She laughed. “Weak, you mean.”
“That’s not what I meant at all. As men, we are raised to protect women and children, to give our lives if necessary. It is what a Highlander is.”
Marcail tore off a piece of bread and squished it between her fingers. “Things were different in my village. The men did look out for the women and children, but not as you say. My father gave his life for us, but I would not expect any other man to die for me.”
“Then you obviously haven’t encountered a true Highlander.”
Her smile warmed his heart.
“So it seems, Quinn MacLeod. You are the first Highlander I’ve met, and I must say, I’m duly impressed.”
Eleven
Quinn didn’t know what to think of the warm feeling in his chest at waking up with Marcail in his arms. The way she looked at him, so open and honest, and the way she spoke to him, as if she didn’t fear him, only made him want to be around her more.
He loved to see her many smiles, from her shy grins to the open-mouthed smiles that lit her up from the inside out.
They talked nonsense through their meal, and it had been too easy, too comfortable to suit Quinn. He was used to rarely speaking to anyone about anything. Hell, half the time he didn’t even eat with his brothers.
Why then couldn’t he stay away from Marcail? What was it about her that made him feel at ease, as if he could tell her anything?
Quinn squatted beside the water and jerked off his tunic. He tossed the dark red tunic aside, hating it because it had come from Deirdre. But it was either wear it or go naked since he would have to remove his breeches and boots as well.
Since the collection of water was also where they drank, Duncan had managed to secure a small bucket. Quinn used the bucket to scoop out some water. Then he splashed the water on his arms, chest, and face in an effort to keep clean before dumping the rest over his head.
He tossed his head side to side to remove the excess water before he ran his hands down his face. Quinn had taken the sea he loved for granted. He missed fishing and hunting as he never thought he would.
But more than that, he missed his home, his brothers, and the land that was in his soul. He wanted out of Deirdre’s mountain, and he would see that it was done if he had to claw his way through the rocks himself.
A change in the atmosphere of the Pit alerted Quinn that someone was coming, and it wasn’t Broc. Quinn released his god as he rose to his feet. He turned to find Arran hurrying toward him.
“Who is it?” Quinn asked.
Arran hesitated, but it was all the answer Quinn needed.
“Why won’t the bitch leave me alone,” Quinn growled.
“We don’t know if it is her. It could be Isla.”
Quinn shook his head and walked around Arran to the entrance. “I know the feel of that magic, Arran. Isla’s is strong, but this…this is Deirdre.”
The rest of the Warriors in the Pit must have realized it as well because they hurried to their caves and hid in the darkness. Quinn didn’t blame them. He would have liked to do the same. Not from fear but because he couldn’t stand to look at Deirdre.
Arran stood at Quinn’s right while Ian took Quinn’s left. He had warned the Warriors to stay away from him when Deirdre visited, but they had never listened before. He doubted they would now.
Quinn turned his head, his eyes seeking Marcail. She was walking toward him when Duncan stopped her. Quinn gave a small shake of his head. Thankfully, it was enough that Marcail went with Duncan.
The Warrior tucked her into a corner and stood in front of her. Quinn knew Duncan wanted to be closer but none of them could risk having Marcail near Deirdre.
Duncan crossed his big arms over his chest and slowly nodded to Quinn. He would protect Marcail with his life. Quinn returned the nod and faced the doorway Deirdre would enter.
They didn’t have long to wait.
Quinn spotted Deirdre through the square in the door. His skin prickled with the need to sink his claws into Deirdre’s white eyes. The evil that surrounded her could be felt through the stones, but when she was near, it was like the evil was choking the life from Quinn.
He curled his fingers, his claws growing even longer. Blood filled his mouth as his tongue scraped across his fangs. He’d never felt such hatred for another person before. Every time he saw Deirdre he pictured the massacre of his clan and the death of his son.
With just a wave of Deirdre’s hand the door swung open with a few creaks as the rocks scraped against each other. Quinn wasn’t surprised to see the royal blue Warrior he had come to despise almost as much as Deirdre.
William.
He had dared to attack the castle twice, and it had been he who had nearly made off with Cara. It had only been because Fallon finally released his god that Lucan had time to reach his woman.
Quinn was going to kill William as well. The Warrior’s death would bring him much delight, but not nearly the pleasure that Deirdre’s death would give Quinn.
Deirdre and William strolled into the Pit as if they were walking down the streets of Edinburgh. They were a perfect pair, Deirdre and William. Both had submerged themselves in evil and craved power like a body craved breath.
“Quinn,” Deirdre said as she stopped in front of him. “You are looking well. Or as well as can be expected living in the Pit.”
He didn’t bother answering her.
She glanced from Arran to Ian, then looked into the cave for Duncan. “I see that you’ve taken over.”
“Stop,” Quinn demanded. “You’ve known from the day I was dropped in here.”
She laughed, the sound like a banshee’s scream. “So I have, Quinn. Are you ready to come with me and take your place by my side? And in my bed? To give me the child I need?”
“I’d rather eat my own eyeballs.”
The smile dropped from her thin face. Her nostrils flared and anger poured off her in waves. “That can be arranged.”
“As long as I wouldn’t have to see you,” Quinn taunted. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself.
As suddenly as her anger came, it left. She took a deep breath and raised her chin. “Why do you fight me? We are destined to be together. I have the prophecy to prove it.”
“I doona believe in destiny. I make my own decisions, and my answer to you will always be
William growled from next to Deirdre. Quinn peeled back his lips and bared his fangs. He’d been itching for another fight with the bastard. Now was as good a time as any.
“William,” Deirdre barked.
Instantly the royal blue Warrior was silenced. He turned his gaze to Deirdre with reverence. It made Quinn want to gag.
“Tell me,” Deirdre said as a strand of her white hair lifted from the ground to caress Quinn’s chest. “What is it you care about most in this world?”
Quinn bit his tongue to keep from saying a snide remark aimed at her. He wanted to brush aside her hair, which she liked to use as a weapon.
“That would be your brothers. I suppose that Cara is now added to that as well, since she is Lucan’s.”
