Secret of the Wolf (Silver Wolves MC Book 2) by Sky Winters (27)

He lay next to me, entwining my hand in his and examining our hands together in the moonlight. I curled my body into him and we lay like that for as long as I could stand before I was shivering with the cold. I dressed slowly as he watched, lounging immodestly on the tartan, his expelled member resting against his leg and glistening in the firelight.

“Are you ready then?” he asked me, his eyes intent.

“Ready for what?” I asked, thinking with some surprise that he already wanted to have another go with me on the tartan.

“To marry me?” he asked, his warm lips curled into a grin.

I opened my mouth and closed it again, unable to find the right words. Instead, I made my way over to him and knelt down with my hands around his broad shoulders.

“Yes,” I whispered into his ear. We hugged and he held me tightly. I was ready to embrace my new home and a completely different way of life.

Epilogue

 

It had been six months since I first arrived with the highlanders. Lord Lachlan and I were bound in union for a month. We'd had a very Gaelic wedding ceremony in the mountains, with the fresh air blowing our hair out toward the wind. I could feel Kain there, blessing us with his spirit. Lord Lachlan had a great hand in convincing me that he had never left me at all, not the way I thought he had. It brought me a great sense of peace, and knowing that my twin and his little pup were attending my wedding was the best gift I could ever have received.

At least, that's what I thought until I noticed with some concern that I hadn't bled since a frisky romp my husband and I had a few months ago, near the spring where we had first shared a kiss. I came to him with the news and his entire face lit up.

“You do realize what this means, don't you, Bethia?” he asked me, picking me up and spinning me around his tent.

“I don't...” I said, my eyebrows furrowed. Although I was a woman, my own body's workings were still quite mysterious to me. Nobody in the lowlands thought it was proper to teach a woman how she worked. I was impressed and surprised by the frankness the highland women shared with their young, bare-footed children about the way nature worked. In my native home it was shameful, but here it was a natural and accepted aspect of life.

“You're with child, love! It is a day to celebrate!” he exclaimed. “You're having my children!”

“Your...you mean we're starting a family? Already?” I asked, laughing in disbelief as he continued to dance with me. I let him spin me round in his strong arms.

“Yes! Our legacy shall continue.”

I held him still for a moment, tears in my eyes.

“I think it's twins,” I whispered.

He knew the significance to me and held me close.

“They'll be the most well loved pups in all the world,” he said softly.

We held each other, both lost in thought. Our future was in my belly right that moment, and we couldn't have been happier.

The End.

Chapter One

Alisa stared out over her family’s lands from the parapet of her father’s castle. Clan McGregor had some of the largest holdings in Scotland, and even in the midst of a bloody, devastating civil war, the true wealth of her kin was in rolling emerald hills and blue skies so sharp and clear even a dreary day could seem like a summer frolic. She thought to herself, I may never see this sight again, and though in that moment she felt like indulging in self-pity, she alone of all her sisters had the sense to recognize the futility of such thinking.

Lord Cheshire, the illustrious Earl of Shrewsbury, had chosen her above all other eligible highland lasses to be his wife. He had himself suggested a union with Alisa’s father, a merging of family lines intended to satisfy the feuding royalists and preempt any further bloodshed. War was the last thing anyone wanted. Lord Cheshire had first seen Alisa at a Christmas festival in Edinburgh when she was thirteen, and now five years later, he’d come to collect that which he’d so clearly coveted.

Alisa was the tallest of her sisters, with long blonde hair that broke the typical McGregor pattern of dark features. As she’d grown into a woman, she’d cut a figure which always seemed to attract attention, though Lord in Heaven knew why that was. It wasn’t that she considered herself ugly, not really. It was just that she didn’t see herself as the typical female object of desire. In her mind, she was still the awkward girl who rebelled against stiff petticoats and ruffled collars, who loved spending days down by the bog, catching toads and laughing till her father’s men came to collect her for supper. And the thought that her clan had decided so quickly to give her away, to simply offer her up as one would offer mutton … She knew it was the way of things, the way their world had always been. But just once, at one point in the long, storied history of men and women—she wished a single lass had deigned to stand up and shout to all the men of the world, Ye can’t have me! I am my own woman!

But such thoughts were silly and empty and she knew it. Fixing her eyes on a wealth of windswept fields of thistle, she heaved an exhausted sigh and trudged back inside through the heavy birch door. Closing it behind her with a loud thud, she slipped out of her cape, slung it over an arm, and made her way back to her waiting room, where she was expected by a chamber maid and a very impatient Lady McGregor.

Alisa entered with an unexpected heaviness in her heart. When her mother saw her, she threw up her hands in exasperation. “There ye are! What would I have done if ye’d managed to escape?”

Alisa scowled at her. “I would’ne have tried to escape, mother. Nor have I ever done so. Just because I talk about—”

“Talk, talk, talk! No more talk, deary, now’s the time to be on with it. Come over here. Ye’ve made a mess of Margarete’s dressing.”

Alisa did as she was told and allowed her mother to lace her bodice tighter and straighten her dark green dress. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Clan society considered it unbecoming of a lady to look in any way unprepossessing when presenting herself to her betrothed for the first time. The Earl had insisted on ushering her to England himself before any wedding could take place. Alisa’s mother wouldn’t be there when she took her vows, and neither would her father or sisters. Lady McGregor had clearly found the decision difficult to bear, but she’d done her duty and had kept her misgivings to herself.

   Eyeing her in the mirror as she brushed out her daughter’s long blonde hair, Alisa tried to count all the new wrinkles that’d expressed herself at the corners of her eyes and lips, wondering not for the first time what a lifetime of matriarchal obligations would look like on her own face.

“Mother, can I ask ye something?” Alisa said.

“Of course, deary.”

“Were you in love with father when he came to collect you from grandda’s?”

Her mother paused, the bristles of Alisa’s brush catching in her hair. “I hardly knew your father, Alisa. We’d only spoken once.”

“And ye were happy with grandda’s choice? You found father charming and handsome and—”

“What has charming and handsome got to do with anything?” her mother said. “We do what me must in life, daughter. Youth perhaps convinces us the world is wide open and welcoming to all our desires and whims. The truth of it is life demands much in the way of self-sacrifice and the dimming of all our girlhood dreams. To be the wife of a high lord is a calling to service much greater than most will ever know. As the bride of the Earl, Alisa, ye will not just be responsible for your man and his children. It will be your role to stand as the very bedrock upon which his destiny is built. If ye want to see the ultimate success of a man, deary, then look ne farther than his wife.”

Alisa considered this, and the tiny lump of dread that’d been forming in her stomach for the past week seemed to grow the size of a standing stone. Service? Self-sacrifice? Surely that wasn’t the end all, be all of a woman’s life. Yet if Alisa were to take stock of all the women she’d known, she surmised she might find well-worn riverbeds of common matriarchal experience.

Was there truly nothing greater to look forward to? Was she destined to an existence meant for someone else rather than herself?

“Mother, is the Earl a good man? Is he…?”

“Is he what, deary?” her mother asked.

“Compassionate. Caring. Loath to cause me harm?’

Despite whatever she may have wanted to do, Alisa’s mother frowned deeply and sadly.

“Compassion has nothing to do with it, Alisa,” she said. “The man is yours now and you are his. That’s all there is to say on the matter.”

