Highland Mist (14 page)

He laid her on the shore, the water lapping around them. Her golden-brown eyes were glazed with desire and her lips swollen from his kisses.

“Why did you stop?” She reached to stroke his face.

You deserve better than being taken your first time like this
.

“It should never have happened.”

“Why do you fight what’s between us? I may be an innocent, but surely what’s between us isn’t common.”

Conall ignored her words that cut to his heart. “I swore to my mother I’d get Iona back.”

Her eyes, just moments ago filled with passion and longing were now filled with doubt and mistrust as his words sunk in. She rolled from underneath him. He watched as she dressed and walked back to the castle.

He flipped onto his back, his arms out wide and gazed at the sky. Just moments before the sun had been shining, but now dark, ominous clouds rolled in. Quite fitting for his mood.

* * * * *

The Shadow narrowed his eyes on Conall. Damn him, he thought. Conall had stepped over the boundaries with Glenna. He had given her his protection, but now things had been taken to a new level.

On silent feet the Shadow crept back to the castle. He would fix Glenna once and for all. Conall was a powerful warrior, and he didn’t want to fight Conall. All of his plans had been well thought-out, but he hadn’t thought about Conall falling for Glenna.

He growled. He had to stop this before Conall claimed her body as his own. But he would have to watch himself. The Druids had been active of late with the Otherworld beings. The Fae were meddling in human lives as they hadn’t done in an age.

The Shadow crouched behind a tree as Conall walked past. He sucked in his breath as Conall stopped and listened. With slow movements, the Shadow eased his dirk out of his sleeve in case Conall ventured any closer.

But Conall walked on and the Shadow was able to hurry back to the castle to put his next set of plans into action.

Chapter Ten

The main hall buzzed with conversation. The sounds of knives scraping trenchers and goblets banging on tables would make anyone think everything was normal. But it wasn’t.

Glenna could
feel
their eyes on her.

Ire simmered just below the surface, but she was determined to keep it hidden. She had refused to stay in her room. She had stayed hidden her entire life. No more would she hide from the world because they didn’t want to see her.

Well, they would just have to get used to seeing her. She had made up her mind after she left Conall at the loch that she had everything to live for now. Knowing she wasn’t a MacNeil helped to heal some of her wounds, but she would exact her vengeance against him.

Maybe then she could think of finding someone she could grow old with, have children with even. She didn’t think too long on that, though, because she was afraid. Fate would take that from her as well.

Thunder rolled in the distance as the rain continued to fall. She was glad for it. The rain cried the tears she refused to shed. After the tender way Conall had touched her in the loch, it was hard to bear his cold treatment now, if he acknowledged her at all.

He had been furious when she had declined to stay in her chamber. Oh, he had used what happened with the clan’s hatred as an excuse, but she had a feeling he didn’t want to see her.

She rose from the dais to sit with Ailsa before the fire when the pain hit. It brought her to her knees and she clutched her chest as the hatred seared painfully through her.

Gregor and Conall were at her side in an instant, but she paid them no heed as she frantically searched the hall. The woman was easy to find. She didn’t try to hide. She stood against the wall, her dark red plait falling over her shoulder as she stared at Glenna, hatred forming an aura around her. It was the same woman who had looked so longingly at Conall the other day in the bailey.

“By the saints, Glenna. I knew you should’ve stayed in your chamber,” Conall whispered in her ear.

“Who. Is that?” Glenna managed to ask him as walked her to the fire.

“Who?”

She gasped for air, silently begging for some reprieve from the intense pain. Finally, slowly, the pain began to ebb. When she looked back to where the woman was, she was gone.

“Who?” Conall asked again, his silver eyes clouded with worry.

“She’s gone now. She’s very pretty with red hair.”

“Effie,” Conall said, a sigh leaving his lips.

Gregor gently turned her head to him, his black eyes filled with worry. “Are you all right?”

She tried to smile to reassure him, but knew she failed miserably. “I think I’ll be fine.”

He nodded and walked off.

She watched him, wondering about his concern for her when Conall said, “Is there something going on between you and Gregor?”

She almost laughed. Instead she shook her head. “I met him the day you took me from the MacNeil. You know more of him than I do.”

He seemed satisfied with that answer and helped her over to the fire so she could sit with Ailsa. Before he could leave, Glenna took hold of his arm. “Why does Effie hate me?”

“For a brief time we were lovers. She thought to be my wife even though I never gave her any reason to think that.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost two years ago.”

* * * * *

Glenna thought about what Conall had told her as she situated Ailsa on her lap. The child had asked for a story before bed and she had agreed. She had never been around children before, and she wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity.

After the story had been told, one with a beautiful princess, Fae folk and a handsome prince who saved the day from the wicked villain, Ailsa was taken to bed.

Glenna stayed by the fire. She sat alone in one of the massive chairs, but she preferred it that way. The hostility from the clan had lessened, except for a few, and she could handle the pain their hatred caused from this distance thanks to Moira’s teaching.

The fire crackled and hissed, its yellow, orange and red flames drawing her deeper into her thoughts. As she gazed into the flames, she saw herself in a chamber lying naked on a bed. Hands, big and strong, came around her and drew her back against a chest of solid muscle.

Conall.

