It propelled him to the side, giving Gillian enough time to get free and run to her. Aisley smiled as her daughter’s little legs ran as fast as they could toward her.

“Nay!” Jason bellowed.

Aisley once more found herself on her back from Jason’s magic. She turned her head to look for Gillian, but she was gone. Only the pink ribbon that fluttered slowly to the ground remained.

All around her magic, fire, water, and lightning flew. The ground shook and cracked at Jason’s feet. Somehow his magic was being thrown back at him. Mixed in was the magic of the Druids who hurled their own volleys at him.

But Aisley felt none of it. The grief that tore through her was just as raw, just as visceral as it had been the day Gillian died in her arms.

She’d held it all in then. She wouldn’t now.

The scream welled in her chest until she had no choice but to let it out.

*   *   *

Phelan used his power to constantly shift Wallace’s perception of the trees so he wouldn’t know where the attacks were coming from.

The scream that tore from Aisley reached all the way to Phelan’s soul. He felt her grief and anger. He heard the anguish and heartrending sorrow.

Her hand was still outstretched where the toddler had been running to her. Jason had killed the lass.

Phelan shut his mind and heart off to Aisley’s pain and concentrated on helping his friends. Wallace was so confident no one would attack at his back that when the opportunity came, Phelan jumped from his spot to land in the clearing.

Off to his right was Aisley. She was struggling to get to her feet again. To his left was Wallace, a smile of victory on his face.

“No’ for long,” Phelan murmured.

Without turning around, Wallace broadsided him with a burst of magic that pinned him against a tree. Phelan bellowed and struggled against the hold, but he couldn’t shake loose.

Then a knife near Wallace’s feet rose in the air. Its blood-coated blade was pointed right at his heart. Phelan barely had time to prepare himself before the blade flew at him.

Aisley’s magic swarmed around him. The blade swerved. Instead of hitting his heart, it sank into his arm.

“No.”

The word was spoken calmly, quietly by Aisley in the chaos of battle. She was on her feet but swaying. Blood dripped from both hands, and it looked as if her black shirt was wet on the back.

Jason glanced over his shoulder at her. “I’ll get to you in a moment, you treacherous bitch.”

“No.”

Phelan sucked in a breath as Aisley’s magic, beautiful and erotic, brushed against him again. He couldn’t believe she was going to attack Jason.

With one hand held out toward his attackers, Wallace used some kind of defense to ricochet anything directed at him as he faced Aisley. Phelan understood then that Wallace had been playing with them. He could take them out at any time.

“Were the past couple of days no’ enough for you?” Wallace demanded of Aisley. “Shall I do more?”

“You’ve done all you can.” Aisley visibly swallowed and blinked as if to clear her vision. “You took her away.”

Jason smirked. “As if I’d have let your darling daughter remain. I used her to have you fight for me.”

A lone tear stole down Aisley’s face. Phelan could see the tracks of earlier tears in the smudges of dirt, but that one tear touched him as nothing else could.

“I had a visitor yesterday. Satan,” Aisley said.

Wallace laughed. “I doona believe you.”

Phelan felt the drough blood rushing through his body, but it wasn’t as debilitating as before. Britt’s serum seemed to be working.

“He wants you dead, Jason. It seems you came back from the dead, along with more magic, without any aid from him. He’s not happy. He wanted me to take your place. He offered to give me the magic to kill you.”

Phelan was proud of the way Aisley stood so bravely and composed in front of Wallace. But a niggle of worry wouldn’t let go while he listened to her speak of Satan as if she always traded conversations with him.

Had Wallace pushed Aisley past the breaking point by killing her daughter?

“You lie,” Wallace said, though his voice lacked the conviction of his words.

Aisley shook her head. “I’m not. Satan said all I had to do was pray to him.”

“I didna come back from that awful void for this! It was only because of my need for retribution against you that I’m here at all. You were family, Aisley. I was never supposed to doubt you.”

She shrugged, the lines bracketing her mouth telling Phelan how much that small movement pained her. “In the words of Justin Timberlake, cry me a river.”

*   *   *

Joy spread through Aisley as she watched Jason’s cool facade crumble. His angry bellow only made her smile. She welcomed the magic he directed at her. It would end her life and her suffering.

The smile died when Jason didn’t direct the blast at her, but instead lobed it at Phelan.

Aisley watched as Phelan’s face contorted in pain. He was already pinned to the tree by Jason’s magic.

“I’ve already taken away your daughter,” Jason said with a malicious grin. “Shall I kill Phelan as well?”

She saw him lift his hand, saw the magic swirling in an orb that grew by the second. Aisley didn’t think, just reacted. The pain of her injuries was forgotten as she raced toward Phelan.

Jason reared back his hand and let loose the magic. Aisley dove in front of Phelan and took the impact of the blast. Her breath was knocked from her as she slammed into the ground.

“Selmyr!” someone shouted.

She could feel the life draining from her. Aisley wanted to look at Phelan, but she couldn’t turn her head. She suspected her back was broken along with all the bones barely mended.

Jason forgot about the MacLeods and turned all his magic onto the approaching gray mist that moved so quickly across the sky that Aisley could barely keep up with it.

Aiden had been right. All the magic they used had done nothing but call out to the selmyr.

“Murray,” she whispered.

Corann had told them only the Druids of the bloodline would know the spell. She wasn’t sure she could because she was drough, but she was their only chance.

It wasn’t her life she was trying to save, but Phelan’s and the people he considered family. If she wasn’t from the bloodline nothing would be lost. If she was, she could end the selmyr.

Aisley concentrated on her magic. It took her three tries because of the agony of her body before she thought she imagined the sound of drums. She needed them now, needed someone to help her.

The mist filled the clearing before it faded away, leaving the frightening, lanky, white-skinned monsters she knew she would never forget.

Jason didn’t use a bubble of magic like last time. He ran away like the coward he was.

Aisley would’ve laughed had she been able to. Thankfully, Warriors poured out of the forest and began attacking the selmyr, ripping their spines from their bodies.

But they weren’t coming away unscathed. The selmyr were quick and there were too many of them. For every one a Warrior killed, ten more were biting him.

She had to somehow find the spell in her subconscious. Unless Corann lied and there was nothing that could stop the selmyr.

But that couldn’t be. He had given them a surname. Phelan found where it had changed, and then Aiden discovered her great-great grandmother’s maiden name. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

Aisley saw a flash of gold and caught sight of Phelan as he delved into the fray. There was so much she wanted to say to him. He wouldn’t listen, and she didn’t expect him to. Not after keeping who she was a secret.

She took a few seconds and watched him move with speed and efficiency, his beautiful gold skin shining in

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