Untamed Highlander

Ian shrugged. “I’m not so sure you should include yourself as a drough. You battled the evil inside you and won.”

She turned to face Ian then, no longer able to look at Hayden without feeling as if a hole was in her chest. “I am what I am, Ian. Nothing can change that, no matter how I wish it otherwise.”

“Sonya took your Demon’s Kiss and you never asked for it back.”

“What does that prove?” she asked in frustration. “It was empty anyway.”

Ian’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. “Do you want us to treat you as a drough? Do you want us to think every word out of your mouth is a lie?”

“What I want is irrelevant. The simple truth is I am a drough.”

“If you were really a drough the evil would have overtaken you centuries ago. Do you deny that?”

Isla sighed. She wasn’t sure why she was arguing with Ian. She didn’t want to be a drough, and certainly didn’t want others to think of her as one. Yet, she was, and she had the scars on her wrists to prove she went through the ceremony.

“Have you killed people?” Ian asked.

Isla frowned as she looked into his soft brown eyes. “You know I have.”

“Nay. Have you killed anyone? I’m not talking being under Deirdre’s control, I’m talking about you making the decision, you taking a weapon, and you ending another’s life.”

She swallowed and thought of her niece. “Nay.”

“Well, I have. Many of them. It doesn’t matter that they were Warriors and we’re at war. They were men first and foremost. I took their lives. I watched the life drain from their bodies.”

Isla shook her head and smiled. This was an argument she wouldn’t win. No matter what she said, Ian would have a defense for her. It was something a friend or family member would do, not a stranger who barely knew her.

She scratched at her cheek, befuddled at why Ian would go to such lengths. “Why do you care what I think of myself?”

Ian reached his hand out and gently ran his thumb over her cheek where she’d just scratched. “Because you’re an asset to this clan, and we need you. If you’re confident in yourself and your magic, then I suspect it will be more difficult for Deirdre to prey on you.”

“Am I interrupting something?”

Isla’s heart fluttered as she heard Hayden’s voice behind her. Ian’s warm gaze moved over her head, a cocky smile on his lips.

“Not at all,” Ian said. “Isla had a smudge of dirt on her face. I was merely removing it.”

Hayden wanted to toss Ian off the cliff. The way he’d had his hand on Isla’s face, as if he were caressing her as a lover, had sent a spurt of rage and jealousy through Hayden.

Hayden had told himself to walk on or even turn back and leap to the top of the cliffs, but he’d been unable to help himself.

Isla turned to look at him. The smudge of dirt was still on her left cheek. Hayden glanced down to see the dirt beneath her fingernails and on her hands.

Her hair was pulled back in another thick braid and flyaways caught in the sea breeze tangled around her face and into her eyelashes. He longed to pull her against him and block the wind from her as he bent and took her lips in a kiss.

He wanted it so desperately that Hayden found himself stepping toward her. And if Ian hadn’t been there, he might have done just that.

“Did you enjoy your swim?” Ian asked him.

Hayden forced his gaze from Isla’s lovely face to Ian’s. “I did.”

Silence stretched between the three of them. Hayden didn’t want to walk away, but he didn’t know what to say to Isla, especially not with Ian around. It was obvious something was going on between the two of them.

Hayden hated to think it hadn’t taken Isla long to replace him in her bed.

You’re the one that spurned her.

She could have at least waited a few days. She hadn’t waited a single night. And that’s what needled under Hayden’s skin.

He felt the tips of his fangs hit his tongue, a telltale sign his anger had risen, that his god was breaking free.

It was Isla who broke the silence. She stepped toward him, anger flashing in her ice-blue eyes. “Get hold of yourself, Hayden. You’re closer to the edge than you comprehend. The MacLeods need you. Every innocent person of this world needs you to fight against Deirdre. You cannot help anyone if you lose yourself to your god.”

He was so taken aback by her fury that he could only stare at her. He blinked as she turned on her heel, and then she was striding away.

Ian rubbed his jaw and slid his gaze to Hayden. “She’s right. We do need you. Both of you can deny what’s between you, but it’s obvious to everyone.”

“Just as its obvious she’s turned her attention to you.” As soon as it was out of his mouth Hayden regretted the words. It wasn’t Ian’s fault. Isla was a beautiful, alluring woman. If she turned her attention to a man, he’d be hard-pressed to deny her.

Ian’s face went hard as he looked Hayden up and down. “You know nothing. You’re blind to everything, Hayden, and that will be your downfall.”

Hayden waited until Ian had followed Isla before he scrubbed a hand down his face. Complicated now defined his life. And he hated it. He preferred simple. Everything was easier that way.

He glanced at Isla’s retreating back before she turned the corner and disappeared from view. Ian was right behind her, his long strides eating up the distance.

Every time Hayden saw Isla now, Ian was with her. Ian didn’t hide in the shadows as Hayden had done. Ian stood beside her, not caring what the others thought of him.

Maybe Hayden should have done the same. He snorted. That wasn’t like him. What he did was his business. No one else needed to know.

Once again Hayden wished Logan was there. This was the time Logan would say something clever, something that would make Hayden laugh and forget what he was upset about.

But Logan wasn’t there and memories of Isla wouldn’t loosen their hold.

TWENTY-NINE

Dunmore jerked on the reins, making his horse skid to a stop. It had taken more time than he’d liked, but he’d found the man he’d been searching for. Peter was one of those men others trusted. Maybe it was his kind face or his mild manner, but people told Peter things, secret things.

In the past Peter had been willing to share that information with Dunmore. For a price. Everyone had a price, and Dunmore had found Peter’s easily enough.

If there was anyone who knew where more Druids were, it would be Peter.

Dunmore swung down from his mount and looked around. The wyrran were keeping themselves hidden, waiting for the time he would call for them. He faced the small, rundown cottage and lifted his lip in revulsion.

Peter had either been kicked out of his village, or he was trying to run from something. Dunmore chuckled to himself. Peter was most likely running from him, but it had done Peter little good.

The blacksmith at the village some twenty leagues away had given Dunmore the location. It had taken a few broken fingers and a broken nose, but Dunmore had gotten what he wanted.

“Peter, come out,” Dunmore called. “I know you’re in there. You doona want to make me come in for you.”

A moment later the door creaked open and Peter stuck his head out. His mousy brown hair was tangled and