She knew her time with Fallon was running out. If she didn’t give herself to him, she would lose him forever. Fallon had offered her everything. What had she done? She had kept part of herself from him, but more than that, she hadn’t trusted him with the truth about the Scroll.
Larena put her head in her hands as she felt the tears threaten again. How she hated to cry. Ever since she had met Fallon the tears had been nearly unstoppable.
He deserved the truth. All of it. If he hated her for it, then so be it. As a Highlander and laird to a clan, he should understand the weight of a vow.
Her decision to tell him made, she lifted her head and wiped her eyes. She needed to find Fallon before she changed her mind. She could help Ramsey and Hayden with the scroll so they could fool Deirdre completely.
But as she turned to leave, she heard her name whispered.
Larena whirled around to find Malcolm looking at her through his one good eye. She smiled and reached for his hand. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he murmured, and licked his cracked lips.
She reached for the cup of water and raised his head to help him drink. Once he was finished she wiped the water from his chin and brushed a lock of blond hair from his eyes.
“How are you feeling?”
He grunted. “Like. Hell.”
“I know, but you’re going to get better. You’re at Fallon’s.”
Malcolm’s brow furrowed, and she saw the questions forming in his mind.
“Not yet, cousin,” she said. “You need to rest. There will be time enough later for answers.”
“All right.”
“Are you in pain?”
He nodded as his eyes drifted shut.
Larena squeezed his hand. “I will get you something. Rest easy.”
When she turned around Sonya was in the doorway. The Druid’s amber gaze was troubled, but she quickly schooled her features and smiled.
“He woke?” Sonya asked.
“Aye, and he’s in pain.”
Sonya strode to the bed. “I’ll mix some herbs in his water. It will ease his pain and allow him to rest.”
“Thank you.”
The Druid looked at her. “There’s no need to thank me. This is what I do, the gift I was given. I will continue to use my magic to speed his healing.”
Larena glanced at Malcolm once more. “Thank you anyway. If you ever need
“It is good that you’ve come here. This is where you belong,” Sonya said.
Larena let Sonya treat her cousin and left the cottage, strangely content at the Druid’s words. She looked at the castle against the blue of the sky. She imagined it must have been magnificent in its former glory with the towers reaching to the clouds and the air filled with the MacLeod war cry.
The only evidence now of the massacre was the gray stone that was marred from the fire and the one tower yet to be rebuilt. The castle didn’t house the MacLeod clan any longer, but if Fallon had his way, the land would be filled with people once more.
Druids and Warriors who dared to stand against an evil such as Deirdre would gather on this land and face the greatest battle of their lives.
“Larena!”
She turned to find Galen, Logan, and Camdyn holding up a large post.
“We need you,” Galen called.
Larena glanced at the castle. Her confession to Fallon would have to wait.
Broc steeled himself, as he always did, before he walked into the mountain. Ten steps inside and he could hear the screams from the dungeons below. Those screams would haunt his dreams for eternity.
Though he wanted to find his own chamber, Broc knew he had to see Deirdre first. There would be a punishment for him, he was sure. Deirdre didn’t like to be kept waiting.
Broc took the narrow stairs that wound up the mountain. When he reached the top, he turned left and walked down the corridor.
There were times he could have sworn the stones were alive, that they could read his thoughts and feel his hatred. He had been a part of Deirdre’s army for so long now that he should be used to it, but he knew he never would be. The mountain was an unholy place, a place where wickedness thrived and built with each passing day.
He nodded to the two Warriors guarding Deirdre’s door. They knocked and announced his presence. Broc heard her shout a response through the thick rock of her door.
As her double doors creaked open, Broc cleared his mind of everything but the MacLeods. It was a trick he had learned early on, and one that had saved his life countless times.
The first thing he did was look to the spot where Deirdre had been holding James prisoner in the rocks. The Warrior lifted eyes full of hate and anger to Broc.
“Where have you been?” Deirdre demanded as she walked into the chamber.
Broc glanced at the doorway she had just passed through. He glimpsed her bed and a man’s feet. He knew without a doubt it was Quinn. Was Quinn there because he wanted to be, or was Deirdre keeping him chained to her bed? Broc sighed inwardly. He wouldn’t get to talk to Quinn again now.
Deirdre’s white brows rose. “Well?”
“I stayed behind after the attack to see what Fallon and the others would do,” he lied.
The ends of Deirdre’s white hair twitched and rose from the floor. He had felt the sting of her hair before, and he had watched her strangle enough people with it to know that whenever she called for its use, it wasn’t good.
“Did you tell Fallon everything I told you to?”
Broc bowed his head. “Of course, mistress. Every word.” And then some, but she didn’t need to know that.
“And Larena? Did you see her?”
“I did. She is alive.”
Deirdre let her gaze run slowly over him. “You’ve been loyal to me a long time, Broc. I’ve never questioned your allegiance, but don’t be late again or there will be punishment.”
Through the bile that rose in his throat he continued to play her fool. “My apologies, mistress. I thought you would want to learn that they are rebuilding the village.”
Deirdre’s colorless eyes narrowed. “Is that so? Interesting, Broc. Very interesting.” She started back toward her chamber, dismissing him, when she paused. “A group of Druids has been brought in by Dunmore. Help the others with the interrogation.”
Broc’s heart pounded in his chest and sweat beaded his brow. More Druids? How was she finding them? And how much longer before Anice and her Druids were discovered? “As you wish.”
She paused, and with nary a word, the stones that held James released him. The pale green Warrior dropped to the ground and rubbed his arms and legs where he had been held. He gave a bow to Deirdre, and then stomped out of her chamber.
When Deirdre disappeared into her chamber, Broc turned and woodenly walked out of the room. The last thing he wanted to do was see the Druids tortured and killed, but he had no choice.
Broc turned the corner from the doorway and found Isla in his path. The
He didn’t understand why Deirdre hadn’t killed Isla like the other Druids. Isla rarely spoke and no emotion ever flickered over her face. Her eyes were as dead as Broc’s heart.
“Isla,” Broc said as he started around her.
“Did you see them?”
He paused as her softly spoken words filled the hallway. “See who?”
