Then he slowly lowered himself until he was sitting with Morvan in his arms. “With one touch she calmed the monster within me. I was in a fit of bloodlust and was after her. I was going to kill her because I couldn’t control my anger. I grabbed her, and that’s when the haze of fury cleared. I can’t lose her.”
Morcant squatted beside Stefan. “You said she’s a child of the forest. You’ve brought her back. She’ll be all right.”
Stefan looked into Morcant’s eyes before he turned to Ronan. “If she doesna live, you’ll have to kill me. You both need to understand that. The grief mixed with my anger will be too much. I willna be able to be stopped.”
Ronan put his hand on Stefan’s shoulder. “We’ve no’ let you down before. We willna this time either.”
Stefan pulled Morvan closer. “You didna just give me peace, Morvan. You showed me gentleness and kindness. But your greatest gift was your love. Come back to me. I willna ever leave you again.”
Hours faded with the daylight. With each passing hour where Morvan didn’t wake, Stefan felt his anger try to stir. He refused to give in to it. He no longer cared about Ilinca and getting his revenge. All that mattered was Morvan and the new life he wanted with her.
Ronan and Morcant had found him, but more importantly, Stefan had found Morvan. For the first time in his life, he prayed. Long and hard.
The stars were bright overhead when Morvan finally shifted her head. Stefan’s eyes snapped open. He held his breath, ignoring the four others sitting around the fire.
“Morvan,” he whispered.
Her eyes slowly opened to meet his. “Stefan.”
He couldn’t contain his joy as he ran a hand down her face. “How do you feel?”
“Better. You came back?”
“Aye.”
She nodded. “You figured out that Ronan and Morcant were here.”
“I came back for you. I tried repeatedly to leave, but I could never get verra far. My mind was filled with you. It took me long enough, but I realized that I couldna leave you. You touched my soul, Morvan. You gave me a gift I thought I’d never have.”
She was very still as she whispered, “What?”
“Love. I love you more than life itself. I know I’ll have to earn your love, but I’m prepared to do whatever it takes.”
She put her finger over his lips to stop him from talking. “You’ve already done all that you could. I saw you,” she said, placing her hand over his heart. “I felt you. There is nothing else for you to do, Stefan Kennedy, because I already love you.”
He couldn’t believe fate had finally smiled upon him, but he wasn’t going to question it. Stefan brought his head down to her lips and kissed her.
Morvan’s arms wrapped around his neck and he deepened the kiss. Dimly, he heard the sound of four sets of footsteps leaving. Then he didn’t care as the desire took them.
EPILOGUE
Morvan climbed down the cliffs with Stefan. They had passed the hours of the night with lovemaking, talking, and more lovemaking. She was pleasantly sore, and the look in Stefan’s hazel eyes whenever his gaze met hers made her stomach flutter.
He had said she saved him, but in truth, she thought it was the other way around. She inwardly chuckled as she recalled him telling her that they had the rest of their lives to debate it.
As Stefan lifted her off the last boulder to the ground, Morvan faced Ronan and Meg and Morcant and Leana who had remained at the base of the cliff. They were all smiling.
Ronan cleared his throat. “At this point with Morcant, I asked him and Leana to come to the castle to help me fight the MacKays. I doona think that offer will be accepted by you.”
“Nay,” Stefan said and looked at Morvan as he tightened his grip on her hand. “Our place is in the forest.”
“We’ll help in the coming battle,” Morvan said.
Stefan raised a brow. “You want me to fight?”
“They need you.”
Morcant rocked back on his heels. “Are you no’ afraid of his monster returning?”
Morvan cupped his face. “That’s what I’m for.”
“Then I guess we’d better get busy building you and Stefan a cottage,” Meg said.
Ronan glanced up at the cliff. “As close to the castle as we can, right?”
They all laughed at the comment. Morvan looked up at Stefan as he pulled her against him. Fate had been leading her toward Stefan. For all those years she’d thought she would spend her life alone, it was all worth it to finally have the love of a man like Stefan.
