A laugh bubbled within her as he started running. She followed, their hands still linked. The sound of the water grew the closer they got to it until it was a deafening roar.
They came to a halt when they reached a cliff that dropped off into the most beautiful emerald-green water Aisley had ever seen.
The waterfall was below their feet coming from a stream to her right. The water tumbled over rocks before plummeting into emerald depths. Surrounding the water were sheer walls of rock and more boulders protruded in the water below.
“In all the times I’ve been here, I’ve never found it,” Phelan said.
Aisley glanced from the water to him. “Found what?”
“This is the Fairy Pool.”
“I’ve heard of this. It’s a tourist destination.”
Phelan squatted down and looked over the side to the water. “Nay, beauty. No’ this one. This is the real Fairy Pool.”
“Meaning?” she prodded.
His gaze lifted to hers. “You’ve magic. Do you think you’re the only one who has it?”
“Well…” Aisley trailed off because she didn’t want to admit she had thought that. Then she lifted her chin. “I knew there were Warriors.”
“Ah, but our gods were pulled from Hell by magic. We doona have magic.”
“You’re magical enough for the selmyr to want to eat you.”
Phelan chuckled. “True enough, beauty.”
“So, what other magical beings are walking about?”
He pointed to the water. “Why do you think they call this the Fairy Pool?”
“Surely not for fairies. They don’t exist.”
He didn’t argue with her, just smiled patiently.
“Tell me,” she urged.
“Scotland has many myths and legends about magic and magical beings. Druids were real. What makes you think none of the others are?”
Aisley looked at the water. It looked so inviting. She turned on her heel and began looking for a way down to the water.
It didn’t take her long to discover a narrow trail that was nearly covered by the tall grass. Aisley was about to take her first step when Phelan’s arm wrapped around her waist.
“Hold on, beauty,” he said just before he jumped off the side.
Aisley’s gasp caught in her throat as the air whooshed around her. Phelan landed softly before he let her feet touch the flat stone he stood upon.
“You come in handy,” she said with a laugh.
His blue-gray eyes dropped to her lips. Heat filled Aisley as her breasts swelled and her nipples hardened. Her body ached for his. The hunger filling her was primal, unadulterated.
Raw.
Before they could kiss again, Phelan’s head snapped up. Aisley looked to where he was staring to find an older man with a gray beard hanging to his chest and penetrating black eyes.
“What do you want here, Warrior?” the man demanded.
Phelan moved so that she stood behind him. She leaned to see around his shoulder and get a better look at the old man. His shoulders were slightly bent, and he held a large walking stick in his right hand.
Gray hair was pulled back in a neat queue at the base of his neck. He wore a plain, dark green military-like jacket over a tan shirt. Black pants and boots completed his outfit.
Phelan let out a slow breath. “We’re looking for you, actually.”
“Why?”
“We’ve found information that the Druids of Skye could help contain the selmyr.”
At the mention of the creatures, Aisley saw the old man’s body give a slight jerk. So they knew what the selmyr were. Maybe Phelan had been right in wanting to come here.
“Who are you?” the man asked.
“Phelan Stewart. I bring a Druid descended from your line—Aisley. And your name?”
The old man’s gaze came to rest on Aisley. She refused to look away. Why should an old man cower her when Jason hadn’t been able to? Somehow she stood her ground.
“Corann,” the man answered. “You’ve found us, but whether we help or no’ remains to be seen, Warrior.”
Phelan squeezed her hand and started to follow Corann when he walked away. Aisley hesitated a moment wondering why Corann had looked at her so strangely.
“Don’t do it,” came a female voice behind her.
Aisley turned to see the same vivid blue eyes from earlier staring at her. Up close she could tell the Druid was only in her early twenties. “Don’t do what?”
“Tell Phelan your secret.”
“He needs to know,” Aisley whispered. She scrunched her face as she looked at the woman before her. “Who are you? And how did you know?”
“I’m Ravyn. I know because the wind told me.”
“Then you understand he has to be told. He has a right.”
Sadness came over Ravyn’s face. “I know, but you can’t do it here. If you do, Phelan will kill you as you’ve guessed. Then we’d have to kill him for harming you.”
“I don’t understand.” Aisley rubbed the back of her neck where a dull pain had begun. “You know I’m
“Perhaps. But you’ll not tell Phelan on Skye. Not if you want our help with the selmyr.”
It was blackmail plain and simple. Yet, Aisley accepted Ravyn’s threat. After all, Aisley wasn’t ready to tell Phelan anything and spoil what they had.
Aisley turned to look at Phelan and Corann. Phelan stood head and shoulders above those around him. He commanded attention with his good looks and the self-assured way he held himself.
He could have been a great lord or even a powerful ruler had Deirdre not taken him. But it didn’t matter what century Phelan was in. He was a man others took notice of and respected.
“You love him,” Ravyn stated. “But you must wait to share your secret. Phelan is needed.”
“I know he’s needed. He’s important in the fight against evil. To harm him just because he’d be doing the right thing in killing me is absurd.”
Aisley had heard enough. She started after Phelan only to feel Ravyn move up behind her. Her voice, when it reached Aisley, was barely above a whisper. The wind swept through her hair at the exact moment, sending a tingling along her skin.
“He’s a prince.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
MacLeod Castle
Camdyn MacKenna tapped his finger on the table absently. The evening meal was over, but no one left the great hall. He missed being in his own home, a home he and Saffron had built outside the shield protecting the castle.
He’d brought his wife and daughter to the castle to keep them safe, but he was beginning to wonder if there was such a place. Before, there had never been a question. Everyone gathered at the castle.
The combination of magic within the stones and the magic of the Druids, along with the Warriors’ powers
