His Enchantment (8 page)

Of Trálin.

Of their sleeping together throughout the night for warmth.

“Are you okay, lass?”

His sleepy burr rumbled through her, and awareness ignited. She shoved the dangerous thoughts away. “Aye. I woke up and for a moment wasna sure where I was.”

He shifted closer. “’Tis cold. Come back beneath the cape.”

With a shiver of need, Catarine slid beneath the thick cover.

The wind howled outside.

“No, I have no woman I care about.”

Heart pounding, too aware of him in the dark of the night with naught around them but each other, she stilled. “Why are you telling me now?”

“You asked.”

As if knowing there was no other woman in his life helped put him out of her mind? “I asked you hours ago. You are a frustrating man, Trálin MacGruder.”

“So I have been told.”

The smugness in his voice ate at her composure. “And may I add charming,” she said dryly.

“And what did you expect my mood to be hours before the sun rises?”

A valid point. Outside the entry, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, meager moonlight reflected off the vast expanse of white, the shadows of the forest as if smears against the pristine swath.

She glanced at the Scot, found hints of moonbeams slipping across his handsome face. “What is the favorite place you have visited?”

“You are still awake?” Lord Grey asked, his voice gruff.

“We will soon be with my men and the chance to talk about your past will be lost.”

“Mayhap for the best.”

Sadness touched her. “Is it?”

He hesitated. “Catarine, do you think ’tis wise for us to share more about ourselves?”

She lay back, closed her eyes.

“Catarine?”

“I am thinking.”

He laughed.

“You are making fun of me.

“Nay,” he replied. “I am trying to decide if I am going crazy.”

She turned, touched his mouth to feel his smile.

He stilled, gave a slow exhale, and his smile fell away. “’Tis dangerous.”

Her entire body vibrated with awareness. “I only wanted to feel your smile.”

Trálin shifted, his body now aligned with hers, his breath warm and soft upon her brow. With a slow, delicate sweep, his thumb slid across her cheek.

“That is nae my mouth.”

“Aye,” he replied, “with how I’m feeling about you this moment, I dare nae be foolish enough to touch it.”

Too aware of him, Catarine swallowed hard. “Why?”

“Because I might kiss you, and with as much as I want you,” he replied, his voice rough with desire, “I am unsure if I would stop.”

As Trálin forged through the snow, his words from last night to Catarine rolled through her mind. What would it be like making love with her? Though she was innocent of a man’s touch, with the depth of her feelings for him, how could it nae be amazing?

“’Tis knee-deep up here,” Trálin called.

“Better than the thigh-deep snow we traveled through earlier this morn,” she replied.

Against the morning sunlight crafting prisms in the new snow, he scanned the trail ahead. Since they had departed at first light, wind continued to whip the frozen slide of the ben, shaking the leafless branches with brutal disregard. “Aye,” he replied, tugging his cape closer, “but we still have a long way left to travel before we reach Stirling Castle.”

“How close are we?”

The hope and fatigue in her voice made his frustration grow. When she’d agreed to aid him in setting his king and queen free, ’twas but a short journey. Instead, she’d become separated from her men and had almost died. Neither did the attraction flaring between them help an already tense situation. “With our slowed pace,” Trálin replied, “mayhap another day.”

“I will pray that like us, the abductors have been slowed by the storm,” Catarine said.

A hope he held as well. Trálin turned and trudged forward. His boot slid on the slick surface, then caught purchase. With a crunch his foot sank into the snow as it had with his every step since they’d departed the cave.

He scanned the crisp layer of snow. Throughout the night the air must have warmed and allowed the surface to begin to thaw, but the sharp drop in temperatures early this morn had hardened the surface into a blanket of thin ice as they’d traveled. As if they needed the blasted hindrance? They’d barely made half the distance they needed to this day.

At his next step, the crusted snow splintered beneath his step, slid over the side. With a shuddering scrape, the fractured chunk plummeted toward the bottom. As if an omen, it slammed against a ledge far below and shattered. Catarine stared down to where the shards lay. “’Tis a long way to the bottom.”

Trálin damned the worry in her voice.

“Is there a shortcut we can take?”

“None that I would consider,” he replied.

“Because of me?”

Bedamned, why did the lass have to press? “Because ’tis too bloody dangerous.”

Shrewd eyes studied him. “Would you take the risk if you traveled alone?”

“Why are you pushing this point, lass?”

“There is a shortcut,” she stated.

He muttered a curse beneath his breath. “As if you bloody well do nae know the answer?”

Catarine arched a brow. “And you dare call me stubborn?”

“’Tis naught to make light of.”

“On that we agree.” Hands on hips, she glanced up the slope, turned. “If we travel over the top, will that take us to Stirling Castle?”

