MacRieve

THIRTY

Scottish Highlands

With every mile of forest and dirt track closer to Conall, the isolation weighed on Will. He drummed his fingers on the wheel of his new truck.

With each mile closer, his future became clearer. There would be no other for Chloe. It was down to him. And he was alternately disgusted and aroused by the idea of claiming her. Never had he felt such conflict within him.

She was oblivious to his turmoil, currently fast asleep in the passenger seat. Unless seriously weakened, most immortals needed only a few hours a day. The food she’d been trying to keep down might temporarily douse her arousal, but it did nothing to sustain her energy or heal her injuries.

He tried to concentrate on the road, on the scenery. Despite visiting Kinevane, he hadn’t been this close to Conall in centuries. He’d had no reason to return, making his home in Nova Scotia. He’d nearly forgotten the beauty of this region. Cloud shadows roamed over bronze mountains and mirror-smooth lochs like giant phantoms. Breathtaking.

He frowned at Chloe. She was missing everything. But then, did he care?

Mayhap? Should he wake her up? He decided against it. Their daylong journey had only fatigued her more. . . .

After giving Chloe a simple silver talisman bracelet, Munro had driven them to the Loreport, where a jet awaited. They’d hired a demon pilot who already had a mate, just in case Chloe began strewing at forty thousand feet.

Munro had taken each of them aside in turn for a few private words. “Have a care with my deirfiúr,” he’d told Will. “And I suggest you inform her what else her talisman does.”

Chloe had been standing at a little distance, clearly weighing her chances of escaping. She’d fiddled with her new bracelet, having no idea it had a second critical function.

Munro’s parting words to Will: “Even now, your mate suffers because you deny her. You were ill-used in the past, but if you take it out on her, then you become the slaoightear.” The villain.

Whatever Munro had told Chloe had left her equally shaken.

On the plane, she’d scuffed to the back cabin and fallen atop the bed, sleeping for most of the trip. He’d crept into the cabin, stretching his body out beside hers. Again he’d thought, I’m looking down at my mate. So lovely. Deceptively delicate. —Yours.—

Part of him still hated her for becoming a succubus, for pulling him from the brink only to shove him right back. But now it was too late. He knew it as well as he knew his reflection.

My soul’s been branded. Which was yet another way of saying, I have no choice.

—Claim her. Protect. Provide.—

He’d been tempted to provide right there on the plane. When he’d scented her renewed arousal and spied her stiffened nipples, he’d trailed his hand down her body to cup her between her legs, fondling her over her jeans. She’d woken with a gasp.

Her thighs had spread so obediently, and she’d rocked her sex into his palm as a good mate would. Acquiescing already?

Then she’d seemed to rouse fully. Her knees had slammed shut. “Get away from me, asshole.”

With a blistering curse, he’d obliged, pacing the plane for hours. Restless, miserable.

Even if he wanted to claim her—even if he could—she wouldn’t receive him. As she’d put it, she was repulsed to see his beast.

Sequestered at Conall, she wouldn’t have a lot of choices. She’d start strewing, and his beast would be helpless not to take her, whether she wanted it or not. If he had to hate-fuck his mate to keep her fed, then so be it.

They’d landed on a private strip in the Highlands, with a three-hour drive to Conall still ahead of them. When Will had picked up his new SUV, she’d frowned. “I don’t know about you driving. What if your beast comes out? I don’t think he’s got a driver’s permit.” In a weird voice, she said, “ ‘He don’t even have his license, Lisa.’ ”

“Who’s Lisa?”

She’d blinked at him. “Weird Science? Never mind, crypt keeper. I’ll shoot you a YouTube sometime, through this thing we youngsters like to call ‘electronic mail.’ ”

Now they crossed a bridge over the river that marked the eastern edge of Conall property. I’m on my family’s land. At the thought, his uneasiness increased.

He was returning to the place of his origins with his mate in tow. A mate who was sound asleep from exhaustion, favoring one leg, sporting a bruised face, and suffering the effects of malnutrition. She’d brought one of Rónan’s old gym bags, and all the belongings she had in the world hadn’t filled it.

His brother had given her the one piece of jewelry she owned.

The back of Will’s neck heated. He shouldn’t give a damn. He reminded himself that she was lucky to be with him, fortunate that he’d been prepared to make sacrifices for her.

He was about to bring one of her kind within those hallowed walls of Conall, defiling his home. He was about to feed her, healing her.

But those were his limits. His gaze fell on her bracelet. As per his orders, that talisman would keep her hidden—and keep her from conceiving. Just the idea of Ubus spawn was ballock-shriveling for him. If he and Chloe had incubi sons and succubae daughters, he would have to withdraw his offspring from the clan, could never let his line prey on others.

Again he drummed impatiently at the wheel, every mile cranking up the tension within him. And the more anxious he became, the more his Instinct told him to take comfort in his mate.

Just when his hand was reaching for her of its own volition, she woke, blinking at her surroundings. Now that he’d slowed their speed on a dirt road, she rolled down her window, laying her head on the door.

The scents of the Highlands swept him up, easing some of his tension. He gazed over at her. The late-afternoon sun flickered through trees, reflecting off the silver cuff on her wrist and bathing the smooth skin of her unmarred cheek. Over the course of their journey, her hair had grown out to nearly shoulder-length, shiny waves streaming in the wind.

She’s so bluidy bonny.

As he took in her heavy-lidded eyes and drowsy smile, the urge to stroke her face was nigh undeniable.

He needed to tell her that he found her beautiful, that he would give her anything she desired. Gods, he felt as if he’d die if he didn’t kiss her—

Comprehension.

As the keep came into view, it was not a moment too soon.

Because Chloe was beginning her first strew.