They made their way to the spot where Blair had secured the horses and what Gwen hoped would be a place to rest and make plans for how to proceed, but she couldn’t shake a strong sense of foreboding. “Are you sure we’ll be safe here?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure of anything. I keep hoping it’s all a bad dream, and I will wake up and find you snuggled beside me in bed after a night of passion.”
“I’ve been wishing the same thing since this started, but I’m afraid we have to face the fact that this is real and we might not be able to go home.” The thought of never seeing her parents or grandmother again bought unbearable pain to her heart. She worried about Beth. They’d been best friends since grade school, and while she was a grown woman, Gwen liked to think she was the common sense side of a friendship and Beth the lighthearted frivolous side. The only good thing was that Kyle had followed her into the past and she knew now beyond a shadow of a doubt that they really were meant to be together. She just hoped they’d have the chance.
“We’re here.” Kyle moved some brush and branches from the entrance to the cave. “I’ll go first to make sure the coast is clear.” He withdrew the dagger from his boot.
“I saw you drop that in the scuffle with the sailor and didn’t know you brought it along.” Of course she was so caught up in the moment of terror, she was certain there were many things she’d missed. And while she had never been one to endorse violence, she was glad they had some sort of protection.
“Never know when I might need it,” he said, smiling. “Wait here.” He entered the cave, leaving Gwen at the opening.
When he didn’t return immediately, Gwen feared the worst. Possible scenarios flooded her mind, none of them good. She wondered if he’d gotten lost or hurt. She wondered if someone had discovered the cave and lay in wait, or if it was inhabited by a wild animal that might have attacked him. While tempted to go inside and check on him, she waited as instructed.
“Coast is clear. Come on in.” Kyle stepped aside so Gwen could enter, then tugged some brush in front of the opening before joining her.
Gwen stopped dead in her tracks, stunned at what she saw. A fire roared in a stone pit located in the center of the cave and a pelt lay on the floor beside it. There were three horses tethered to iron rings on the far wall, each with a wooden bucket of water and a pile of hay. She whipped around to face Kyle. “This is amazing. But it’s a cave.”
He sat on the pelt and motioned for her to join him. “I’m surprised you’re still standing and not yet suffering from hypothermia. Come warm yourself up.”
She nipped her bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the urge to giggle. The sudden onset of giddiness was likely brought on in part, by utter exhaustion, but seeing Kyle in a cave, dressed like a fourteenth century Highlander, yet speaking like a twenty-first century doctor struck her as funny.
“Fortunately, I had the wool plaid Blair left to keep me warm, but you had nothing.” If not for the dry length of fabric, she wasn’t sure she’d have survived. If she ever got the chance to thank him in person, she would, wholeheartedly.
As she watched Kyle stoke the fire and add more wood, she wondered what it would be like if they couldn’t go back, or if by some slim chance they decided to stay in this century. With her education and Kyle’s expertise as a physician, she could only imagine how much they could do for the members of Clan MacQuin, especially the children. But Kyle had crossed time barriers to bring her home, and as long as Damen ruled the clan, he’d never allow them to help the poor.
She glanced around the cave, then hesitated when in the shadows, she noticed a stack of wooden kegs, water barrels, logs neatly piled along the wall, and a stack of pelts and plaids. “I still can’t believe this place is here and stocked with supplies too.”
“Blair told me that since the war with England heated up, these sorts of places have popped up throughout the Highlands. They are designed to be emergency shelters for Scottish soldiers, a place to go if caught up in a lengthy battle and in need of shelter, or in some cases, a spot to hide.”
Her stomach suddenly knotted with dread. “If Blair knew about this place, so must Collin Gower. It is on his land. And perhaps Damen knows too.” Panic-stricken and fearing the worst, Gwen rose, but Kyle grasped her wrist and tugged her onto his lap.
“I doubt either of them will come looking for us,” he said, then slid the plaid from her shoulders, swept her hair aside and feathered kisses from her earlobe to the base of her neck. “Collin Gower thinks you are on a ship bound for the Orkneys and so does Damen. We can rest here for a while, then leave if you like.”
She moaned aloud, savoring the feel of his lips on her skin. When he reached beneath the plaid, cupped her breasts through the thin fabric of her chemise, and teased the nipples into taut peaks with his thumbs, she thought she’d come undone. She dropped her head back, resting it on his shoulder “If you keep that up, I won’t want to go anywhere,” she cooed.
