“Nay. The smell of rotting and burning flesh was so great I kept gagging. That is a smell I hope you never have to suffer.”
“If Deirdre has her way, everyone will know that odor.”
“Do you know what I remember most about that day?” he asked. “The silence. MacLeod Castle had always been full of people. Amid the conversations were men training, children laughing, the blacksmith at work, and the animals. So many sounds.”
Marcail kissed his shoulder. “I cannot imagine.”
“The first sound I heard was that of a crow. The next thing I knew they were everywhere.”
“The stories never say what you did with everyone. Did you bury them?”
He wrapped a lock of her sable hair around his finger. “We wanted to, but there were just too many. We had to burn them.”
“You said that you returned to the castle.”
“For two hundred and fifty years we’ve lived in the castle of our birth. We could not repair it as we wanted because we didn’t wish anyone to know we were there. People feared what had happened to our clan, so they stayed away from the castle.”
Marcail rose up on her elbow to look into his face. She smoothed a lock of his light brown hair from his brow. “You’ve had a very hard life.”
“Nay,” he said with a shake of his head. “It’s been Hell, but others have had it worse. I realized that after I’ve been in here. I wish you could have seen the castle before it was ruined. It was majestic.”
“Will you show it to me?”
That brought a grin to his face. “Oh, aye. I will surely do that. Lucan has a gift for shaping wood to whatever he wants. He made us a new table and chairs and even repaired our beds.”
“And Fallon? What is his talent?”
“Leading,” Quinn answered without hesitation. “He was born to be the laird, and a better man God couldn’t have chosen. He will lead Hayden, Ramsey, Galen, and Logan well.”
“Who are these other Warriors?”
Quinn put a hand behind his head, his brow furrowed. “Galen found Cara first. Cara had run away from Lucan because everyone around her was killed by Deirdre, and she didn’t want Lucan to die.”
“I gather Lucan went after her?”
“He did. In the process, Galen found Cara in the woods. Galen recognized what the Demon’s Kiss was around Cara’s neck.”
Marcail jerked. “Cara is a
“Nay. Her mother was at least, but they were killed when she was very young. She escaped and was raised by nuns. Cara is a good person. The only way she would become
“You like her,” Marcail said.
Quinn nodded. “I do. She’s good for Lucan, good for all of us actually. It was Cara’s idea for Galen to come to the castle.”
“You didn’t fear he was a spy for Deirdre?”
“At first, of course. There are some people who are honest and their word is their bond. Galen is such a man. It was easy to trust him. And when he left signs in the forest for others to find him, we welcomed them as well.”
Marcail settled back on his shoulder. Despite where they were, she was content to be held by Quinn and hear him talk. “Tell me about them.”
“There is Hayden, who is taller than most men with arms as big around as a tree trunk. I’m not sure what happened to him in his past, but he has a hatred for anything
“But Cara isn’t
“I know, but to Hayden she has
“I see,” she murmured. “And the others?”
“Ramsey is the quiet one, the listener. You almost forget he’s even there until he makes a comment or suggestion. He has an uncanny ability to sum up everything in one or two words, but he can also work through dilemmas.”
Marcail smiled. “A level head, he has.”
“And it comes in handy to be sure.”
“The other Warrior?”
“Logan. He’s the youngest of us and always smiling. He eases tensions with jests and quips that will leave everyone laughing.”
Marcail ran her hand down Quinn’s taut stomach and rippling muscles. “Do you think more will come to your castle?”
“I hope they do. It will take more than seven of us to defeat Deirdre.”
“But you have Duncan, Ian, and Arran,” she said. Her hand stopped at his hip. She wanted to wrap her hand around his now flaccid rod, but she wasn’t quite brave enough.
“Ten is better than seven.”
Then she remembered her desire to take chances she wouldn’t normally take since she could die on the morrow. She skimmed her nails down the side of Quinn’s hip to his thigh before she moved her hand to his cock.
He sucked in a breath when she wrapped her hands around him. She watched in amazement as his rod grew hard before her very eyes.
“Marcail,” he murmured.
She smiled and kissed his chest. “You feel wonderful inside me, but I wanted to know what you felt like in my hand.”
His hand at her back flexed and pulled her tighter against him. Marcail slowly moved her hand up and down his length, marveling at how hot he was, and hard. It was as if steel had been forged beneath his skin, he was so rigid. Yet his skin was as soft as velvet.
A bead of liquid formed at his tip. She ran her thumb over the head of his cock and smoothed the liquid over him. Her stomach fluttered when she heard Quinn’s low moan.
Up and down her hand moved, learning the feel of him. She loved watching the way his hips rose in response to her touch.
“Nay more,” Quinn said as he shifted to his side and kissed her. He turned her over until her back was against his chest.
“I liked touching you.”
He pressed his lips against her neck and moaned. The vibration against her skin was heavenly.
“I know,” he said thickly. “But I want to touch you as well.”
Marcail couldn’t stroke him the way he had her positioned, but before she could complain, his hand shifted to her sex and parted her folds. He then sank a finger deep inside her.
“Hm. I think I like this position. I have you just where I want you.”
She bit her lip as his cock ground into her from behind. His other hand had found her breasts and now rolled a nipple between his fingers.
“Quinn,” she murmured. The desire pulsing through her was so great she couldn’t get another word out.
As if he knew just what she needed, he lifted her leg and guided his rod to her entrance. With one shift of his hips, he was inside her, the feel of him from behind new and exciting.
Marcail moaned as pleasure rippled through her. Taking Quinn as she did, he went deeper, touched more of her. And it was wonderful.
He took his time, moving slowly in and out of her, heightening her pleasure with each thrust, each shift of his hips. When he began to move faster, harder, Marcail was powerless to do anything about the climax that moved quickly toward her.
The first waves of her orgasm engulfed her before she knew it. Quinn jerked behind her, her name on his lips as his hot seed poured into her. Knowing they peaked together prolonged her pleasure.