* * * * *

Alisa stood with her father as he presented her to the Earl of Shrewsbury, a tall and callow-faced older man who had the look of a shrewd and powerful warlord. Of course, rather than a soldier’s existence or the duty of a keeper of the peace, the life of an English lord was one of endless political rambling and trying to pretend all the extravagant wealth and influence was deserved. That’s what Alisa’s father always said, anyway. In private, he despised the English. To her, the Earl seemed the least vivacious man she’d ever met, with cold, cynical eyes that seemed to find no amusement in anything.

A meal had been prepared, but Chesire had said he didn’t want it. He hadn’t even made it past the drafty, echoing entrance to the reception wing. The intent, Alisa knew, was to leave for England immediately, which meant she was only moments away from bidding her entire family goodbye.

“Lord Fredrick Cheshire,” her father said, “allow me to introduce my eldest daughter, Alisa McGregor. Go on, lamb, say hello to the man.”

Alisa stepped forward, clutched the hem of her dress, and bowed for the Earl. Smiling up at him, she said, “Pleased to meet you, my lord. I very much look forward to seeing your home.”

Cheshire smiled at her, but there was little warmth in it. “Do you indeed? I should think you’re also filled with terrible trepidation.”

Alisa didn’t know what to say to this. His voice was dry and wavering, as if he smoked too much. He had a somewhat shambly appearance also, a lace collar unfastened at the neck and a fine red coat he’d not bothered to button.

“No, my lord, I’ve no trepidation,” Alisa lied. “I am at your service, as is Clan McGregor.” 

The Earl laughed at this. He eyed her father keenly and said, “Is that true, McGregor? Is your clan at my service?”

Her father grimaced and cleared his throat. “Of course, my lord. We want no further bloodshed. The crown has nary an enemy in us, I assure you. As long as this lass is well taken care of.”

“She’ll want for nothing, I assure you,” the Earl said crudely licking his lips. “Come my dear, our carriage awaits.”

Alisa hugged her father and said her goodbyes to her sisters. Her mother nearly burst into tears when she told her she loved her, but proud woman she was, she kept them in check and gave her a hug. With nothing further to be said, Alisa left with Lord Cheshire and felt the weight of her entire Clan as the heavy doors of her father’s castle closed behind her.

“Will there be time to collect my horse?” Alisa asked.

“No. You can have a new one when we’re in England,” the Earl said. “You want a quality foal for riding, girl, not a Scottish nag.”  

Chapter Two

The Earl’s carriage bumped along through the forest as the sounds of evening fowl and woodpeckers echoed in the soft gray twilight. Why Cheshire had insisted on traveling through the night Alisa couldn’t understand, and now that they’d taken to the road he seemed fidgety. He mumbled to himself as he squinted at a handful of yellowed documents. Every so often he’d spare a glance out the window, as if he expected to see something other than the deep Scottish woodland. Alisa knew she had no business asking, but she found herself too curious for her own good.

“Lord, what is it you’re trying to read?”

“Trying to read? What do you mean trying to read?” the Earl said.

“You’ve not taken your eyes off those leaves this entire hour. Is there something I can help you with? Can ye not see them clearly?”

Lord Cheshire looked up at her and gained a bitter, morbid expression. “How old do I seem to you, dear? The elderly Earl of Shrewsbury? It must be a frightful worry, this betrothal of ours.”

Alisa knew she’d stepped in it. She sat up straighter and smoothed out a ruffle in her dress.

“No, my lord,” she said. “It’s just that the light is waning and you seem as though—”

“I’ve lost my sight,” Cheshire said. “You know not too terribly long ago I’d have had my pick of any woman in England. Do you believe that?”

“Of course I do, my lord. You’re very handsome.”

“You’re lying. You don’t find me handsome. I’m no longer a specimen of young masculinity, which is all little girls raised in little castles in little countries can think of. I’ve lived a life of sacrifice and heartbreak, my dear, which is precisely what you’re likely to live. That I’ve earned a few scars and wrinkles along the way is merely a testament to the fact I survived. You could learn a thing or two from an old face like this. You’re very pretty, and your loins are very young, and at my age the only thing you’ve got to leave behind is progeny. Does that suit you? You’re to bear me sons, as many as I want. My last wife didn’t have it in her.”

“And … and what became of her, my lord?” Alisa ventured.

“She died. Tragically. I do so intend better fortune for you.”

The carriage came to a stop. They heard Cheshire’s men barking at each other, issuing orders, then a hail of arrows rained down on them, punching holes in the carriage and dropping the Earl’s men from their horses.

Cheshire shouted, “They’ve found us!” and then a battle cry sounded from the woods and a group of tartaned highland assassins bolted from behind the large, moss-covered trees. They joined battle with the remainder of Cheshire’s men, English steel meeting powerful, brawny Scottish broadswords.

“Who are they?” Alisa said, whipping around to get a better view.

“Clan Campbell,” the Earl said.

“Campbell? I thought—”

“They’re displeased with your father. The old blood feud holds true, it would seem. They don’t like him marrying you to me.”

“They’ve come to kill you?”

“They’ve come to kill us both,” Cheshire hissed.

The earl ripped up the papers in his hands, retrieved a flintlock pistol and rapier sword from a compartment under his seat, and then he kicked the carriage door open.

“What are those papers?” Alisa said.

“Our marriage contract. You’re on your own, my dear.”

With that, Lord Cheshire scrambled into the woods for a nearby boulder.

“He’s there, lads!” one of the assassins called.

Musket fire peppered the boulder. The Earl was over and dashing away, heading for a thick knot of oaks.

“After him!” the assassin said. Three assassins bolted after him. Alisa recognized her chance to escape, but rather than rushing from the carriage, she dropped to the muddy ground and began crawling for the low embankment off the side of the road. The final, piteous sounds of battle ended behind her as one of the Earl’s men screamed, gurgled loudly, and then fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

“Search the carriage,” one of the assassins said.

Alisa scrambled for the embankment. She rolled down into it then crawled behind some leafy undergrowth. Two assassins searched the carriage, announcing loudly the McGregor girl wasn’t in it.

“Well find her, ye halfwits!” their commander bellowed. “The bitch couldne have gotten far.”

On her hands and knees, Alisa backed her way behind a large birch. She scrambled a few hundred feet and dove behind the cover of a decaying log. Scanning the assassins at the carriage, fear coursing through her, she picked her time and ran away as fast as she could.

* * * * *

It was cold and dark in the forest before long. Though Alisa hadn’t heard them crashing through the underbrush and barking at each other in at least an hour, she felt more afraid now than she had during the attack. She clutched herself tightly, willing her feet to carry her further from harm. She shivered all over, remembering again and again arrows punching through armor and swords hacking limbs from bodies.

Alisa drew her hands to her mouth and blew into them. She felt something wet on her face and imagined it to be blood, though of course she’d been far from the brutality of Campbell’s killers. Clan Campbell had long been sworn enemies of the MacGregor’s, but they’d not tried anything so brazen in many years. Alisa recalled her father and his counselors speaking of them in recent weeks, but she’d just assumed they were bickering over a minor land dispute. And somehow, the Earl had gotten word Campbell meant to attack. Why else would he have seemed so jittery during the carriage ride?

Exhausted, frightened beyond anything she’d ever know, Alisa broke down and fell to the ground beside the babbling water of a small brook. What was she going to do? How on Earth would she find her way home? She knew these lands as well as any young lass, but she’d lost all sense of direction as she’d run from the assassins. October had come to the Highlands and with it the first bitter chills of winter. If she couldn’t find shelter and build a fire for herself, she wasn’t likely to make it any—

Twigs snapped in the underbrush behind her. She spun around and came face to face with a Campbell assassin. He had a large, bushy orange beard, and a stock and body so big his shoulders were like the A-frame of a house. He chuckled and drew his sword from his tartan sash.