“What of Ilinca?” she whispered.
Stefan shrugged. “I’d rather focus on you, and them,” he said with a jerk of his chin to Morcant, Leana, Meg, and Ronan.
“And Daman.”
Stefan nodded slowly. “And Daman. I’ll find him.”
Morvan didn’t have any doubts. If all three of them had found their way to Ravensclyde, the odds were good that Daman would, as well. She couldn’t wait until all four of them were back together again. Stefan was happy, but he wouldn’t be complete until Daman was found.
The air stirred around her, and Morvan knew that the old gypsy wasn’t finished with the four men yet.
Look for the next Rogues of Scotland story –
THE SEDUCED
– Coming February 9, 2015!
Daman scratched his jaw and ignored the thunder and lightning that had been on display over the next mountain for the past half hour. The knot in his gut about the gypsy camp only intensified the longer he was there.
Something bad was going to happen. He knew it just as sure as he knew the storm coming in would last for an entire day. The sooner Ronan, Stefan, and Morcant were finished with the women the better.
Daman wouldn’t make the mistake of returning with his friends again. And he would do his best to prevent them from coming back as well. Perhaps a talk with the gypsies was in order. They were on his clan’s land.
Three hours had already passed already. It was time for he and his friends to leave. Daman rose and walked between the wagons to get their attention. Then he paused.
In the middle of the camp was a large fire and many of the gypsies sitting around it. Two were playing the violin in a hauntingly eerie song that somehow kept in time with the thunder. Among the gypsies was Stefan who stared into the fire as if searching for something. An old woman sat off by herself, her gaze on the wagon Ronan had entered hours ago.
Unease prickled Daman’s skin.
He wanted to leave, but he wasn’t going to go without his friends. Some unknown, unnamable emotion was coursing through him. Every instinct told him they needed to leave. Immediately.
Daman rose and walked to the edge of the camp. He looked at the ground, then up at the wagon where Ronan and Ana were. He could shout out Ronan’s name, but his friend wouldn’t answer even if he heard him.
Daman’s gaze slid to Stefan. With Morcant busy, he could get Stefan’s attention, but Stefan was talking to three male gypsies. Besides, Daman didn’t need help. All he had to do was cross the boundary and get his friends.
He looked up at the sky and stared at the thousands of stars. The moon was only a sliver in the night, leaving the land cloaked in darkness. Daman ran a hand through his hair and returned to the tree. As long as it took, he’d wait for his friends. Then he’d get them away.
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than the night was shattered an anguished scream. It was filled with despair and fury dragged from the depths of Hell itself.
Daman’s blood ran cold, because he knew his apprehension was becoming fact. He looked from Stefan to Ronan, who was exiting the wagon. Ronan was shirtless and standing outside Ana’s wagon with a hand on the hilt of his sword. Ronan looked at an old woman who stared at something in the grass.
Daman reached the edge of the camp when Morcant exited a wagon still fastening his kilt. Something bad was coming for them.
Daman searched the ground for where Ronan and the old woman were looking. The bright pink and blue skirts of Ana, Ronan’s lover was visible from the dim light of the fire. As was the dagger sticking out of Ana’s stomach.
The odds of any of them getting out of the gypsy camp without a fight wasn’t in their favor. By the looks exchanged between the gypsies, they were prepared to die to avenge Ana – regardless that Ronan didn’t kill her.
Daman looked to Morcant and Stefan and saw the slight nod of Stefan’s head. Morcant slowly began to pull his sword from his scabbard as Ronan shook his head in denial.
“Ronan,” Stefan said urgently, palming the hilt of his sword, and waited.
There was a moment of silence, as if the world held its breath.
Then the old woman let loose a shriek and pointed her gnarled finger at Ronan. Ronan’s eyes widened in confusion and anger.
