The Tempted (3 page)

It was a distressed bleating that brought her to a halt a second time. Morvan closed her eyes and sighed. There was an injured animal calling to her for help. But the longer she remained on Sinclair land, the more she put herself and her clan in peril.

Her shoulders slumped even as she turned toward the sound. No amount of danger could keep her from helping an animal in need.

Morvan followed the cries, recognizing them as being from a red deer. A few moments later, she moved aside foliage and caught sight of the majestic buck that had his impressive antlers tangled in the branches of a tree.

The buck caught her scent before he saw her, and it set him to jerking his antlers in a renewed attempt to get free. Morvan began to hum softly and walked toward the frightened animal. The louder the buck cried, the more his hooves flailed and his legs kicked, she louder she hummed, all the while moving slowly and calmly.

She slowed and cocked her head to the side when she caught the buck’s gaze. “Easy now, handsome. I’m here to help.”

The buck let out a snort, his black eyes wild with fatigue and fear. Morvan remained where she was, hoping the animal would calm a bit to allow her to get closer.

The humming helped, but she had to touch him before she could really help him. The longer she waited, the more the buck’s frenzy would double. By the marks on the tree from his antlers, and the grooves in the ground from his pawing of the earth, the poor animal had been stuck for some time.

With only five feet separating them, Morvan took a deep breath and moved closer. As soon as she did, the buck kicked out a hoof. Morvan grunted as it slammed into her stomach, knocking her backwards.

She clutched her abdomen but kept eye contact with the buck. Pushing past the pain, Morvan once more walked to the deer. He kicked her twice more in the legs before she was finally able to put a hand on his flank.

Instantly, the animal calmed. Tears gathered when she felt how the buck shook beneath her palm. She hummed and softly stroked him while walking around to his other side.

“It’s all right now. I’m here to get you loose,” she whispered in a sing-song voice that matched the tune she was humming.

The buck closed his eyes. Morvan ran her hand up to his spine, then forward to where his antlers sprouted from his head. She kept one hand on him at all times and slowly turned his head this way and that to get him free.

For the next ten minutes she worked, sweat dripping down her face. The buck’s breathing had calmed, but he needed food and water quickly.

Suddenly, the thick antlers came free. Morvan released the animal as he stumbled backwards a few steps. His black soulful eyes blinked at her for a heartbeat. Then he walked to her and lowered his head enough so that she could rub his forehead.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered with a smile. “Go now. The forest is calling to you.”

The buck turned and leapt over a fallen tree before he bounded out of sight. No matter how many animals she saved, their gratitude afterwards always made her teary.

Morvan leaned against a tree and gently touched her stomach, knee and shin where the deer had kicked her. She was lucky not to have any broken bones, but there was definitely going to be bruising. Despite the injuries she’d sustained, it was worth it to save an animal.

She turned east to return to MacKay land and had only gone a few steps when something urged her to go left. Morvan tried to fight the compulsion, but the force was too strong. Trepidation made her hands clammy. Four times she tried to turn around, and each time the force compelling her grew stronger.

Morvan gave up fighting and allowed the compulsion to take her where it would. To her horror, she walked deeper onto Sinclair land toward a rock structure that seemed to burst out of the ground and stretch to the heavens. Every step she took left a sinking feeling of doom that spread through her.

Quickly, she found herself at the structure, staring up. Morvan tried to turn around, but the force wouldn’t loosen its hold. With a sigh, she began to climb up a steep incline riddled with moss-coated rocks. By the time she reached the top, she was winded and weary. Precipitation began to fall in a soft drizzle that quickly increased. Morvan blinked through the rain.

All around her were massive boulders that dwarfed her. Morvan saw an opening to a cave and dashed. She didn’t know where to go next. The feeling that had been guiding her was gone. She hoped that meant she’d reached her destination, but as far as she could tell, there was no animal for her to help.

“Which means what, exactly?” she mumbled in frustration.

Not only was she on Sinclair land, but she was also miles away from her woods. She wished she were back in her cottage sipping a mug of tea.
 

Morvan poked her head out of the cave and lifted her face to the sky but saw nothing but gray. The storm could be over in a moment, or it could linger for hours. She didn’t like the idea of climbing back down the slope, especially after the rain had made the damp stones slick. But she couldn’t remain there anymore either.

Morvan glanced over her shoulder to the dark cave behind her. She didn’t know how far back it went, or what might be living inside, and she didn’t want to find out.

A look out of the cave once more revealed boulders that almost looked as if they were placed in a maze-like pattern. But that couldn’t possibly be right. No one but giants could lift those boulders, and there were no giants.

The atmosphere suddenly became ominous, foreboding. It wasn’t the weather, but…almost as if a dark presence were causing the shift. There was no denying the malevolence, the cruelty permeating the very air.

Morvan didn’t like the place. She wanted to get as far from it as she could.
 

With no weapon in sight, she walked out from the shelter of the cave and went back the way she had come to return to her cottage. Only it was blocked by a boulder. A boulder that hadn’t been there before.

Magic. Her mind voiced the word she wasn’t prepared to let past her lips.

Morvan looked up at the rock that seemed to reach the heavens. She tried to find a way around it, but both sides were melded into the rock on either side of it leaving her walled in. She spun around and faced the narrow path between the other rocks. If she wanted to leave, she was going to have to walk the trail.

Her heart thumped a slow, dreadful beat in her chest. The first step was the hardest. With every one after, she expected something to jump out at her from behind one of the boulders. She heard something behind her, but when she tried to turn around and see what it was, a voice in her head screamed for her not to. Morvan wisely kept her gaze ahead of her.

The path led her on a continual soft incline this way and that. Normally she knew her way instinctively, but she was so turned around that she didn’t know if she would ever find home again.