“There you are, little gorgeous,” he said. “We’ve wondered off, have we?”

Alisa scooted away from him and splashed into the brook. Icy water bit at her, and her breath seized in her lungs.

“Now, now, no need to fear,” said the assassin. “I think you’ll find I’m a very spirited man once ye get to know me.”

He laughed and splashed into the brook. Alisa’s muscles refused to move. The water was so very cold and the terror so all-encompassing. She tried to crawl for the other side. The Campbell assassin grabbed her by the hair and jerked her to her feet. Alisa cried out in pain.

“Don ye try nothin’ pretty with me, little lass,” he breathed into her ear. “I’d make ye a skinned heifer just as soon as I’d—”

An arrow whistled through the air and punched through his shoulder. The assassin screamed and dropped her back into the water. Alisa’s head went under. Water got into her lungs, and she scrambled to her knees and coughed. A large black shape rushed from the trees and dropped the assassin with a single heavy blow. For a moment, the figure seemed more beast than man, but Alisa got a look at a heavy hunting bow, and she realized this individual had happened on them by chance.

The assassin struggled and received a final heavy blow to the head. He didn’t struggle after that. Alisa coughed and choked, the darkness seeming to consume her entire world.

She heard a deep, grizzled voice say, “Lass, are ye all right?”

She swooned and dropped. Her savior caught her and then she passed out cold.

Chapter Three

Alisa felt the motions of the horse before she was fully aware enough to open her eyes. The world seemed yellow and bright, and she wondered perhaps if she had died.

“Whoa, Roach. Easy does it,” she heard someone say.

Alisa opened her eyes. She’d been slung over the horse. It was early morning judging by the golden light filtering through the trees. A highland warrior sat proudly with her on the mount. His body was wide and muscular, and a certain tantalizing musky yet sweet aroma hung about him.

“Stop,” Alisa said. “I’ve got to get off.”

The warrior bade his horse halt and she nickered. Alisa dropped to her feet and grunted, her body stiff and achy. She turned to take him in. Handsome, ruggedly so, with long black hair and the scratchy beginnings of a beard. He was built like an ox, yet his eyes were warm and compassionate. He unslung a water flagon from his side and handed it to her, smiling. She snatched it and tugged on the stopper, drinking greedily as water ran down her chin.

“There, feel better now?” the warrior said.

Alisa very nearly emptied the flagon. She took a final gulp and then wiped the water from her chin.

“Who are ye?” she asked. “What do ye want with me?”

“I want nothing, lass. Happened to be hunting last night. Clan Campbell has driven the herds from my lands, so now I must venture far afield to feed my kin.”

“Campbell? You’ve had dealings with them?”

“I have,” the warrior said in his deep, grizzled voice. “It seems ye have as well. Those assassins were well trained.”

“Are you going to take me home?”

The warrior sighed and hopped off his horse. He towered over her, an absolute giant of a man. His bright blue eyes seemed to sparkle in the morning light. And there it was again, that amazing musky scent sweet as sugar.

“No,” he said, “I cannae risk it. Your father is embattled, and whether he knows it or not, the only thing keeping him alive is your death.”

“You know who my father is?”

“Aye. My kin and I were foot soldiers of his at one time. I know who you are, young lass, though the last time I saw ye …” He paused and looked her over, his eyes lingering for a moment or two on her bosom. “Ye weren’t so tall.”

“Why would they think I’m dead?”

The warrior extended a hand and gestured for her to take it. She did so and he kissed the ring on her finger. “My lady, my name is Logan Allaway of the Artos Clan. I swear to protect and watch over you in any way I can, but I cannae take you home. Too much is at stake.”

“Why?”

“Your father is the only one keeping Campbell in check,” Logan said. “This bloody war will make corpses of us all. My men and I would be defending him still if we hadn’t …”

“Hadn’t what?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m taking you to our village. You’ll be safe there.”

Alisa folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “And what if I choose not to go?”

Logan shrugged. “I wouldnae recommend it. You don’t even know where you are. And more assassins may be lurking about.”

“And I suppose you’ll force me to go regardless?”

“No. You’re a grown woman. Ye can decide for yerself.”

Alisa bit her lip and looked into the woods. Though morning had come, the clouds and mist were rolling in, and in the depths of the forest the right direction may be impossible to determine. She noticed he was staring at her lip with a hint of attraction in his eyes. She stopped biting it and unfolded her arms.

“They won’t come looking for me?” she said.

“I hope not. Beggin’ yer pardon, but I, uh, tore off a piece of yer dress and covered it in blood. Left it where they’ll find it. Lay down more blood to suggest an animal attack.”

“Where’d you get the blood?”

“I’m a hunter. There’s always blood.”

Alisa appreciated the ingenuity of Logan’s plan. It was a fair bet Clan Campbell would fall in line behind his assumptions. And he’d said her father would be safe if they believed her dead for now.

“My family, they’ll feel such grief,” she said.

“But you’ll be alive. My kin are hearty and brave and they’ll aid you in whatever way they can. Clan McGregor have always been friends to us. We’ve not forgotten the oaths we swore.”

And yet you’ve all abandoned him, Alisa thought.

Roach whinnied and rose up to kick at the air. She circled Logan and Alisa, her back legs bucking anxiously.

“What is it, girl?” Logan said.

Despite herself, Alisa moved closer to him and eyed his broadsword. “What’s wrong? More assassins?”

“No. She wouldnae be so spirited if—”

A pack of wolves darted from the forest, gnashing their teeth and growling. Roach wheeled and bolted. Logan withdrew his sword too slowly, and the largest wolf—jet black and covered in scars—leapt for him and drove him to the ground. Alisa cried out and watched in horror as the wolf angled its jaws for his throat. Logan took hold if its snout, its jaw chomping shut over its nasty yellow teeth. She heard growling behind her. Quickly, she dove for Logan’s dropped sword and came up swinging. The nearest wolf dodged the blade. It circled around and reached for her leg.

White fire leapt from her skin as the wolf swiped and drew blood. Alisa cried out.

Logan roared, not the sound of a man but a mighty beast. Before her eyes, the highland warrior who’d saved her life transformed into something bigger, deadlier, covered in dark fur and claws and with wicked, sharp teeth. His bones snapped and popped, and his skin stretched to accommodate his new mass. Logan howled in agony.

“Bear,” Alisa breathed. “Yer a bear.”

He threw off the black wolf with his mighty arms big as tree trunks. Logan climbed to his feet and moved to stand between Alisa and the pack. One wolf pitched a sudden snarling attack, and Logan batted him aside and opened his throat with his jaws. The other wolves made a show of aggression, advancing, retreating, circling to test for weakness. Logan showed them none. He roared a final mighty challenge, and to a wolf, the pack tucked their tails between their legs, whimpered, and scurried back into the depths of the forest.

Logan growled at them, a deep rumbling sound that seemed to shake the earth beneath her feet. He was enormous, twice the size of a man. His claws were long and severe, and his dark muzzle was covered in blood. She gaped at him in wide-eyed bewilderment, terrified of his strength and ferocity, daring not to speak his name or draw his attention.

