Untamed Highlander

know about. “I’d rather you ask someone else.”

“We’d talk to Broc, but he’s on a mission.” Fallon shrugged. “If you really doona want to do this, we will find someone else.”

Hayden clenched his jaw. He didn’t want anyone spying on Isla, not when he did it himself anyway. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll do it. You trust me enough not to kill her?”

“Aye,” Quinn said. “I saw how protective of her you were when you carried her into this hall. That wouldn’t have changed had you never discovered she was a drough.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Hayden quipped. “We’ll never know, now will we?”

The smile on Quinn’s lips was slow and knowing. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Hayden held Quinn’s gaze. Was his desire for Isla so obvious that Quinn had seen it? Surely not.

Quinn slapped his hands on the table and stood. “I think it’s time I returned to my bed and my wife.”

Fallon nodded and followed Quinn from the hall, leaving Lucan alone with Hayden.

“I would have thought spying on Isla would be what you wanted,” Lucan said.

Hayden rubbed his tired eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Did everyone see his attraction for Isla? “I’d rather be out hunting and killing Deirdre’s Warriors.”

“We all would. Quinn said you were fine, but I wonder if having a drough here is too much for you. Not that I would blame you.”

“It’s not like she’s the drough who killed my family,” Hayden said. “She’s helping us against Deirdre. For now, that’s good enough. If she turns on any of us, I’ll be the first to strike her down.”

Lucan twisted his lips in a grimace. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. The women have taken a liking to Isla.”

“For everyone’s sake, I hope it all works out as we hope. But what are the odds?”

“Not very good, I’m afraid.”

Hayden nodded, hating to hear his own thoughts said aloud. “Unfortunately, I agree.”

“Why didn’t you go with Galen, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Logan needed to go,” Hayden answered. “Though I would have liked to track down those Druids and the artifact myself.”

“Is something wrong with Logan?”

“Something is wrong with all of us. You know that better than anyone.”

Lucan snorted. “Aye, I do. Is there anything we can do for him?”

“You did. You let him go with Galen.”

Lucan rubbed his chin and shifted in his seat, a question in his sea-green eyes.

“Just spit it out,” Hayden said with a sigh.

“What do you mean?”

“You want to ask me something. Just ask it. If I don’t want to answer it, I willna.”

Lucan laughed and shook his head. “I always did like your forthrightness.”

“Some would call it rudeness.”

“Maybe.” Lucan chuckled again. “That would be Ramsey that called you rude. Correct?”

Hayden grinned. “Correct. Now ask your question.”

The smile vanished, replaced by a grim face. “You mentioned a drough killed your family.”

Hayden glanced at his hands. If he wanted to call MacLeod Castle home, and he truly trusted the brothers, there was no use in keeping what happened to his family from them. He didn’t like speaking about his past, but he considered these men close enough that he could share his past with them. “So I did.”

“I didna know, Hayden. You don’t need to say more.”

But Hayden thought he should. After all, the MacLeods had given him a new home. “I think I do. You wish to know what happened?”

“If you’re willing to tell it,” Lucan said.

“I had been wounded after a battle with a rival clan. The wound wouldn’t kill me, but I was in bad shape and needed to rest. I knew it was only a matter of time before my clan found me, so I settled in a grove of trees and bound my wounds.”

He paused and took a breath, unable to look at anything but his hands in front of him. “I awoke to feel pain unlike anything I’d ever known before. There was a woman before me, a woman with unnatural white hair and eyes that speared my heart with fear.”

“Deirdre,” Lucan said.

Hayden nodded. “Once the pain had ended and I didn’t feel as if my bones were going to pop out of my skin, I heard her laughing. I knew I had to get away, so I jumped up and ran. I never looked back, never stopped. Something told me I had to get to my family. When I did, I found them…” He cleared his throat twice before he could get out the words. “They were dead. My mother, my father, and my brother. All dead, all viciously killed.”

“What happened next?” Lucan asked.

“I barely had time to register what had happened before wyrran and other Warriors surrounded me. I was knocked unconscious, and when I awoke I was in Cairn Toul with Deirdre standing over me. She was angry that I had dared to run and wanted to punish me. She used her hair to flay the skin from my back, all the while taunting me with how she had sent a drough to kill my family. I had lost everything, so I latched onto the only thing I could. Hatred and vengeance.”

“It explains your loathing of droughs. We all wondered, and I knew it had to be something terrible for you to hate Cara so. I am sorry, Hayden.”

“I doona hate Cara, I hate that she has drough blood in her veins and around her neck. We all had terrible things happen to us.” Hayden shrugged, uncomfortable talking about something that still haunted him. “Your clan was murdered. So was my family.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Lucan rose to his feet and walked around the table to clasp Hayden on the shoulder. “We may not be of the same blood, but we are brothers. Every Warrior here is my brethren. Doona carry your burdens alone. They will eventually bury you.”

Hayden waited until Lucan was at the top of the stairs before he whispered, “It’s too late, Lucan. They already have buried me.”

FOURTEEN

Isla left the tower hours before dawn. She had rested as much as she could, but she refused to allow herself to fall into a deep sleep where the nightmares awaited her.

While she had sat in her new chamber, she had let her mind wander over memories of the bakery and her father’s favorite recipes.

It wasn’t long before she decided to see what the kitchens at MacLeod Castle offered. There was nothing else for her to do, and she needed something to occupy her time before she went daft thinking of the near kiss Hayden had given her.

To Isla’s surprise, she found all she needed to make her father’s delicious custard pastry. Isla was glad she was alone as she tried to find her way in the kitchen again. It had been ages since she had cooked or even been in a kitchen. It took her longer than she’d have liked to get her bearings, but once she did, everything came back to her in a rush as if she hadn’t spent five centuries away.

She was so immersed in her cooking she didn’t see the sun rise or notice when others joined her.

“It smells wonderful,” Marcail said as she moved to the opposite side of the large work table. “What are you baking?”

Isla glanced up and smiled. She ducked her head and rubbed her nose on her shoulder since her hands were covered in flour. “Custard pastries. They were my mother’s favorite.”

“I cannot wait to try one.”