On his way back to the castle, this plan sounded reasonable. In the endless freedom of the woods with the wind being his only audience, his plan was solid, his love undeniable and his decision honorable. Now, trapped inside the cold walls of the castle, his words sounded like those of a foolish lad who was ignorant of the duty to his family.
"And who shall you marry, pray say?" Laird Brodrick asked. He did not as much as move one brow. So cold and composed, that Aengus felt rage and anxiety storm inside him.
The one I love, the words rang in his mind, the one that means the world to me. The only one who healed me when all of you were waiting for the claws of death to take me away...He did not say those words aloud.
"Tara, the daughter of Breckenridge clan," he said calmly.
If he had hoped that his father did not know who she was, the dark frown that clouded his face crushed Aengus' hopes.
"A witch," Brodrick spat, shaking his head. "Never shall she step into my family." Then, he turned back staring into the fire.
"I knew he was bewitched. His deeds made no sense these last weeks," Doughall, his younger brother, let out an amused bark. "Father, we cannot allow such disgrace!"
Had it not been disgraceful to leave him alone to rot in the cold room while his two younger brothers took his place? How could love so pure and capable of healing be disgraceful?
Alastair, his youngest brother, remained silent. He only stared at Aengus with amusement.
"Go to yer chambers, Aengus," Brodrick commanded. "We shall talk in the morrow."
Angered, Aengus decided to retreat and come up with a better strategy in the morning. He will confront them tomorrow and show how important his love was.
Later that night, the serving girl brought him wine. The heavenly drink set his ragged thoughts at ease and Aengus let sleep take over his tired mind. He slept peacefully. Way too peacefully.
Three days later, when Aengus finally woke up from the trap of his long sleep, he found out that he had been betrayed by his brothers. Aengus could've run to the woods and tried to find Tara. He could've roamed the whole world for years until he found the woman he had loved. He never did any of it, though. The rage of the wounded beast calmed and he accepted his destiny. He was the heir to his father's title, the protector of his lands, and this was his duty.
Laird Aengus lived a long life in unhappy wedlock. He never knew what had happened to the heartbroken witch who had been exiled from her clan for her willingness to follow her heart. He never knew that his betrayal had brought a powerful curse upon the generations that were to come.
Every firstborn son of the MacLachlan clan had to suffer a severe injury and lose the one woman who was dear to their heart. Centuries after centuries, generations after generations the curse was passed through their blood and there would be no cure to the curse until the day when a brave descendant of his bloodline would love a witch with pure, unbreakable love and would refuse to lose her.
Chapter 4
"How on Earth shall I find a witch in the twenty-first century?" Connor yelled frustrated. "And I don't even believe in witches..." He got even more frustrated because he could not kick the door. That loud bang would've probably calmed his anger. Yup, one could not even do a simple heart-warming thing like kicking a door when stuck in a stupid wheelchair after a damned accident.
Connor MacLachlan had always been happy with his life as a musician. He had been in love with his girlfriend since they had been twelve. He never gave too much thought to anything that was out of his reach. Magic was among those things.
Everything had changed in a blink. The wheel of fortune had turned away from him. In a matter of just one week, Connor got into an accident while riding his bike, broke his leg and got kicked out of his band. As if that was not enough, Kelly decided she was too young to take care of a crippled boyfriend for the rest of her life and left him.
With his parents living abroad, his old grandpa was the only relative who had enough time and patience to deal with Connor. The old man seemed to have some magical defense against Connor's mood swings and constant nagging. If not for the unceasing pain in his knee, Connor would probably be grateful to his grandpa for all the kindness the man showed to him during the last months.
Today, it was probably the gloomy weather and the gray sky that made him particularly bad-tempered, or the realization that his recovery was not as fast and painless as he expected, or maybe it was his grandpa's sudden desire to entertain him with some family history. Connor was fed up with those stories. Undoubtedly, anyone who came from a family that had a thousand-year-old history and ancestors that were remembered for their great deeds and victories should be proud of his roots. Connor had enjoyed those stories as a kid. Not anymore.
This morning, when his grandpa mentioned that Connor's accident and all the misfortunes that followed it were caused by the infamous family curse, his nerves gave up. It was enough for him to suffer all of this. The thought that some weird magic was the cause of it, made it so much worse. He was not going to believe that some guy from the past who
