“I’m not. I helped Marcail to evade the other Warriors. She was to leave the mountain dressed as one of Deirdre’s servants and look for your brothers.”
“Stop it,” Quinn murmured as he rose to his feet and began to pace the chamber. “I doona know what you’re trying to do, but just stop. Marcail is safe. My brothers are safe.”
Broc glanced down at his dark blue skin and the long claws. He had lived as Deirdre’s for so long that Quinn wasn’t going to believe him without proof, and since Lucan and Fallon weren’t there, Broc had nothing to show Quinn.
“Is it a fight you want?” Quinn asked. “Do you want to see if you can best me?”
Broc shook his head. “I’m not looking to battle you, Quinn. You must believe me.”
“Aye, Quinn, you must believe Broc.”
The female voice came from beside Broc but there was no body. Yet he recognized the voice. “Larena?”
“Aye,” she answered. “I’m here, Broc. Find me something to cover myself, please.”
Broc hurried to the bed and jerked a blanket off.
“What the hell is going on?” Quinn commanded.
There was a soft tug and the blanket was taken from Broc’s hand. In a blink Larena materialized beside him, the cover wrapped around her to hide her nudity.
“I was beginning to think you werena coming,” Broc said.
Larena grimaced. “I saw them take Marcail.”
“I know. I’ve been trying to convince Quinn.”
Quinn punched the stone wall as his skin turned black with his anger. “Tell. Me. What. Is. Going. On.”
Larena took a step toward Quinn. “It’s finally good to meet you, Quinn. I’m Larena, Fallon’s wife.”
Quinn stood in quiet shock as he stared at the blonde-haired woman before him. She had just appeared out of nowhere. She was pretty with her classical beauty, but she didn’t hold a candle to Marcail.
“Fallon’s wife?” he repeated, unsure he had heard her correctly.
She smiled. “Aye. I’m also a Warrior. Deirdre tried to take me a few weeks ago, but Fallon and the others helped to keep me out of her hands.”
Quinn rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He no longer knew what was real and what wasn’t. But Fallon married? That, he couldn’t — and wouldn’t — believe unless Fallon told Quinn himself.
“We haven’t much time,” Larena said. “Quinn, I doona know what Deirdre is going to do to Marcail, but we need to get to her quickly.”
“Deirdre canna kill Marcail,” Quinn said. “Though it’s pointless to speak of it. I saw Deirdre release her.”
Larena shook her head, her long blonde braid moving back and forth down her back. “You have to know Deirdre is deceiving you. Would she willingly give up a Druid so easily?”
“I doona know what’s real anymore,” he yelled. Quinn turned away from them, his stomach churning as he imagined Deirdre tricking him and doing God only knew what to Marcail.
If Broc and Larena were speaking the truth…Quinn couldn’t even complete the thought.
“You’ve been away from your brothers for a while,” Larena said in a soft voice. “They have thought of you every day. Since you were taken, they have done nothing but try to find a way to get you out of here.”
He believed that. He and his brothers might fight, but the love they shared was unbreakable. Quinn knew he’d walk through Hell itself to free his brothers.
“Look at me,” Larena bade him.
Quinn turned and watched as she moved aside the blanket from her neck to show a gold torc with boars’ heads, just like Fallon’s.
“Fallon gifted this to me when I agreed to become his wife,” Larena said. “We’ve been married but days, Quinn. Neither Lucan nor Fallon will rest until you are once more at MacLeod Castle with them.”
Quinn couldn’t take his eyes off the torc. It was proof that Larena was indeed Fallon’s wife. Quinn remembered the day his mother had given Fallon the torc. She had told him it would be his gift to the woman who held his heart. They would be bound forever.
Just as Lucan and Cara were bound when Lucan gave her a dagger with the head of his wolf on it.
Quinn looked to Broc. “And you?”
“I’ve been spying on Deirdre for years. It was a pact Ramsey and I made. I will explain it all once we are free of this mountain.”
“Holy Hell. Deirdre really does have Marcail, doesna she?” Quinn asked in disbelief.
Broc and Larena nodded.
Quinn looked down at his hand and watched his black claws lengthen from his fingers. Fury unlike he had ever known roared through him. It clawed at his insides, demanding release and revenge for the taking of his woman. It demanded blood.
“I’m going to kill the bitch.”
“Wait,” Larena said. “Fallon wants me to get you out of here first.”
“I’m not leaving without Marcail.”
Broc walked to the door. “I know where Deirdre took Marcail. I’ll take Quinn. There is a door just down the hall that opens out of the mountain. Have the others come through there.”
“Then what?” Larena asked. “We are outnumbered with the wyrran and Warriors.”
Quinn smiled as he looked at Broc. “Not with all the people and Warriors in the dungeons.”
“I’ll see them released then,” Broc said. “Now come. We must go.”
Quinn’s heart pounded in his chest. For the first time in a long time it felt good to release his god. He would enjoy killing Deirdre, and he would make it slow and excruciating.
Thirty-one
Fallon paced back and forth outside the mountain. Ever since Larena had left, he had been anxious and terrified that something would happen to his wife and he wouldn’t be there to help her.
“She’ll be all right,” Hayden said.
Fallon hoped his friend was correct, because if anything happened to Larena he didn’t know what he would do. She was the very life inside him, the only thing that kept him breathing, and the one thing that helped him remember to be the man he always wanted to be.
She had been gone too long, though. Deirdre’s mountain was huge, but there were so many places Larena could get caught. It should have been him that went inside. A man didn’t put his wife in danger this way. Fallon rubbed the back of his neck, which had begun to ache.
There was a rustle of something behind him. Then he heard the sweetest thing in the world, his wife’s voice.
“I need my clothes,” she whispered.
“Everyone turn their backs,” Fallon told the men.
Once they complied, he watched Larena materialize in front of him and hurriedly put on her clothes.
“All right,” she said when she was covered.
Fallon squatted next to her as she pulled on her boots. “Did you find Quinn?”
“I did. It took some time to convince him who I was. It was the torc that did it.”
Fallon glanced at Lucan. “Where is Quinn now?”
Larena held out her hand and Fallon pulled her to her feet. “He went after his woman.”
“His woman?” Lucan repeated. “The Druid Broc spoke of?”
“Aye,” Larena said. “Broc tried to help Marcail escape, but Deirdre caught her. Quinn and Broc have gone to try and stop Deirdre.”
Hayden stepped forward. “Then what are we waiting for?”
Fallon fisted his hands and cursed. “I knew I should have gone into the mountain. Then I’d know where to jump us.”