A muscle worked in his jaw. The lass would rile the calmest man. “Aye.”

“And ’twould be faster?”

“Indeed.”

Catarine arched a questioning brow. “Did you want to lead, or should I go first . . . being a wee lass?”

At her bravado, a smile tugged at his mouth. “Pushy as well.”

“Lord Grey, I have been around stubborn men my entire life.” With a frustrated sigh, he studied the steep incline. She was right. If they crossed over the top of the ben, they should make up a good portion of the hours the abductors had ahead of them. ’Twas not the time to ponder how they would free the royal couple, then meet up with the fey warriors, nor the hard travel to bring the king and queen to safety after. Those challenges would come soon enough.

“We will go over the top,” he said, “but I will lead.”

She remained silent.

He grunted. Wise as well as stubborn—a smart lass indeed. Snow reached his knees as he moved from the trail and started up.

Sweat drenching her brow, Catarine followed Lord Grey’s tracks. From his grim expression, he worried for her safety in taking this shortcut. Regardless of the dangers, ’twas the prudent decision.

The sun’s golden rays glistened off the hard surface of the snow as she continued, crafting rainbows along the curves of the half-ice-covered rock. For a moment she took in the unexpected beauty, then pushed on. Her breaths coming fast, she shoved her foot upon another rock.

At a staggered crop of rock, Trálin turned. “Take my hand.”

Snow whipped her face as she glanced up.

Wedged at the base of a rock, he clung to a sturdy limb, his hand outstretched.

Thankful, she laced her fingers in his, pushed off. Her boot landed next to his.

A grimace on his face, he nodded. “We can take a break here.”

Her every muscle ached. “Nay.”

“We have made good time.”

“Mayhap,” she replied, “but until we reach Stirling Castle, ’tis nae good enough.”

His mouth a hard line, Lord Grey turned and started up.

A short while later she followed him around the last few boulders to the top. Fatigue weighing on every limb, Catarine halted next to him on a flat snow- and ice-covered rock and stared at the impressive outline in the distance.

Framed by the roll of snow-laden hills and mounted upon a crag stood a fortress of grand magnificence. Culled stone borne by hundreds of men rose into the air with sheer defiance. A shudder wove through her as she looked past the intimidating structure and studied the flat of land beyond, cut by a river that wound in a lazy flow.

“Stirling Castle.” Pride filled his voice.

“’Tis stunning,” she said. “And as fine as any castle in the Otherworld.”

“Indeed?”

Somber, she nodded, well aware that battle-trained men had crafted the design. “With the castle’s strategic position, a guard could easily see any who approached.”

“Which is why we must keep to the shadows and glens during our descent. However quickly I wish to travel, we must take every precaution to ensure we are nae seen.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “At least we have the angle of surprise. Few would dare to cross over the ben.”

With the steepness of the slope and the slick crust of snow, ’twas dangerous. “If by chance we are seen, that we are but two will nae offer a threat.”

“Normally I would agree,” he said. “Because they hold the king and queen hostage, due to the direction we came from, our presence will raise their suspicions.”

“We could tell them we risked crossing the top of the ben because we are freezing.”

Trálin wiped the snow off of his cloak. “’Twould be the blasted truth.”

“Though I have cursed it all day, the wind will keep any loose snow in the air and offer, however thin, a shield.” Catarine glanced toward the clear blue skies bright with sunshine, fierce with the whip of cold wind. “But if the wind dies with the night, without clouds and a full moon as we approach, we could easily be seen.”

“Then,” he said, “we shall hope for the skies to become overcast.”

Though Lord Grey made light of the challenges they faced, however much he tried to shield her from it, it was clear he was worried. As if she didna hold the same concerns?

He gestured forward. “On with you now. Lagging behind like a lame mule.”

Unbidden, she laughed as she followed him down. “Lame mule?”

He glanced back. “I was trying to charm you. How did I do?”

At the desire in his eyes, the moment shifted to something dangerous. A moment where she could envision him in her life forever.

Catarine halted.

His expression a mix of desire and frustration, Trálin closed the distance. “I find it hard to be with you and nae kiss you.”

Her pulse raced. “’Tis a fact I find myself struggling with as well.”

Green eyes darkened. “’Twould make a mess of an already convoluted situation.”

Throat dry, she nodded. “It would.”

On a ragged breath, he lifted her chin. “And be bloody worth it.” His mouth claimed hers, hot and hard. As quick he broke the kiss, then stared at her a long moment. “Ah lass, I wish we had met under different circumstance.”

Aching at his words, Catarine shook her head. “Trálin, why did we have to meet now? Here?”

Sadness shadowed his gaze, and he stepped back. Wind spiraled between them as if in a myth. “I dinna know the why of it, only that you and I can never be.” Regret wrinkling his brow, he turned on his heel and started down the ben.

