Untamed Highlander

TWENTY-SEVEN

Deirdre gasped as the last of her energy vanished. She’d had Isla! If only she’d been able to talk to her. Deirdre didn’t know where Isla was yet, but it would only be a matter of time before she found her.

The use of her magic to try and contact Isla had been great, and Deirdre would pay for it for several days to come. She’d been trying for hours, and then finally she’d located Isla.

Only to lose her a moment later.

“If I had my full magic, Isla would be mine again,” Deirdre said to herself.

Deirdre knew she should have waited until Dunmore returned with a Druid, but she’d had to know if Isla was dead. Now that she knew her greatest weapon was still alive, once Deirdre’s magic had been restored she could rain down her wrath on the MacLeods and all who were loyal to them.

Before she could begin to plan on exactly how she would rip each MacLeod apart, five wyrran walked into her chamber. Deirdre motioned to them with unseen hands, but somehow the creatures saw her.

They halted before her, their yellow eyes lifted to where her face would be if she had a body. She smiled down at them. She still recalled the first wyrran she created. It had been the most lovely, frightening thing she had ever seen. They still were.

And they were hers. No one else could rule them. Only her.

“What did you find?” she asked them inside their minds.

They shook their hairless heads, their thin lips peeled back over the mouthful of large teeth.

“You didn’t see Isla?”

Again, a shake of their heads.

Deirdre had known Isla wouldn’t be with the MacLeods. Where she was, though, was another concern, but one Deirdre would hopefully discover soon.

It didn’t matter how far Isla had traveled. Deirdre would summon her back to her side, and Isla would have no choice but to do as commanded. There was nothing Isla could do to break the connection Deirdre shared with her.

Oh, Deirdre knew Isla had tried several times, but nothing could stop Deirdre’s magic. It was too strong and backed by diabhul himself.

Deirdre waved the wyrran away. She had planning to do. By the time Dunmore arrived with her Druid sacrifice, Deirdre would have everything set in place for her revenge.

She’d been a fool to think she could convince the MacLeods to align with her. With their deaths she would get some satisfaction. She would also have their women, women they had kept from Deirdre’s use.

No more would she allow anyone to go against her in such a fashion. From now on, death awaited anyone who did not ally with her or who betrayed her.

Deirdre smiled. Nothing could stop her now.

Hayden waded into the sea and dove into an oncoming wave. As soon as the water engulfed him, he felt the solace of it. It soothed, it caressed, it cradled.

He swam far from shore, fighting against the currents that had swept weaker men to their deaths. He knew the instant he swam through Isla’s shield. Her magic sang around him for a moment, blinding him with desire that left his body renewed and his cock aching, and then was gone.

Hayden came up for air once he passed through the shield. The wondrous feel of Isla’s magic had faded once he was through the shield. He found he missed it, missed the way it hummed around him and tantalized his body. Just as before when he turned and looked, there was no castle atop the cliffs.

He gulped in a lungful of air and dove straight down in an effort to forget Isla and how she had complicated his life. He dove lower than he’d ever gone before. The water crackled in his ears and the pressure pushed against him, but still he continued.

When he could go no farther, he swam out to the side, lazily surveying the sights. He let his eyes take in the murky depths of the sea and the life that lived below the surface. Fish of all sizes and colors. Seaweed that swayed with the currents. Dolphins playing in the distance, and even some seals.

With his god he was able to hold his breath much longer than a mortal man. There were times Hayden had wished he could breathe under water. He chuckled, bubbles exploding past his lips to rise to the surface.

He remembered as a young lad his mother telling him stories about the mermaids who lived in the sea. Even then Hayden had wished he could live under the surface.

Mermaids or not, it was a completely different world than the one on land.

Hayden knew he should be helping the others rebuilding the cottages, but he couldn’t chance running into Isla just yet. He needed to get himself under control or he just might start another fight with Ian.

As much as he hated to admit it, it was the cold hard pit of jealousy that iced his veins when he thought of Ian with Isla. It was ridiculous, this resentment, but as his mother used to say: “You cannot help the way you feel, Hayden.”

He wished he could change his feelings on the matter, and with some solitude and control, Hayden could.

When he could hold his breath no longer, he surged to the surface. He shook his head to get the hair from his eyes. Already he felt better. Water had always done that for him.

So did being in Isla’s arms.

Hayden cursed and slapped his hand atop the water. Just when he thought he had some semblance of control, he’d think of Isla.

He needed a longer swim, he surmised. But no matter how deep he dove, no matter how far he swam, the image of Isla’s ice-blue eyes and her long, straight black hair would not leave him. Just as the feel of her body, the slick passage of her sex as he thrust inside her, wouldn’t let him forget.

Hayden finally gave up. No amount of denial on his part would erase his feelings for Isla. And they were feelings, strong feelings.

Now that he had hurt her horribly he realized just how deep his feelings went. The things he had done, the things he had said no small apology could remove.

What was worse was that Hayden feared she might never forgive him.

With a deep sigh he started back to shore. When he came to Isla’s shield he paused in the middle of it. His skin tingled with the magic, and his senses, already enhanced, seemed to surge to new heights.