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” He grasped the hem of her chemise and tugged it over her head, leaving her naked body pressed against his bare chest. He turned her on his lap so she faced him and stared at her in the firelight. “You’re so beautiful, Gwen, and I’ve missed holding you and making love.” He gently laid her down, then rolled her beneath him, trapping her between the pelt-covered ground and his powerful frame.
“I love you so much it hurts, and was afraid I’d never get the chance to tell you again.” He lightly traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, before pressing his mouth to hers.
She parted her lips and he deepened the kiss, their tongues tasting and tangling in an intimate dance while his hands explored and kneaded her breasts.
Tendrils of desire unfurled in her belly. She longed to feel his strong hands caressing every inch of her body, wanted him to thrust inside her, give her what she’d missed and craved so much.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known,” he murmured against her throat, then began to nibble on her earlobe.
Dizzy with need, she moaned and dropped her head back. When his warm lips touched her neck, she dug her nails into his shoulders and begged him for more. He cupped her breasts, his fingers teasing her nipples, deepening her desire. She gasped with pleasure, moist heat pooling between her thighs and he feathered kisses along her body, the intimate trail ending at the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs.
A wolfish grin tugged at his lips as he dipped his head, then snaked his tongue around her bud of arousal. He fed hungrily, slowly at first, then he picked up the tempo.
Gwen whimpered and squirmed, but couldn’t bring herself to ask him to stop the sweet torment. He lapped at her sensitive folds, licking from front to back and then in reverse, igniting a wild fire of passion, the pressure building until she didn’t think she could take any more.
“Enough,” Gwen pleaded on a strangled breath, but he paid her no mind. Instead, he brought her to the precipice of release time and time again.
Her breathing came in short sharp pants, her heart pounded, and every part of her body was alive with intense sensations, more powerful than she’d ever experienced before. Her legs began to quiver and her core clenched as a mind-numbing, bone-melting euphoria engulfed her. But he didn’t stop there. He continued to suckle until the last waves of her release subsided, and she lay motionless on the pelt, gasping for air. Only then did he release her from the intimate torture.
“That was amazing. “I can’t believe how every time we are together is more intense than the first.”
“It’s only the beginning, sweetheart. I’ve been dreaming about this moment since the day you left on your trip.”
“Make love to me, Kyle,” she muttered softly and raised her hips when he nudged her legs apart with his knee, his pulsing arousal resting against her thigh. Overcome with desire, she granted him access to her most intimate place, eager for what promised to be an earth-shattering union.
He entered her slowly, slid in a little, pulled out, then eased in further, mercilessly teasing her with each thrust, before burying his shaft to the hilt and setting her body on fire.
He rocked into her with wild abandon, setting a rhythm she matched with equal enthusiasm. When her feminine muscles clenched around his engorged shaft and she called out his name, Kyle increased the speed with which he pounded into her. He covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her whimpers of pleasure, riding her until he joined her in his own release and collapsed on the pelt beside her.
Exhausted and fully sated, they nodded off, entwined in each other’s arms.
~ * ~
Gwen opened her eyes, surprised to find she was no longer in the cave with Kyle, but standing alone in the middle of the fairy circle behind MacQuin Castle, the meadow lit only by the light of a full moon. “What happened and how did I end up back here?” She scrubbed her fists across her eyes, then turned full circle, taking in the area around her.
“You are where it all began. Your life, the exchange of souls, and your return.” The woman lurking in the shadows stepped into view.
“Is that you, Beatha?” Gwen wasn’t sure if the woman was real or a figment of her imagination.
“Aye.” Beatha nodded, then frowned. “You summoned me, who else would it be?”
“I didn’t know I could.”
Beatha chuckled. “You never asked.”
“I have been through hell and back. Did you not think I would welcome your advice, if not your assistance?” Gwen didn’t mean to sound harsh, but she was desperate to find a way to get rid of Damen and help her ancestors. She also knew if she was caught, she’d be forced to marry Duncan Gower.
“You had many things to learn and were na ready. Nor was Kyle,” she replied. “Now you both know what is truly important and what is in your hearts, you are ready to proceed.”
“Proceed with what, where?” She threw her hands up in frustration. “Please stop talking in riddled and tell me what you mean.”
“Do you believe you were born in this time and sent away by your mother because she loved you more than her own needs?”
Gwen nodded.
“Do you love Caol MacKay?”
“I love Kyle with all my heart.”
Beatha smiled. “I have a feeling Caol has learned much about his ancestry and his own heart as well.”
“I hope so,” Gwen replied.
“Now, the only obstacle to your happiness is Damen, and only you can send him back.”