And if all went well, this night they would free his king and never again would they be alone.

For the best.

Except his passionate kiss lingered on her lips, his tenderness exposing how his feelings were growing toward her. More unsettling, though innocent, Trálin was a man who lured her to give in to temptation, and tread on a forbidden path she’d heard whispers of from women within her castle.

“’Tis a mistake.”

At his gruff voice, she jumped. Heat stroked her cheeks as she’d nae noticed he’d halted and was staring at her, his face rough with desire. “What is?”

“By the look in your eyes,” he replied, “’tis safer to nae answer.”

It was, but often those who took the risks of life were rewarded the most. “Why must we come from different worlds?”

The hard line of his mouth tightened. “And if I came from the Otherworld, with your pledge to handfast with Prince Zacheus, how would it change anything?”

“’Twould nae.” She swallowed hard. “’Tis best if we move on.”

“Catarine.”

The soft burr of his voice slid through her like warmed wine. “What?”

“That you are happy in your life is what I desire. Never can it be more.”

Tears burning her throat, Catarine stepped past him and started down the perilous trek. She would focus on their reaching Stirling Castle, on saving his king and queen, then on discovering who had murdered her uncle. To mull over thoughts of a life with Trálin would invite naught but angst.

She stepped around a large boulder. Time would help her forget him, forget the feelings he inspired, forget that for the first time in her life she’d found a man who made her feel complete. As she took her next step, her boot landed on an ice-covered rock and she slipped. Arms flailing, she tried to regain her foothold.

Trálin’s hand caught her shoulder. “Careful, lass. ’Twill be slick the entire way down.”

Her pulse racing, she nodded, refusing to look at him and allow him to see her tears, the foolish reason for her near tumble. “It will.”

“Let me go first,” he stated.

“What does it matter?” she asked. “If either of us starts to slide down, neither of us will be able to stop the other.”

He strode past her. “Nor will walking with your emotions mulling your thoughts allow you to make wise choices in your steps.”

His expression taut, he turned and started down the steep incline.

Trembling, she followed.

Streaks of orange-red sheeted the sky as, halfway down, they reached the clutter of boulders jutting out in a reckless array. Beyond the snow-covered shield rose the land embracing Stirling Castle.

“Do you need to rest?” he asked.

However much she wanted to agree, she shook her head. Except for stopping for short breaks on their way down and a few oatcakes she’d eaten as they’d walked, they’d continued at a grueling pace. Nor did it help that she’d slept little last eve. But, with Stirling Castle in sight, ’twas worth every step.

“Careful,” Trálin cautioned as he glanced back. “Though the slope appears smooth, there are many drop-offs hidden beneath the thick snow.”

Exhausted, Catarine wiped her brow and nodded. “’Twill be nice to get out of the cold.”

“Aye.” He started forward.

Shielding her face against the wind, she began her descent. With her each step, clumps of snow broke free, then tumbled down the steep incline before they hit errant rocks to shatter into a mist-laden smear.

Ahead, Trálin navigated the knee-deep drifts. As he passed a clump of shrubs half-covered in the deep snow, he glanced back. “How fare thee?”

“I am fine.”

A frown dipped his mouth as he studied her. “Are you sure, lass?”

She forced a smile. “Aye.”

Legs trembling from fatigue, she took another step. Snow broke off the edge of the bank before her, then rolled down to slam against a sturdy shrub. Horrific memories of the avalanche and her near death assailed her. Her body tense, she made to take another step; her foot slipped. Catarine steadied herself, barely.

Trálin whirled. “What is wrong?”

Embarrassed to be caught up in her musings, she shook her head and straightened. “Naught. I was but—”

The snowbank beneath her gave way. “Trálin!”

He grabbed for her.

Their fingers touched.

Broke free.

She screamed. Air, cold and brutal, rushed down her throat as she slid down the slope. Blurs of white and dark swept past. “Catarine!” The wind mutilated Trálin’s distant shout.

Snow clogged her throat as a shrub down the slope came into focus.

She reached out.

The leafless branch whipped her hands.

Missed!

Ahead, the frozen snow curved over a partially exposed bolder.

Struggling to keep her wits, she shifted her weight to avoid the half-barren ground. She missed the first jut of rock, then was again thrown up. She slammed to the ground.

And began to roll.

Panic tore through Trálin as he hurried down the battered snow trail in her wake.

Far below, Catarine’s body continued to roll.

Bedamned! Trálin lunged over the broken bank. Snow battered him as he slid, rocks threatened his precarious balance, but he used his arms and legs in a controlled slide, his fear for Catarine’s life growing with every second. He shifted, barely missed a dense leafless thicket sprinkled with barren rock.

Far below, Catarine’s body came to a halt.