The rain was at least letting up enough so she could see a little ways ahead of her. That was how she saw the wall of rock. It towered before her, carved with thousands of markings of various sizes.

As a child of the woods, Morvan kept her Celtic roots close. She recognized the carvings as those of the Celts. By their worn look, these were ancient. It was as if the wall was important to the Celts. Why else would they carve all of these symbols into it? There was also a slight humming coming from the stone, as if it were alive.

Magic, her mind whispered again.

Magic had brought her to the cliff, and magic filled the air. Why had it chosen her? That dark feeling from earlier was now gone. It had dissipated after she’d left the cave. Morvan began to wonder if there were some kind of entity guiding her. It made her shiver with fear – and wonder.

No matter how many times she looked at the ancient Celtic symbols, she kept coming back to a carving of a wolf. The carving was larger than her hand, the knotwork exquisite.
 

She knew the wolf could be literal or symbolic. And it could mean any number of things. The Old Ways taught her that a man marked with the symbol of the wolf was fearless, brave, and rarely compromised. They were the men who became heroes in the heat of battle. They would not back down, and they would take no quarter. They thrived on challenges. Their character was impeccable, and they lived by a creed of honor.

What did that mean for her, however? There were a few instances in history when a woman was marked with a wolf, but those times were rare. Besides, Morvan knew her place. She was anything but a wolf.
 

She stared at the etching for long moments. Another overwhelming feeling filled her. This time, she felt the need to touch the wolf etching, to run her fingers over it. She didn’t know why it was so important.
 

Or why she hesitated.

Morvan swallowed and gave in to the need. As soon as her fingertip came in contact with the symbol, there was a loud boom, and a gust of air from the stone that sent her flying backwards.

CHAPTER TWO

One moment Stefan was encased in darkness, and the next he was standing in the rain. He didn’t stop to wonder why he was out of his prison. He ducked behind the first stone he saw, crouched down, and looked around for an enemy.

His hunt had begun. It was the same hunt he swore he would take if he ever got out of the hellish place Ilinca had put him in. The gypsy would pay for what she had done to him and his friends. All Stefan had thought about was the gypsy’s death, of how he would take her last breath. Until the old woman was dead, he couldn’t rest, couldn’t think about his friends.

He pushed his long, wet hair out of his face and stood. He needed to know where he was. Stefan climbed atop the boulder and surveyed the area.

There was nothing about the forest that looked familiar, but he recognized the trees and the mist-covered mountains. He was still in Scotland, and that meant it was only a matter of time before he found the gypsy.

Stefan leapt to the ground, landing with bent knees. He wouldn’t put it past Ilinca to send someone after him, but the old woman had no idea who she’d put into that darkness. If she thought he had nothing but anger in his heart before, now it consumed him.

He went from boulder to boulder. There was someone up ahead. He could hear their breathing as well as a grunt of pain. Stefan lifted his lips in a sneer. So, Ilinca hadn’t taken long to send her first assassin.

Stefan rushed from behind the boulder. He didn’t have a weapon, but with the fury inside him, his hands would be enough. Just as he rounded the next rock, he saw a tangle of dark skirts as a woman used a boulder to get to her feet. Woman or man, it didn’t matter. Anyone sent by Ilinca would die.

Then the woman turned to face him and he saw her arresting face. That one moment of hesitation surprised him as much as it did her. But Stefan was already on a collision course, and there was no time to alter his direction.

Time slowed, allowing him to see her nutmeg brown eyes widen and her lips part in surprise. Stefan managed to slow himself, but it wasn’t enough. The woman stepped back to get out of his way, only there was nothing behind her. Her arms flailed, and those big eyes of hers filled with panic. Then she was gone.

Stefan slid to a stop, one foot going over the side of the cliff as dirt and pebbles followed the woman down. He leaned over the side and spied the body amid the thick ferns and jagged rocks below.

He wanted to forget the woman, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t just her eyes, it was her face. Creamy skin unblemished except for a small, dark mole at the corner of her right eye. Inky black brows that matched her long braid gently arching over her eyes. High cheekbones and full lips made for kissing.

The woman wasn’t Romany. Her skin wasn’t nearly dark enough, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been sent by Ilinca.

Stefan stared down at the unmoving form of the woman for long moments. She was most likely dead anyway. The odds of her missing any of the rocks were slim. Besides, he had a gypsy to kill.

~ ~ ~

Pain, ferocious and intense, roughly dragged Morvan awake. She inhaled, and then wished she hadn’t as agony reverberated through her. She was afraid to move and make the pain worse. Yet she couldn’t remain where she was.

Drops of water fell on her face. Morvan opened her eyes and looked at the sky, blinking from the rain that had slackened to a light drizzle.
 

She wiggled her toes, thankful that it seemed nothing was wrong with her legs. Next she moved her fingers, again feeling nothing amiss with her upper body other than her ribs. Gingerly, she rolled onto her side, gasping at the pain. It took several attempts before she was able to move to her hands and knees. That’s when her arm began to throb.

Morvan looked at her left arm, but there was no tear in her dress or any blood. She could move her arm, so she didn’t suspect it was broken. Her ribs, however, already bruised from the buck’s kick, were the worst of everything.

Keeping her breathing light, Morvan eventually made it to her feet. Then wished she hadn’t when she grew dizzy. She was able to grab hold of a tree growing between two rocks to steady herself. She stood silently for several moments waiting for the world to stop spinning. Morvan closed her eyes and evened her breathing. That’s when she recalled the man.

He’d looked as wild and untamed as the animals in the forest. His eyes, a stunning hazel mix of blue, green, and gold, were stony and feral. Half of his face was hidden by his long, light brown hair.