The first streaks of light broke through the gray of the morning. The sky was clear, the sunrise vibrant with colors of deep orange and royal purple.
Galen had seen many such mornings in his years as a Warrior, but it was the first since his god was unbound that he had felt such fear claw at his belly.
“A beautiful morning,” Logan said as he walked up.
Galen nodded.
“Is Reaghan with the other Druids?”
Galen cracked his knuckles and faced Logan, Reaghan’s words of love echoing in Galen’s head. “Aye. I made her promise she would stay in the dungeon until I came for her.”
“You think Deirdre will try to take her?”
“I think Deirdre will take all of us if she’s able.”
Logan rubbed his jaw, his gaze moving across the sky, following the flight of the peregrine. “I’ve seen the bird every day, Galen. It has to be connected to Deirdre regardless of what Quinn said.”
“One battle at a time. We send the MacClures and wyrran back to Deirdre, and then we can capture the falcon.”
“Speaking of the MacClures, Broc just returned from his shadowing of our attackers. Look.”
Galen raised his gaze to see a dark mass plummet from the clouds. Broc’s large, dark wings were folded against his body for more speed.
Broc flew over the bailey and yelled, “They’ve come!”
Galen unleashed his god in the next heartbeat. He flexed his hand, his claws scraping the stones. After a shared glance with Logan, they jumped from the battlement to the ground outside the castle wall.
Galen wanted to be the first to encounter their attackers. Several of the Warriors were spread over the land, with the remaining Warriors on the battlement waiting to stop anyone or anything from getting inside the castle.
The MacLeods stood sentry at the castle. They were the last defense for the Druids, and Galen knew the brothers wouldn’t allow anyone to pass.
The only Druid who wasn’t hidden with the others was Isla. She stood with Hayden at the top of the south tower in case the shield needed to be lowered to allow the Druids inside.
Now, with the MacClures nearly upon them, Galen was surprised Hayden hadn’t carried Isla to the dungeons himself. He was very protective of his woman, as was evidenced in the way he stood in front of her, blocking her from potential attacks.
Broc continued his flight, alerting them to the MacClures’ movements and how quickly they approached. “They come on the right. Be prepared!”
“Let the battle begin,” Logan murmured.
Galen followed Logan’s gaze and spotted the MacClures as they guided their horses toward the edge of the shield. They rode on the right-hand side of the village just as Broc had said they would. Galen took a step toward the MacClures, only to halt at Broc’s shout.
“The Druids!”
Galen paused. On the other side of the village was a group of Druids running toward them. They were screaming, calling out for Sonya. And just as they had all feared, the wyrran took notice and started toward them.
“Shite,” Galen said, and looked back at the castle. “Lower the shield!”
Fallon gave a nod to Isla. A breath later, magic passed over Galen as Isla removed the shield.
“Get the Druids to the castle,” Galen told Logan as the MacClures gave a battle cry and charged.
Galen was ready. His god rose up inside him, bellowed his rage, and demanded blood, demanded casualties. Galen had no doubt all their gods would be appeased this day.
He dodged a sword from his first attacker and knocked the MacClure off his mount. Galen had no desire to kill the horses in an attempt to unseat their attackers, but he would if necessary.
Before the MacClure could roll to his knees, Galen had jumped on his back and jerked his head to the side, breaking the man’s neck.
More MacClures raced toward Galen. The ground shook with the thunder of hoofbeats. The horses shied away from the wyrran who ran among them, causing the MacClures to spend vast amounts of energy and time bringing their mounts under control.
Galen used it to his advantage, leaping from horse to horse and killing the men before they even knew what was happening.
For the first time Galen embraced his god. He let the thoughts and feelings that rushed through him each time he touched a MacClure or their horses feed his god. Galen’s only thought was to decimate the MacClures so they would leave. The wyrran could easily be taken care of once the mortals were gone.
And to his surprise, he began to stop experiencing the emotions of others. Soon, he was touching them and feeling nothing. But with just a thought, he could be in their minds.
Finally — finally! — after two hundred and fifty years he was learning to control his god. All he had needed to do was embrace his power.
Galen threw back his head and roared after killing another MacClure. When he looked up it was to find Hayden shooting fire from his hands not far from Galen.
It caused the horses to rear in fear, sending their riders tumbling to the ground where Ramsey waited to kill them.
*
Reaghan wrapped her arms around her middle and tried to act calm for Braden’s benefit. Even though they all tried to laugh and talk about mundane things, the boy could sense their apprehension.
“We need to help them,” Braden said.
Cara knelt in front of him and smiled. “Braden, the Warriors don’t need us. We would only be in the way.”
“Nay,” he said. “They could be injured. They need us.”
“Braden, please,” Fiona said, and pulled him into her lap.
Odara helped Fiona to soothe Braden and after a moment he relaxed in his mother’s arms.
Reaghan took a deep breath and tried not to think about Galen. He had brought her to the dungeons hours before dawn. The others had already been here, and as soon as she was inside, the door was shut and Larena stood guard.
No matter how hard she strained her ears, Reaghan could hear nothing. They sat in silence, the two candles giving off limited light as they waited and hoped for Braden to fall asleep.
Reaghan wasn’t sure how much time passed before Cara let out a small sigh and whispered, “Both Fiona and Braden are asleep.”
Marcail moved to the door and pressed her ear against it. “I can hear nothing yet.”
“You will,” Cara said.
The longer Reaghan waited, the more frayed her nerves became. And then, they heard the roar of the Warriors.
Reaghan’s heart tumbled to her feet and her skin grew clammy. They could hear the pounding of horse’s hooves, the shouts of the MacClures. And the shrieks of the wyrran.
Marcail sat with her hand on her stomach and her eyes closed. Cara had an arm around Marcail’s shoulders, offering what little comfort she could.
Sonya was on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest and her forehead resting on them. She hadn’t spoken a word since Reaghan had entered the dungeon.
“Sonya,” she said.
The red-haired Druid lifted her head, her amber eyes red from her tears.
“Your sister will be safe. I know Broc and the others will see that it’s so.”
A single tear fell from Sonya’s eye. “I pray you are right.”
