh blood. She stayed where she was, not daring to move an inch lest she get in the way of that slashing sword.

At last she felt Bren’s arms come around her, pulling her back against him, and she let go her death-grip on the horse, holding the saddle instead. It was over, or so she thought.

As the horses fled at full speed, their hooves thundering against the earth, the blind courage she had managed to hold on to long enough to get away from the cave quickly drained away. As the rush of adrenaline faded, her muscles began to feel weak and tremble, as if she’d run a great distance. And the danger was not over yet, in fact it was following them, gathering strength at an alarming rate as they raced for the safety of Creagmor.

She might have thought it was just a sudden storm if she hadn’t heard the steady string of curses Bren uttered as he urged the horse to go even faster. They flew along a narrow path through the trees, the horse swerving this way and that to avoid low hanging branches, but some smaller ones still slapped against her legs, stinging her flesh.

The wind was picking up, howling through the tree tops now. The air felt colder, darker somehow, even though it wasn’t yet full night. The very earth seemed to shudder and waver in furious protest to the unwelcome force, and its malevolent intent. It seemed that they rode this way for hours, racing for their lives, Bren’s arms still wrapped around her, until finally Faith thought the lay of the land was beginning to look more familiar.

She was right, the stone circle was just ahead; she could see its outline in the distance in stark relief against the dusky sky. When they had reached its edge, Bren pulled the horse to a stop, as did the other men. He jumped off, pulling her down after him, not letting go of her for even a second. He slapped the horse on the flank, sending it home and out of harm’s way, then he turned and took her hand, running with her towards the stones.

“Damn”, Bren swore under his breath, as he pulled her along behind him. Eian followed, and Drust appeared from the direction of the castle, all of them racing for the circle of standing stones, and the center of their clan’s power and strength. Mored had managed to use dark magic to take on a different form, one made up more of energy than of human flesh. In the folklore of Scotland, such dark magic was often called the Banshee, and the screaming of the storm echoed through the trees and off of the hills. The power was growing closer, stronger, eager to destroy.

Though there was no rain, lightning forked through the sky, and the smell of electricity permeated the air. The circle of stones was just before them, and a strong gust of wind, shrieking and carrying with it flying dirt and leaves, helped to propel them forward into its center. Bren immediately pressed Faith to the ground.

“Stay down! Dinna move until I come for ye, do ye understand?”

Faith glanced up and nodded, her arms over her head to shield her face from the wind and flying debris. Then Bren and his brothers moved without pause to three points within the circle, dropping to their knees and pressing their palms to the sacred earth. After a moment, they all looked up, almost as one, and the same baffled expression crossed their faces. Eian and Drust stood and rushed to Bren, who was now watching Faith with a growing look of panic.

Drust looked at the lass, who was huddled in the center of the circle, looking a bit terrified, but so far unhurt. He looked from the lass back to Bren, and ducked down as a gale swept by, skimming the tops of the stones. The terrible roar and whine of it all was making it hard to see, harder to speak.

“Bren, what is wrong? The Chief of the Mac Coinnachs has found his mate; the circle should be complete. This should be working! Why isna it working Bren?”

Bren met his brother’s eyes, and Drust could not have missed the turmoil there. He narrowed his own eyes in sudden suspicion, and Eian abruptly reached the same conclusion. “Ye have no’ claimed her? Hell, Bren, ye havena claimed her?” He slapped the palm of his hand to his forehead in disbelief. “Of all the damn women ye’ve ever had, there’s one! Only one woman that ye actually needed to swive! The one that’s yers! And ye havena done it? Bren?”

Around them the fury of the storm that wasn’t really a storm continued to intensify, and they had to shield their eyes from the wind-ridden debris, and shout to make themselves heard. There wasn’t much time, and Bren knew it. His brothers could see the answer in his eyes. He hadn’t claimed her yet, though not from lack of trying! And now… now he had no choice. He started to stand, but stopped abruptly as a new thought entered his mind; one he had never really considered before. Was she a virgin? He honestly didn’t know, hadn’t even really thought about it, but the idea of taking a virgin in such a cruel and unspeakable way made his stomach clench and his heart sink.

Drust reached out impatiently and tugged Bren to his feet. “Now! Ye have to do it now!”

Bren took in a deep breath. “Ah, bloody fucking hell!” But the gusts of wind were coming ever faster, and now they each seemed to carry a darkness with them, a color deeper than the surrounding dusk. Dark magic. His brothers were right, he had to claim his mate, right now. Even if she might never forgive him, the alternative was far worse. He would just have to spend forever making it up to her in any way he could.

Eian and Drust had moved to the edge of the circle and considerately turned their backs. “Hurry, Bren! We dinna have all night!”, Eian shouted, sensing that his brother was still hesitating.

Bren steeled himself and turned towards Faith, who sat on the ground in the dim light, her arms held up to shield her head, her hair blown loose from its binding and whipping around her in all directions. Flashes of lightning showed him her face, watching him, her eyes wide, her lips parted. Against all odds, his body hardened for her. Even knowing what he had to do to her, even as his mind railed against it, against taking her here like this, his heart was beating impossibly fast. He began walking towards her, and with every step closer, a primal lust built within him, fueled even further, no doubt, by the dark energy swirling ever stronger around them. He moved like a predator, closing in on his prey, his mind flooding with the primitive urge to take his mate, vanquishing all other thoughts. He could not have stopped. She was his, and it was time.

Faith watched Bren coming towards her, saw the moment his face changed from anguished acceptance to fierce intent. And then she knew, instinctively what he was about to do to her. She also knew there would be no stopping him. She struggled to watch him in the fierce wind, pushing her hair repeatedly back from her face. She could hear nothing but the sound of it rushing past her ears, and there was a strange scent in the air, acrid and vile.

She had wanted Bren, and despite her earlier misgivings, she now knew what kind of man he was. She was willing; she would have given him her body without reserve, but not like this! She could never have imagined it would come to this! Her eyes swept the circle around her. There were Eian and Drust, their backs turned as if not to witness her humiliation as she was about to lose her virginity in the crudest of ways. It all had to do with the storm; something about it was not right, not natural. It was too dark, too intense. The air was heavy, the colors… wrong. She knew without a doubt that this was evil, and that she had not escaped Mored when she fled from the cave. He had been right behind her all the time. But she had a part in all of this; she knew it, and it was no minor role. She could see it in the way Bren was looking at her with such fierce intent. She had a choice, and only mere seconds to decide. She could fight, and lose, against both Bren and the swirling darkness that was threatening to swallow them, or she could play her part, willingly. She could accept her destiny and embrace the warrior that now knelt over her, huge and strong and terrifying. This was the dangerous man she had been warned of. But it was also the man that she loved. And she had made her decision.