After a time, Logan’s posture relaxed, and he met Alisa’s eyes and nodded at her. He hadn’t the eyes of a bear, dull and simple, but rather the same sparkling blues. He huffed in pain and dropped to the ground. The alpha wolf had bitten his shoulder. It looked deep. Alisa took a step and his body suddenly reversed back into his human form. He howled again, his bones popping and a bed of thick fur dropping from his pale skin. A few moments later, Logan lay there as a man, naked and trembling, clutching his bloodied shoulder. Dear lord, his body was beautiful. Strong and muscular and full of life. Alisa did her best to avert her eyes, but it was much tougher than she thought.

“Lass, my tartan,” he said.

Eyeing the wound, she searched for the scraps of his kilt and sash and covered him with them. He thanked her and got to his feet, swooning and swaying and at last collapsing.

“My village,” he said. “We have medicine. My kind will know what to do.”

“Where?” she asked.

“Ride north. Full day’s journey. You cross into their lands and they’ll find you.”

Logan’s eyes rolled into his head and he lost consciousness. Alisa looked over his body, rippling muscles, more scars then she’d ever seen a single person wear. She folded up his tartan and wrapped it around his wound.

“What are you, Logan Allaway?” she said.

Chapter Four

At nightfall on the second day, Alisa rode Logan’s horse into a rolling green glen, the grass of which swayed in the gentle October breeze. She was freezing and starving and had not had decent rest or a meal in days. She thought perhaps she’d gone the wrong way, the moon above bright despite the lingering orange sunlight on the horizon. She glanced back at Logan, who had passed out again despite having been awake and speaking with her the previous hour.

“Are these your lands, Logan? Have we made it to safety?”

As soon as she spoke these words, a group of four horseman came up over the hill and rode down to meet her. They drew around her in a tight semi-circle. The foremost of the group—a grey-bearded old warrior—brandished his sword and told his men to hold.

“Who are you, lass?” he said. “And who’s that slung over yer horse?”

“This man helped me in the forest. He told me to seek out the village of the Artos.”

The warriors exchanged nervous glances, yet recognition lit the eyes of the oldest among them.

“You’re Alisa MacGregor. The Chieftain’s daughter,” he said.

Alisa swallowed roughly. “I am. And this is Logan Allaway of the Artos Clan. Would ye be them?”

The old grey beard jumped from his horse and moved to get a better look at her passenger.

“Ack, Logan, what have ye gotten into?”

“We were attacked by wolves,” Alisa said. “He saved me.”

The old man eyed her suspiciously. “Did he now? In what way, I wonder?”

She glanced at the other warriors. “In a way perhaps we best nae speak of outdoors.”

He nodded and placed a gentle hand on Logan’s forehead. “Lads, young Miss Macgregor is our guest.”

* * * * *

Alisa stood by as the warriors lifted Logan from his horse and carried him inside a squat peat house in the middle of the small village. She followed them inside and did her best not to get in the healing woman’s way as she examined his shoulder. He lay on a bed of straw. His face was so pale, and the men confirmed his skin was cold as a bottomless loch.

“It’s deep,” the healing woman said in a wavering brogue. “Who wrapped his shoulder this way?”

The warriors turned to Alisa. She cleared her throat and said, “I did. I worried he’d bleed to death.”

“He would have. Very lucky you thought of it. Who are ye, deary?”

One of the warriors leaned in and whispered in the old woman’s ear. She smiled and said, “The marriage is off, I take it.”

“It would seem so,” Alisa said.

Nodding, the old woman went to a dusty, moldering cabinet. She opened the doors with a creak and withdrew a small bottle filled with a deep and murky liquid.

“Hold open his mouth,” she said.

One warrior, taller than the rest, did as she asked. The healing woman unstoppered the bottle and dumped half down Logan’s throat. She gestured for the warrior to shut his mouth then pinched his nose closed until she was satisfied Logan had swallowed.

“Will he be all right?” Alisa asked.

“Time will tell, deary. Though I do believe he’ll be awake and talking sometime in the next few days. Logan’s very lucky to have had you there. The thread between life and death is so fragile some dinnae even know it’s there.”

The door banged open and the grey bearded warrior strode into the peat house. He got a look at Logan and asked the old healer if there was anything she needed.

“Not for now, Drew,” she said. “Magic cannae be rushed.”

“Magic?” Alisa said.

“Indeed,” said the grey beard. “Not magic of spells and incantations but of the wild things that grow all around us. Tell me, lass, why is it Logan urged you to come? He’d not have insisted if it were only his life in danger.”

“That’s true. It wasn’t. Logan saved me from…”

Sensing her hesitancy, the healing woman shook her head.

“Ye may as well trust Drew, deary,” she said. “It seems as though yer short on friends.”

Alisa had concluded as much. She drew a strand of golden yellow hair from her eyes and divulged everything to them.

“Clan Campbell meant to murder me and the Earl of Shrewsbury. The Earl may have gotten away, but I don’t think so. We’ve always known they despised us for our loyalty to the crown, but until now, we’d thought them incapable of such aggression. Logan made it appear as if I was dead, so as far as I know, my family is grieving deeply even as we speak.” A wellspring of remorse and regret filled her heart. “I wish I could send word to them. But Logan said Father wouldnae be safe if they knew I was still alive.”

The old warrior, Drew, eyed her and scratched his beard. The sounds of the village called to them. There were families here, which surprised Alisa. She heard the mooing of the shaggy highland cows and the murmur of villagers as they went about their day.

“It’s quite the story,” Drew said. “I wish I could say we also believed Clan Campbell harmless, but they’ve been pillaging our lands for several month now. I’m surprised they managed to pull off this attack without us knowing about it. Believe me, lass, if we had, we’d have warned yer father.”

“Who are you?” she asked. “What is this place? How can Logan…?”

Drew smiled. “Shift. How can he transform into a bear?”

Alisa nodded.

“Perhaps ye should show her, Drew,” the medicine woman suggested, her face grave and serious. “We cannae stay hidden forever.”

* * * * *

Alisa followed drew to a ramshackle hut built over an old burial mound, otherwise known as a cairn. The druids of old were said to yet dwell beneath the sloping piles of earth, their worldly remains shelters for their dark magic and eager souls. Stopping outside the door to the hut, Drew withdrew a large bronze key. Pausing, he said, “Lass, what will ye do once you have yer answer? Will you tell yer father of Logan?”

“Not if he doesn’t want me to,” Alisa responded.

“You’d keep a secret like that? You’d be strong enough to do it?”

“I’m a woman of my word. My Father taught me to be so. Why should anyone need to know what Logan’s capable of?”

This seemed to satisfy Drew, though she thought she still detected uncertainty. He jerked open the door and gestured for her to enter. Something dark and pungent wafted over her, and she peered inside.

“It isn’t just Logan, is it?” she said. “You can do it too.”

“Please, enter.”

She stepped inside and waited for Drew to close the door. At the back of the shack a narrow tunnel had been dug into the side of the cairn perhaps half a man tall and just as wide. The smell of earth and decay filled her nose, and she felt her stomach twist. There were dark things lurking in the burial mounds of Scotland. Every young lass and lad knew that.

“Miss MacGregor, we all deeply regret leaving your father’s service,” Drew said. “The chieftain always treated us well and looked after our interests. I wish we could help him now. His enemies are much deadlier than he realizes.”

“Why can’t you? Why are ye so isolated and hidden from the world?”

The old warrior’s eyes grew sad. He took a torch from its sconce beside the door and sparked a flint against a stone. Light filled the shack and tunnel as the torch flared to life.

“Watch yer head, my lady,” Drew said, stooping low and passing into the cairn.