Daman heard a gypsy near him whisper a name – Ilinca – as he stared at the old woman. Ilinca’s face was contorted with grief and rage.
Words, hurried and unfamiliar, fell from Ilinca’s lips. The language was Romany, and by the way Ilinca’s dark eyes narrowed with contempt, it was a curse she put on Ronan.
Daman waited for Ronan to grab his sword and the battle to begin. When nothing happened, Daman looked harder and realized Ronan being held against his will. His pale green eyes were wide with confusion.
Daman opened his mouth to shout to the others, but Stefan drew his sword the same time Morcant rushed Ilinca. The old gypsy shifted her gaze to Morcant, and he halted awkwardly, her words freezing him in place.
Once Morcant was taken care of, her gaze returned to Ronan and continued speaking in the strange language.
“Stefan!” Daman shouted.
But it was too late. Stefan’s fury had been let loose, and the monster was free. Stefan released a battle cry and leapt over the fire toward Ilinca. Stefan hadn’t gotten two steps before the old gypsy pinned him with a look that jerked him to a halt instantly.
Then the old woman’s gaze turned to Daman. He sighed and thought of his friends. There was one rule between the four of them – they lived or died together. Daman stepped over the boundary, a cold tremor rushed down his spine at Ilinca’s triumphant smile.
He was immediately surrounded by men. Undeterred, Daman left his sword in the scabbard and used his dirk and his hands to slice, stab, punch, and kick anyone stupid enough to get close.
Five men fell – two dead. He put another three on the ground before he found his limbs immobile. No matter how hard he tried to move his body, he couldn’t.
The men parted, and Ilinca walked to him. Daman looked around, but Ronan, Morcant, and Stefan were gone – vanished as if they never were.
He glared down at the old woman. How he wanted to tell her how he was going to kill every last gypsy he came across as punishment for what she did to his friends, but the words wouldn’t come. Ilinca controlled every bit of him.
“Why didn’t you enter the camp?” Ilinca asked him.
His eyes narrowed as he realized she had allowed him the ability to speak. She wanted answers, but he wasn’t going to give them to her. His lip curved in a sneer.
“So, you don’t want to answer. You don’t like to ask for help, do you? Your friends have been cursed, but you already know that.” Ilinca drew in a breath and looked him over closely. “Why did you have to come into camp? You were wise enough to keep out earlier.”
Daman saw her hands shaking. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. She was upset at Ana’s death, but he was desperate to find his friends. Even if it meant talking to her. “Where are the others?”
“Some place they can’t hurt anyone or themselves.”
“Ronan didna kill Ana.”
Ilinca lifted her chin. “He might not have stuck the blade in her, but he’s still responsible. Just as Morcant is responsible for bedding an innocent and ruining the chance to align our people.”
Daman tried to move his arms, but she still held him in place. “And Stefan?”
“You know the answer to that better than anyone else here. His rage.”
“What are you going to do with me?”
The old woman stepped closer and the gypsies closed in around him. “I had a vision a week ago of this very night, though I didn’t see my granddaughter’s death. I knew each of you four have something important to do.”
“Do? I’m no’ important.”
“I can only repeat what I know.” Her shoulders drooped. “My magic will ensure each of you reach your destination. What you do there is up to you. You can be freed. Or you can spend eternity in your prison.”
Daman got that bad feeling again as Ilinca placed her hand on his forehead. He wanted to jerk away, but she still held him frozen. His eyes grew heavy, and the more he fought to keep them open, the more tired he became.
“Don’t fight it, Daman,” Ilinca’s voice whispered in his head.
It was his nature to fight. He fought against it, but it was too much. The world went black like the snap of someone’s fingers.
Ilinca sighed as she dropped her hands and took a step back from Daman. Then she nodded and the men carried him to her wagon and brought him inside. Grief rose up in her like a tidal wave. She would tend to Daman later. Right now she needed to bury her granddaughter was buried.