She leaned her head to the side to grant him access to her neck as his mouth and tongue found spots on her skin that drove her wild with longing. Her hips rocked back against his, his rod hot and hard against her back. He rolled her over and took a nipple in his mouth as he guided her hand to his shaft and closed her fingers around him.

Glenna moaned. He was velvet smooth and so hot he seared her hand. She couldn’t take her eyes off her hand as it encircled him. Liquid beaded at the tip of his rod. She moved her finger to catch it and brought it to her lips.

With a deep growl he drove into her, filling her with his hardness. She moaned and moved her hips in time with his. Pleasure so intense it took her breath away engulfed her. Her only thought was of him and the passion between them.

Her breath came faster and faster as he pumped in her, bringing her closer and closer to…something.

The sound of wood splintering jerked her out of her vision. She swallowed and tried to control her breathing. She looked around the room to see if anyone watched her when her eyes found Conall.

Even from the great distance separating them she could see the molten desire burning in his eyes, and her body pulsed with a need so strong it almost brought her to him. It was almost as though he had seen her vision.

Her breasts tightened in response, and she knew she had to leave the hall. She stood, and with shaky legs made her way to her chamber. She had just closed the door when it opened, and Conall filled the doorway.

“Is everything all right?” he asked with one hand braced against the door.

“I’m fine. Just tired,” she lied, her body throbbing with need.

For him.

His eyes roamed over her, sending a thrill down her spine. He wanted her. It shone brightly in his eyes, but he was fighting against it.

Conall gripped the chamber door in an effort to keep from walking into her chamber and kissing those full, pink lips. The vision he had below of them making love had brought his already-aching cock to a state of need like he had never experienced. It was made worse when he realized she had not only seen his vision but shared it as well. When she had looked at him with her lips parted and chest rapidly rising and falling, he had nearly taken her right then.

He didn’t know what had prompted him to follow her, but now that he was here, he couldn’t leave. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted her. On the bed. Naked. And willing.

“Tell me what Moira has told you.” He had to take his mind off loving her or they would end up on the floor in matter of moments.

“She told me the MacNeil used me,” she said, and looked away from him.

For a brief moment a flash of sadness had shone in her golden brown eyes. “There’s more. Tell me,” he said, and walked into the chamber to stand beside her.

Her head jerked up and he saw the anger radiating from her just seconds before the flames in the fireplace roared to life. He looked from the fire to her. She had caused it to do that. Her powers were great.

“Have you always been able to do that?”

She sat on the bed, her face bleak. “I cannot control it.”

“My plaid the other day. Was that you?”

She smiled sheepishly and lowered her head.

“I gather you learned something of yourself today.” He hated the fact the Druids had gotten to her and now compromised his oaths, but he had seen her there. She belonged.

He didn’t think her face could become any more desolate, but he was wrong. She blinked away tears, her mouth trembling. “MacNeil isn’t my father.”

Conall sat next to her, stunned. This had been the last thing he had expected to hear. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I’m relieved,” she said as hatred heated her gaze.

“If MacNeil isn’t your father, who is?”

“A man named Duncan Sinclair.”

The room tilted around him as memories poured in. It had been eighteen years since Sinclair and his wife had been murdered along with their three daughters. The infant had never been found and it was assumed she had perished with her family. No one had thought she had been taken. And the prophecy Moira had spoken of rang clear and true in his head.

In a time of Conquering

There will be three

Who will end the MacNeil line

Three born of the

Light, Harvest and Beltaine

Who will destroy all at the

Feast of the Dead

He raised his eyes and looked to Glenna. “What happened to your parents?”

“MacNeil killed them.”

“What else did Moira tell you?”

“That I was part of a prophecy. One of three Druids who will fulfill that prophecy.”

“And the other two?” he asked, his throat thick and tight.

“I…haven’t asked,” she said, her head bowed. “I was trying to learn all that I could of my past.”

“All these years we thought you were dead.”

“What?”

He recovered himself and stood. Discord brewed inside him and he needed time to think. “Good eve, Glenna.”

Without another word he left her and climbed to the square tower overlooking the loch. The tower had always offered him solace. He inhaled the clean night air deeply, filling his lungs with its freshness from the recent rain. The stars and moon sparkled off the still waters of the loch, but the war continued to rage within him.

His Druid side urged him to bring Glenna to Moira to finish her training so the prophecy could come to pass. But his other half wanted Iona returned as he had promised his mother.

The oaths he had given hung around his neck like a noose. He had to get Iona back. If he didn’t he would fail his mother. And if returning Glenna to MacNeil could achieve this, then he would do it.

He had to.

“I can’t,” he whispered, and lowered his head to the cool, damp stones of the castle. The thought of handing her back to the MacNeil turned his stomach. Not to mention if the prophecy wasn’t fulfilled all of Scotland could be lost.

But he would have to make his decision soon. The MacNeil and his clan would arrive any day. If only he would have gotten reassurance that Iona hadn’t been killed.

* * * * *

“Go,” urged the Shadow to the young serving maid. He had seen the way she eyed Conall during the evening meal and it had given him a way to drive a wedge between Conall and Glenna.

The maid, Lorna, turned and gave him one last look at the door to Conall’s chamber. “Are you sure he asked for me? He’s never paid me much attention.”