Alisa did her best to suppress a sudden trill of fear and then followed. The tunnel was perhaps only two meters long. Pungent earth and mud dropped onto her in small clumps. Upon entering the cairn, she saw it was bowl-shaped, the length and width of a small boat. Ancient, semi-fossilized wood could be seen at anchor and support points, and a large oak table rested in the center, covered with jewels and gold that glinted in the flickering yellow light.

“Who was buried here?” Alisa asked.

“The first of our kind. It’s said he towered over men and had the strength of the gods. He had a woman he loved deeply, but she was taken by another. He came to this glen in search of the druid gods of old. He found them.”

Alisa spotted a rolled parchment on the table and moved to pick it up. Unfolding it, she discovered a long and storied lineage chart. Hundreds of names, some of which she recognized from local history and lore.

“There are so many of you,” she said.

“Aye, though many less than there were perhaps even a hundred years ago. We’ve served the chieftains of this region for centuries, and we never made a mistake when it came to concealing our true nature.”

“It’s true, then. It isn’t just Logan.”

“No, lass, it’s not,” said Drew. “And perhaps it’s no coincidence Logan was there to help you.”

Alisa rolled the linage chart back up and gently placed it on the table. She eyed the riches, but not out of lust. The village was wealthy, which no one on the outside would know. Whatever else they may be capable of, the bear shifters of the Artos Clan were perfectly well off.

“What happened, Drew? Why are ye no longer with my father?” Alisa asked.

Drew hung his head. “Lass, he discovered what we are. We had no choice but to reveal ourselves. Perhaps you don’t remember, but about seven or eight years ago, his life came under threat by a local warlord who’d thought it would be funny to kill a chieftain of a high Scottish clan.”

“I do remember. It was a frightening time … You were the ones who protected him, weren’t you?”

“Aye. He’d been forced to travel to Glasgow on a lordly matter and his carriage was waylaid outside Cumbernauld. I was there, as was Logan and several more of our kin. Your father greatly valued our skills on the battlefield, so he often kept us near. There were too many for us. The warlord was an upstart, but he was a bloodthirsty little man who did not die well.”

Drew’s face was tight and remorseful, as if the memory caused deep pain.

“We were forced to shift,” he said. “Your father’s men were outnumbered two to one. With our strength and mighty jaws, we gave those bastards a bloody good go. We saved your father, and he was very grateful, but he knew as well as we did we could never return to Castle MacGregor.”

“Why not?” Alisa said. “If he depended on you so much, why didnae he encourage you to stay?”

“Our presence would make him a target, which would in turn endanger your entire family. You must understand that throughout the centuries, whenever the outside world discovered what we are, there’s been bloodshed and strife without end. Human beings are not capable of accepting what they don’t understand, not unless they’re exceptional and have gathered to themselves love and compassion. Your father’s enemies would hunt us for sport, and then they’d go after him and everyone he loved. They’d call it devilry, witchcraft, and not a soul alive would disagree with them.

Alisa shook her head. Sudden tears sprung up, though she fought to keep them from falling.

“His enemies are after him now,” she said.

“Aye, it would appear so.”

“Where is he? The first of your kind? Where are his bones?”

Drew shrugged. “Plundered long ago. He made no secret of his nature, and it cost him everything in the end. A lesson for us all.”

“What should I do, Drew? How can I keep everyone safe from harm?”

He set the torch in a nearby sconce and dug around on the table for a short sword and glinting bronze shield. Handing them to her and gaining a look of caution, he said, “If I were you, lass, I’d learn to fight.”

Chapter Five

Logan finally woke up four days later, by which time Alisa had already begun learning the warrior ways of Clan Artos. She was neither strong nor sure-footed, but she was a quick study, and her father had insisted on grace and balance training, which meant she had more control over his muscles than most beginners. She dueled with Drew in the hemlock beside the healer woman’s peat house.

“Watch yer feet, girl!” Drew bellowed. “If I can catch ye on your heels so easily then so can Campbell assassins!”

He swung at her right guard, and though she managed to block the attack, she slipped on the grass and crashed down on her rear end.

“Ouch!” she said.

“What did I tell ye? Yer footing is everything, lass.”

Alisa scowled at Drew and rubbed her sore spot. The morning was crisp and bright with a nip in the air that seemed to make the world come alive. A light snow had fallen the night before, and the ground was still wet where the majority had melted. Alisa climbed to her feet and lifted her sword in an initiation of the guarding stance Drew had taught her.

“Again,” she said.

“No, lass, that’s enough for today.”

“Again!”

“You’ve collected enough bruises already. We must bend and remold the body, but we mustnae—”

Alisa attacked at full force. She caught drew off guard and managed to drop the sword from his hand with one swift blow. Grinning, she drove her sword into the ground and heaved an exhausted sigh.

“I cannae help my father if I cannae fight,” she said.

“You’ll learn to fight,” said Drew. “You’ve got to give the training time. Now do me a favor and rest a while.”

His eyes locked with something over her shoulder and he grinned. Alisa turned and spotted Logan leaning against the house with his arms folded. He was smiling at her, though he still looked pale and weak. Honestly, as close as he’d come to death, it was surprising he’d managed to get out of bed.

“Logan,” Alisa said.

“Ye look good with a sword,” he said. “Ye’d have made a fierce shield maiden.”

Alisa blushed.

“Good to see ye up and about, lad,” said Drew. “If young Miss MacGregor hadn’t been there, ye’d be singing with the angels.”

Logan nodded. “I know. The healer told me everything. I think I owe you my life, Alisa.”

Despite herself, she giggled. “Think nothing of it. You did the same for me.”

The two men exchanged a glance, and then Drew cleared his throat and stooped to pick up their shields and practice swords.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” he said. “Think the missus may be needing me at home.”

As he passed Logan, he clapped the younger man on the shoulder and began whistling an old chanter tune. When he’d gone, Logan gestured to see Alisa’s sword and she brought it over. Taking it from her, he swung it a few times to feel it’s heft.

“It’s a fine blade,” he said.

“Aye.”

“Do you mean to help your father?”

“I do.”

“Alisa, ye cannae—”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it,” she said. “I’ve made up my mind and I’m learning to fight just like one of your warriors.”

“And what if they find you first? What if they’re still looking for you?”

She folded her arms and frowned. “You said you covered our tracks.”

“I did. But Clan Campbell are no fools, and neither are the men they pay to track people down. They have spies everywhere. Someone may have seen you. You need to stay indoors and keep to yourself. Try not to attract attention.”

“You think someone in this village is working for them?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “And until I do, I don’t—”

He clutched his shoulder and doubled over. Grunting from the pain, he leaned against the Pete house. Alisa touched his side and did her best to help hold his weight. The feel of his muscles under his shirt made her quiver in sudden excitement. Logan seemed to sense a certain electricity as well, because he lifted his head and locked eyes with her. There was a beauty there in that deep blue gaze, a kind of natural warmth and intensity that caused her body to respond. And there it was again, that sweet, musky scent. She’d noticed it on some of the other villagers as well, but for some reason, the way this man smelled attracted Alisa deeply and profoundly.

“Lass,” he said, “ye know all about me now. All about us. There’s something I haven’t told you.”

He moaned and fell to his knees.

“Logan, you’re still not recovered,” she said.

“No, it’s all right. I just need to rest. Lass, if ye could help me back to bed.”

She supported him as he climbed to his feet. Allowing him to drape his arm over her shoulders, she bore his weight and walked him back inside.

“You’re a good woman. A good woman,” he said.