It amazed her how Beatha not only knew what was in her heart, but in her thoughts as well. “I would like nothing better than to banish him back to the netherworld, but don’t have a clue how to do it.”
“Getting rid of him willna be easy. Usually a changeling is left when the babe in question is newly born and the parents have let down their guard. Na often does a mother ask the fairies to replace their bairn.” Beatha stroked her chin and tapped her brow. “Many of the methods desperate parents have tried to rid themselves of an evil fairy can be quite brutal. They believe burning the babe alive, holding them over a pot of scalding water, or submerging them until they stop breathing will send the changeling away and bring their real bairn home.”
“Well he is a grown man and none of those ways of dispensing with him will work. Not that I would or could ever consider such things.” Wondering if there was any way to stop Damen, Gwen paced. “There has to be something that will send him back.”
“Most of the time, changelings dinna live to be much older than seven summers. But there are rare cases, as with Damen, where, if na discovered or they are na sent back, they can live for many years, sometimes through many lifetimes, wreaking havoc, causing poverty, misfortune, illness, and despair,” Beatha explained.
“That pretty well describes Damen. And to be honest, he scares me to death. He is pure evil and I am not sure I am strong enough to confront him.”
“I might recommend you carry a piece of iron and a twig of rowan with you at all times. The talismans will protect you from fairies and witches. But it is not a proven way to send him back.” Beatha pointed to a small bush at the edge of the forest. “Yonder stands a rowan bush. Being a witch myself, I canna help you obtain a twig,” she said, then laughed.
“And the iron?”
“A nail will do. For centuries cradles have been made using rowan or oak with iron spikes or adornments to protect babies from the fairies. Another way is to trick the changeling into revealing who and what they are. Once that is achieved, they often go back to the fae world.”
“How?”
“A common trick is to announce you plan to make a meal and rather than a pot, will cook it in an egg shell. A changeling will find this logic odd and feel compelled to recite this rhyme.
“Acorn before oak I knew, and an egg before a hen, but never before have I seen an eggshell brew dinner for harvest men.”
Gwen looked at Beatha in disbelief. “What an odd thing to do. How could that send a devil like Damen back to the fairy world?”
“After he has revealed himself as a changeling, all you need do is order him to return from whence he came.”
It couldn’t be that simple and there had to be more. If that was all it took, Gwen was surprised no one had caught on and cast him out sooner. But when she went to ask for more details, Beatha had once again vanished.
“Beatha, wait,” Gwen called, but got no reply. She had to find Kyle, and turned to run, but Damen blocked the path.
“We finally meet when no one else is around to disturb us. You were never supposed to return and it is time to fix that,” he growled and took a menacing step forward, reaching for her.
~ * ~
“No! Get back.” Gwen sat up with a start, her heart pounding.
“Is everything okay, sweetheart? You were in a fitful sleep, mumbling something about iron and rowan. I tried to wake you up, but couldn’t.” Kyle looped his arm around her shoulders and drew her against his chest. “You’re trembling.”
“I had a nightmare.”
Kyle buried his face in the curve of her neck, then nipped at her ear. “I can help you forget all about the bad dream.”
She placed her hand on his chest and gently shoved him away. “I’m sure you can, but I’ll be fine. I just need a minute to catch my breath.” To her relief, parts of the dream quickly faded. She eased out of Kyle’s embrace and stood. “We’d best be on our way before someone finds us.” She moved to where her clothes lay in a neat pile by the fire, and quickly donned them. As she reached for her slippers, she noticed the wooden cross Kyle wore as part of his disguise. She picked it up, admiring the detailed carving. “What’s this made of, do you know?”
“Blair mentioned it was made of rowan and said it was supposed to ward off evil.” He laughed. “Not that I believe any of it.”
“After what we’ve been through in the last few days?” She handed the cross to Kyle. “Put it on. Please.”
He cast her a wary glance. “I see no need to continue the ruse of me being a priest. I planned to wear my regular clothing.” He tugged on his trews and boots, then pulled his tunic over his head.
Gwen hoped that what Beatha had said was true and an item made of rowan could serve as a talisman against evil. “Humor me by putting it on,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Promise you won’t take it off.”
Once he’d put the cross around his neck, he glanced at Gwen. “Happy?”
“Yes, very.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “A taste of what’s to come later,” she teased, then scooted out of reach when he tried to grab her around the waist.
Kyle smiled. “I’ll hold you to that promise.” After throwing some dirt on the fire and tucking his dagger in his boot, he packed some supplies and tied the sack to the back of his saddle. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” He turned to face Gwen, but they were not alone.