It baffled him how he could be affected by her magic so. Neither Sonya’s, nor Cara’s, nor Marcail’s did anything to him. He felt their magic surely as any Warrior did, but not in the way he did with Isla’s.

Hayden entered the shield and caught sight of the great MacLeod Castle. It was imposing in its grandeur, striking in its design.

The pale stone that made up the castle, four towers, the sawtooth merlons and crenels, and the massive gatehouse had seen much, yet still the stones stood intact, even if some were crumbling, waiting to give shelter to those who sought it.

Hayden stepped onto shore and tilted his head all the way back to see the castle. His home now. His family. Why then did he feel like the outsider?

Isla paused with her hands deep in the earth of Cara’s garden. She sank her fingers into the ground to till it up before she planted the new seed.

She didn’t know how she would feel having Ian with her at all times, but so far it was working out all right. He gave her space, but she knew he was always near, always watching. Just as with now he stood off to the side.

Isla wanted to ask him how he fared since Deirdre’s torture of him. It was obvious his twin, Duncan, was having a difficult time of it. Of course, it might be worse for Duncan since he had been helpless to do anything for Ian.

She should have helped Ian. She should have done so many other things, but she’d been a coward. Marcail called her strong, but Isla knew the truth. It was fear that kept her from going against Deirdre, even when she knew Grania and Lavena were lost to her forever. Isla still hadn’t had the courage to break way.

If anyone could have given her freedom it would have been Phelan. He hated her enough that had she asked, she knew he would have taken her head. It would have ended everything.

But she wouldn’t have tasted passion. She wouldn’t have had Hayden.

Isla snorted. As if she’d ever had Hayden. Hayden was no one’s. He was a loner, a man who wanted and needed no one. How had she come to find herself wanting him so desperately?

She moved to the next spot and sunk her hands into the dirt. Her mother’s magic had been greatest when she was next to the earth as Isla was now.

Isla had always found it amazing that each Druid found that special connection in different places with different things.

She had offered to help Cara to stay out of the village and therefore away from Hayden. She wasn’t ready to see him yet. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to see him again. He stirred feelings too deep, made her long for things she couldn’t have.

Every time Isla was near him she could think of nothing but him. For her own sanity, she decided against her present course of action.

If Ian, Cara, or anyone else suspected why she was in the garden, no one said a word. Which Isla was eternally grateful.

“You’re a natural,” Cara said with glee as she inspected Isla’s work.

Isla shrugged and rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. “My mother’s magic was like yours. She found her greatest pleasure in the earth. She thought mine might be like hers, so she often had me with her.”

“I wish my mother had stayed alive so I could have learned the Druid ways as you did.”

Isla sat back on her heels and turned her face up to the sun. “Spells are learned, Cara, but who you are, the magic that makes you a Druid, has always been inside you, guiding you. You just needed to learn to listen to it.”

“Ah, but listening to it when for nearly a score of years I didn’t isn’t as easy as you might think.”

Isla smiled and looked at Cara. “Nay, I cannot imagine it is. You seem to be coming along nicely.”

“I have help,” Cara said with a wink. “I’m also a quick learner.”

“That certainly comes in handy.” Isla rose and dusted off her hands after planting the last seed.

Cara’s head cocked to the side, her dark brown eyes gazing thoughtfully at Isla. “Where is the source of your magic? The place where you feel its power the most?”

In all her five hundred or so years Isla had never found that source. Until she had stepped into the sea at MacLeod Castle. She recalled that day with clarity. How her magic had sharpened, how everything had seemed to come together in a rightness and calmness that surprised even her.

“The sea,” she answered. “It’s the sea.”

“Then it’s a good thing we live next to it, aye?” Cara said with a grin. “You don’t happen to hear the trees talk like Sonya, do you?”

Isla shook her head. “I’ve heard of Druids being able to do that. It’s a rare gift Sonya has.”

“So is her healing. I’ve come to truly understand how wonderful the Druids are. And to think Deirdre is killing them.”

Isla removed the dirt under her fingernails on one hand with the fingernail of her other. “For every Druid Deirdre kills, one turns from our ways. We are a dying breed, Cara. I fear that one day none of us will exist at all.”

“What will Deirdre do for power once all the Druids are dead? Won’t she need them still?”

“It was a question I posed to her as well. I thought if she realized how quickly she was killing them that she might allow more to live.”

Cara’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “That’s not what happened is it?”

“Nay. Deirdre explained to me that it was her goal to slay all the Druids. I would be the last to be killed.”

“Why?” Cara asked and threw her hands up. “I don’t understand.”

“If there are no Druids, no one would be able to challenge her.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “No one has yet. What makes her think there would ever come a time that it happened?”

“The droughs might be more powerful alone, Cara, but if a group of mies ever got together and focused their power against Deirdre they could destroy her. Or they could have. We’re past that now, I believe.”

“There are too few of us left,” Cara said sadly.

“Once Deirdre has consumed the magic of every Druid, she will be unstoppable.”

Ian leaned a shoulder against the kitchen wall and snorted. “And here I thought she was already unstoppable. We couldn’t kill her.”

Isla looked from Cara to Ian and back again. “But we did slow her down. If that can be done to her, there has to be a way to kill her.”