She helped him into bed and poured a fresh cup of water from the pitcher on the small cupboard by the fire pit. He drank deeply and closed his eyes a few moments, telling her he felt better and urging her to sit.

“Lass,” he said, “my people are noble and strange. When we form relationships with others, they often last a very long time, and the bond that can form is often strong and difficult to break.”

“Why are ye trying to tell me, Logan?” she asked.

He hesitated, put a hand over hers. The touch was electrifying. She felt hot all over and found herself gazing into his eyes.

“Lass,” Logan said, “have ye noticed anything different about me? About the way I…?”

“Smell?”

He nodded. “So it’s true. We’re bonded.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“A shifter, when he meets his bond-mate, the soul he’s meant to spend the rest of his life with, there’s often a kind of unexplained spiritual attraction that manifests itself as...”

She drew a hand to her mouth. “The smell.”

He sat up with effort, leaned in and gently placed his hand on her cheek. “It’s the way we Artos folk can draw to us the purest of spirits. It’s means you’re a good human being, Alisa MacGreggor, an eternal soul that’s lived a hundred lives of worth and honest deeds. Yer meant to be mine, lass, and I am meant to be yours.”

She wanted to argue, to deny what he was telling her. Nobody had ever spoken to her like this before, said the things he was saying. Yet though his words seemed strange they felt true, and in an instant of dawning clarity she realized her spirit was far older and wiser than the eighteen years she’d lived on earth. The deeper things, those unspoken truths, they dawned on her, and she understood Logan Allaway was the man she’d been waiting for her entire life.

He said nothing to her as he leaned in for a kiss. Love and heat flooded her being, and her body awoke to the possibilities of his touch. He pulled her into bed with him, and as they cradled each other and continued to kiss, it seemed to her she’d known him her entire life. He grinned at her and slipped his hand up her thigh, under her dress, pressing his skilled fingers lightly against her, rubbing gently and filling her with a hot, urgent longing. She could feel it as his arousal began to take root, and he rubbed the length of himself against her as he stripped her dress off, kissing her wildly, passionately. She tried to be careful of his arm, but she had wanted him for so long that they were losing all sense of propriety.

“Aren't we supposed to wait for-”

“Shhh,” Logan said, pressing his hot mouth over hers and maneuvering himself between her legs, pressing tantalizingly against her middle.

She moaned as he kissed her breasts, and gasped when he pushed his cock deep inside of her. She buckled against his strong body, as her entire being was filled with pleasure. He was still somewhat weak, and his love brought a tenderness to their lovemaking that sent pulses of heat all through her. He trailed his tongue against her neck as he pushed fully inside of her and groaned when she sighed, her hair falling in front of her face. He brushed it away and they kissed as he stuffed himself in and out of her gently, until she was so overwhelmed that she closed her eyes and felt herself coming against him.

Her climax milked a sweet, hot explosion from deep in his loins, and he gripped her hard as they came together, their bodies in unison.

They made love so intensely, that rather than hurting the man, Alisa knew she’d performed an act of incredible healing.

Chapter Six

The alarm went up in the middle of the night. The clanging of a heavy bell woke Alisa from her deep slumber, and she felt Logan shift beside her in the darkness.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Attack. Get yer clothes on. And fetch yer sword while you’re at it.”

They scrambled from bed and Alisa slipped into her dress. Hefting her sword from the dirt floor, she felt around for Logan and followed him to the door.

“Quietly,” he said and then opened the door a crack to peer out. The bell suddenly cut out, and a stifled cry could be heard. Silence for a few moments, then a battle cry went up and clashing steel rent the night. Logan closed the door and uttered a curse.

“It’s Campbell. They must’ve tracked you, just like I feared,” he said.

“What do we do?”

“I’m no good for a fight, not in this condition. And you—”

“I can handle myself.”

He was reluctant to responds, but he must’ve realized she stood more chance against Campbell’s assassins than he did.

“I cannae tell how many there are,” he said. “Knowing these bastards, they brought every last man. We’ve thirty warriors, but they might have twice that number.”

“But your men can shift.”

“Aye. And if I’m not too much mistaken…”

A deep, terrifying roar filled the night. Someone screamed, and the clashing sounds of battle intensified.

“Let me go out there, Logan,” Alisa said. “I’ve learned so much. I’ve got to be able to hold my own against Clan Campbell. Too much is at stake.”

Logan hesitated.

“This is something I have to do, man, get out of the way!” she said.

Logan laughed at her, but nevertheless stepped aside. As she opened the door and stepped out, he gripped her shoulder and looked her in the eye, the pale moonlight glinting in his caring, gorgeous eyes.

“Be careful, Alisa. You’ve become … special to me. I know we’ve not know each other long, but I think you understand just as I do, that you and I…”

“Are meant to be together.”

He nodded.

“I … I do, Logan. I dinnae know how, but somehow it seems I must’ve always known. I’ll be careful. This is something I have to do.”

He nodded. “You need to protect yer own. It’s what makes you the incredible soul you are.”

He leaned in and kissed her, and then he told her to go defend the village. She sprinted from the peat house and headed for the sounds of battle. Rounding a livestock pen, she spotted the Artos warriors clashing with a number of soldiers and assassins more numerous than Logan had anticipated. Drew was at the fore of it, his broadsword flashing against a backdrop of burning fires and fallen men. He was surrounded by Artos warriors, all of whom had shifted and were swiping and snarling at their foes. The bear men were not as large as Logan, though they were nevertheless fearsome and terrible to behold. Many of Clan Campbell’s men fled as claws and teeth ripped through cartilage and tore flesh from bone. But the rest seemed eager for the fight, and if Alisa didn’t know better, she’d say they had the training and discipline of royal soldiers.

  Drew and his bear men were holding their own, but they were wildly outnumbered, and Alisa knew if she was going to help she had better do it soon. Taking a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, she let out as fierce a battle cry as she was capable of and stormed into the thick of battle.

One of the assassins spotted her instantly, and he rounded on her with a blunt axe. Alisa shifted to the left and allowed his swing to pass beside her, then she set her feet and struck at his flank. The assassin swiped the blow away and brought the axe down, angling for her head. She panicked for a moment, then remembered Drew’s admonishments and allowed her feet to sink into the grass and bear her weight as she brought her sword up to block. The blow sent shockwaves of pain through her hands and up her arms, but her block held, and the assassin was momentarily caught off guard. She saw her opening and quickly drove her sword through his chest. He screamed and dropped to the ground.

Alisa stared at him, attempting to comprehend what it was she’d just done. She felt cold and numb, but also relieved and alive. In an instant of dawning clarity, she recognized her own power and knew as long as she lived, her family and Clan must be kept safe.

She glanced at Drew and his bear men. Clan Campbell had managed to push them back, which meant they were perhaps only minutes away from being completely overwhelmed. Why had they thrown so many men at this small village? Had they really expected it to be so difficult getting to her?

She headed for their flank and snuck in at their rear. When Drew noticed she was standing amongst them, sword angled for the coming attack, he finished off the soldier he’d engaged with a furry of strikes and gashes, and then he bellowed, “What in the unholy tortures of hell are ye doing here, lass?”

“I’ve come to help. I’m your soldier now.”

“You aren’t anything, girlie, not while I have anything to—”

An assassin, larger and faster than the others, broke through their defenses and attacked Drew at full force. A shifter snapped his jaws over his leg, but the man bore it and brought a mighty blow down on the shifter’s head. The great bear howled in agony, and then he roll over and began shifting back into a man. The assassin redoubled his efforts and slammed into Drew with enough force to knock him off his feet. Without hesitation, Alisa bounded in and got between them. She swung her sword and hit the man at his flank. He twisted away and escaped the worst of it, but he screamed and stumbled and touched himself to see she’d drawn blood.

The assassin snarled at her.

“You bitch!” he shouted.

He drew a second smaller blade from his belt, flipped it up and caught it in an underhanded grip.

“You’ll pay for that, lass. By gods, ye will,” he said, and screamed in on her like a vicious beast.

Alisa brought up her block, but she moved too slow and his heavy, bone-shattering strike flung the sword from her hand. Drew roared a challenge. He attacked with everything he had, but the assassin had gone mad with rage, and he knocked the old warrior aside and plunged his sword through his heart.

“No!” Alisa screamed.

Drew screamed as the sword slid in, and again when it slid out. The strangest look of confusion came over him for a moment, then his face relaxed as the life left his body. Alisa leapt for her sword. She threw up a block just as the assassin’s blade came down on her. The sheer, stinging force of it nearly nocked it from her hands again, but her grip held and she spun and struck out for the back of his leg. He pivoted and let her blade pass beside him. The assassin kneed her in the chest and sent her onto her back. He cackled like a madman, then he drew his sword behind his head and made ready to deliver the killing blow.

A mighty roar caught him off guard and he looked up only moments before a massive black bear with huge claws came down on top of him. Logan tore into him with a kind of fervent, mindless abandon that terrified Alisa and shook her to the core. Her attacker did not die well, yet even in victory, Logan had clearly pushed himself too far, and he slumped to the side and his massive furred body shrunk and molted, leaving him trembling in a pile of fur as the sounds of battle lessened and became a call for retreat.

Somehow, the Artos Clan had fought them off. It must’ve been the sight of poor drew falling to his death, or maybe even the desperate and courageous attack Logan had managed to mount.  Clan Campbell scrambled from the village, but few actually managed to escape. The Artos warriors chased after them. Alisa rushed to Logan’s side and lifted him into her arms.

“Are you all right, love?” she said. “Ye didnae have to rescue me.”

He smiled at her. “Like hell I didn’t. You’re nothing but trouble, Alisa MacGregor.”

She cradled him to her chest and gave him a grin. “Would ye have it another other way, my dear?”

“Cannae say for sure yet. I’ve still not gotten to know ye as well as I’d like. But there’s time for that, isn’t there?”

“Aye, there is.”

“I’m sorry ye had to see that side of me, lass,” Logan said. “There were so many of them. They must’ve known what we can do.”

A few feet away, one of the fallen assassins chortled and drew breath in a harsh and ragged manner.

“Everyone knows now, demon,” he said. “You and your kind will never be safe again.”

Red hot, bilious anger flooded and twisted her insides, and she gently lay Logan on his back and crawled over to the fallen assassin. She set her knee to the large wound in his stomach and pressed. The assassin howled in agony.

“How did you know?” she said. “Tell me and I will make it quick.”

“Your little adventure with the wolves!” he spat. “You were ne alone in the woods that day!”

“Someone saw?”

“They’d been tracking you for miles. Ye didn’t really think ye’d escape so easily, did ye? None of you is safe. We will pick you off one by one!”

Alisa put more weight on his wound, but she’d lied when she said she’d kill him. The assassin screamed, but then his face went pale and he passed out from the pain. Alisa crawled back over to Logan.

“Did ye hear that, love?” she asked.

“Aye. We weren’t as careful as we needed to be. You know what this means.”

Alisa nodded. It was time to go back home.

* * * * *

She and the entirety of Clan Artos arrived at Castle MacGregor three days after setting out from the villiage. The shifters had left behind all of their possessions, though the majority of them had opted to burn everything before they left. The castle’s portcullis raised as they streamed over the draw bridge, the October sun high above bright and warm. Alisa’s father greeted them with a cadre of soldiers, and so overjoyed was he to see her alive he broke into sobbing tears and hugged her tightly.

“Daughter! Oh lord above, it’s a miracle!” he wept.

“No miracle, father. Just these fine people. And Logan.”

He pulled away and spotted Logan helping a family of three with their overladen cart.

“Allaway,” the chieftain said. “So you know about Clan Artos. You know what they can do.”

“Aye, father, I do.”

“And tell me, dear,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “is he half as dashing as they say?”

Alisa blushed and her father pulled her in for another hug. How was it fathers always knew? Far from feeling embarrassed, though, the warmth and love of home filled her spirit and nearly brought her to tears. She’s thought she’d never see any of them again. How pleasantly surprising to have been wrong.

“Come see your mother and daughters, Alisa,” he said. “They’ll not believe it till they’ve seen it with their own eyes.”

“Father, we must prepare. Clan Campbell won’t rest after only one defeat.”

His eyes hardened, yet his face still seemed full of joy and wonder. “Dinnae you worry about Clan Campbell, daughter. Now that I’ve got you back, and since the fine, proud warriors of Artos are once again at my side, there’s nothing we can’t do together.”

“I hope you’re right,” Alisa said.

“I am. Whatever comes, whatever dangers and threats that besiege us, we will weather the storm as we always have. Together.”

He pinched her arm and winked, and then he moved off to give Logan a hard slap on the back. When he spotted the chieftain, Logan’s face lit up, and the two men embraced like long lost friends. Alisa watched them and smiled in wonder, thinking she was so lucky, despite the uncertainties of tomorrow. As she stood there, the village’s old medicine woman approached and handed her a cup of water. Alisa thanked the woman for it, and told her how frightfully thirsty she was.

“I thought ye might be,” the healer said. “You’ve got to keep up your strength, deary. All these people are depending on you, whether they realize it or not.”

Alisa drank and felt the cool, clear liquid restore a measure of strength. Sighing contentedly, she handed the cup back.

“It’s funny, but I never realized how much I love this old castle,” she said.

“Family has a way of drawing us to the best of things. Speaking of which, deary, have you been feeling ill in recent days? Perhaps a wee bit sick in the morning?”

“No,” Alisa said, surprised by the question.

The old woman grinned. “Well ye may, though it’s certainly no cause for concern.”

“What do you—”

Instant realization dawned, and she clutched her abdomen and felt a swell of joy deep inside her stomach.

“You mean I’m pregnant?” she said.

“I do, lass. Congratulations. May you bear him many sons.”

“But will … will the baby…”

“It will be a shifter,” the old woman said. “A mighty one at that, as far as I can tell. The future shall be bright for you indeed.”

Alisa gazed lovingly at Logan and her father. The villagers of Clan Artos streamed into her castle, her home, the only place she could think of to raise a beautiful, magical family. There was nothing they could not do together. For them, a life of love would be a life of strength.

END

DRAGON PRINCE

The couples whirled around Kareena like birds in flight. The darkness of the men’s tartans set a bold contrast against the soft pastels of the women’s silken skirts. Their colours filled her eyes and she felt a longing that she could not describe.

She blinked once and suddenly she found herself standing in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by dancing couples, blocking their path. Kareena tried to move out of the way. She ducked and dived but she could not seem to find her way out. She tried to speak but she realized immediately that no one could hear her. She stood still and watched. Everything was moving through her as though she were a phantom examining a world she was no longer a part of.

“I am here,” she said to the passing couples, but her words fell on deaf ears.

Slowly the couples around her started to blur, until they became specks of diamonds that were carried away with the wind. Kareena focused her eyes and found herself standing on the musky earth of the forests just outside Northwick castle. She turned her head to the right and caught a pair of large, warm brown eyes staring back at her under the sun’s dewy spotlight.

Its skin was the color of a deep forest green, spotted with deep gold markings on either side of its sleek but muscular body. Its appearance was more majestic than any painting of a dragon she had ever seen before. Kareena tried to move closer so she could better admire the dragon, but the moment she took her first step, the dragon dissolved into silver mist and morning dew.

“Wait…” Kareena tried to call out.

But the dragon was already gone.

Chapter One

 

“Where have you been lass?” Meghan’s voice was gentle but impatient.

“I’m sorry,” Kareena replied immediately. “I… had a bad night.”

“Did ye have the dream again?” Meghan asked with a shrewd glance in Kareena’s direction.

“Aye, but it was different this time. The dragon did not show up until the very end.”

“Hmm,” Meghan’s bright brown eyes seemed to grow softer as she pondered over Kareena’s recurring dream. “Perhaps it is a sign of things to come.”

“What kind of things?” Kareena asked.

“I suppose we shall have to wait and see,” Meghan replied as she ran a hand through her silver-grey hair. “Now pass me the sage.”

Kareena suppressed a smile and did as she was told. Meghan was understanding and kind but she was also extremely methodical and that made her impatient. As she got to work on her latest remedy, Kareena moved to the herb cupboard and started to tidy it. She was half way done when she heard steps on the cold stone floors. A moment later, the large wooden door was pushed open and Lady McNeil stepped through. Kareena felt tension engulf her immediately, but she pushed it aside and turned around to face her stepmother.

“Good morning my Lady,” Kareena said with a well-practiced curtsy as Meghan mimicked her movement.

Lady Etaine McNeil was a beautiful woman. She was five and forty but youth still clung to her features. Her eyes were a mixture of blue and brown, and her hair was an uninterrupted gold that fell to her lower back in waves. She turned her thickly lashed eyes onto Kareena with an expression of tolerant distaste.

“Ye look worn this morning Kareena,” Lady McNeil said with a smile that did not reach her eyes.

“’Twas a hard night is all,” Kareena replied.

“Take care to rest yourself. Your looks will abandon you soon enough.”

Kareena bit back her retort and nodded her head in acquiescence. Lady McNeil turned her head slowly to Meghan. “I will need a new batch of your skin remedy,” she said delicately.

Meghan nodded curtly. “I shall begin now.”

Lady McNeil’s eyebrows rose suddenly as though she had just had a brilliant notion. “Perhaps it would be better if Kareena were to make the remedy. She must learn if she is to be a healer.”

“If that is what you desire,” Kareena replied trying to be agreeable.

“Tis. I shall expect you to deliver the finished remedy to my bedchamber,” Lady McNeil said, her tone betraying a threat.

Kareena bowed her head in acceptance. Lady McNeil nodded and walked to the door with a flick of her skirts. She was on the threshold when she turned her head back and called out Kareena’s name.

“Aye?” Kareena replied looking up.

“Lord McNeil is hosting Royce McDougal of clan McDougal tonight,” she said with a smile that Kareena did not understand.

“Aye, I know,” Kareena replied. “I have made preparations for the supper in his honour.”

“And I am grateful, but you will not attend the supper tonight.”

Kareena blinked once. “I don’t understand, my father –

“Your father has changed his mind,” Lady McNeil went on smoothly pretending as though Kareena had never spoken. “You will be absent this night.”

Kareena felt her body grow cold with anger. “Why?” she asked, her voice raised louder than she had intended.

Lady McNeil’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “Because it is no place for a bastard.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared through the door. Once her footsteps had sung its last echo, Kareena turned to Meghan trying to control the frustration coursing through her.

“She can’t do this to me,” Kareena replied.

“I agree,” Meghan said coming forward and putting a hand on Kareena’s shoulder. “You must speak to your father.”

Kareena nodded. “Aye… of course. He doesn’t know of this. If he did, he would never have allowed her to bar me from the feast tonight.”

Meghan smiled reassuringly at her. “Aye, now there’s a smart lass. Don’t you worry.”

Kareena sighed and sunk down onto one of the crooked wooden chairs that surrounded the centre table. “I wish she didn’t hate me so much.”

“Tis not you she hates lass,” Meghan said comfortingly. “’Twas your mother. It does not help that you inherited her fiery red hair and her sky-blue eyes. Except for the sharp nose and freckles you are the very image of your mother.”

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” Kareena admitted out loud. “If that would make her hate me less.”

Meghan’s eyes grew soft with sympathy. “Turn your mind from such thoughts lass. It wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“I know,” Kareena said with a sigh. “She will never be my mother or my friend. But it does not matter, as long as I have my father.”

 

Chapter Two

 

Kareena walked down the long, narrow corridors of Northwick Castle. Light streamed in through the slitted windows creating intricate patterns of light as they fell onto the burnished grey stone floors. When she was a child, she used to hop between the little spades of light, making sure to step only on the shadows. She had been a lonely child and the castle had been her one constant playmate.

Kareena turned the corner into another corridor; this one was broader than the last. At its end was a large circular recess with a door at its centre. It was flanked by the coat of arms of clan McNeil. It depicted an eagle in flight, its prey clutched firmly in its steely talons. Kareena knocked hard and she was greeted a moment later with a gruff ‘enter’.

“Father?” Kareena asked as she stepped inside.

Her father was an impressive man. He was well past six feet tall with large broad shoulders that made him look much taller. He had a head of dark curly hair and a full beard that had streaks of grey running through it. His freckles were barely visible anymore.

“Kareena,” Lord McNeil greeted quietly. His chamber was a large one, but Kareena knew he liked to sit by the fire that rested just below a series of arched windows that gave the solar its spectacular brightness. She moved towards the hearth and sat down just as she used to do when she was a little girl.

“What brings you here my bonnie lass?” Lord McNeil asked softly.

Kareena had learnt early on that her father had two voices. One was loud and booming and was used in public and at clan gatherings. The other was soft and quiet and used only in private with his wife and children.

“I came to ask you about something father,” Kareena began cautiously.

“Aye,” Lord McNeil nodded. “And what is that?”

“The feast tonight…” Kareena said trailing off, feeling a sudden panic engulf her.

“Aye?”

“Lady McNeil says I am not to be present,” Kareena forced herself to continue. “But… I cannot believe that you would have agreed to that?”

His eyes dimmed considerably and he pursed up his lips. Kareena knew immediately that he had in fact agreed to just that. She felt her stomach plummet as disappointment, hurt and rejection struggled over dominancy.

“You… did agree,” Kareena said before he could speak.

“Don’t turn your eyes from me lass,” Lord McNeil said as he reached for her chin and pushed it up to meet his face. “It is an unpleasant thing… but…”

He trailed off, leaving Kareena feeling worse than before. “What… exactly is an unpleasant thing?” Kareena asked once she had processed her father’s words. “My presence at the feast tonight or my presence in general?”

Lord McNeil looked taken back. “That is not –

“Tis true then,” Kareena interrupted him as she stood abruptly. “You are ashamed of me.”

“No of course not, I –

“I was a fool to think a Lord could love his bastard child,” Kareena said as she walked to the door. She felt her father rise but he did not move to follow her. She turned at the threshold of the door and curtsied formally. “Thank you for the audience my Lord,” she said weakly before she turned and walked out.

 

Chapter Three

 

There were always people milling about the stables but horses were always being taken out to ride. No one took any notice of Kareena as she slipped in and found Frazier in his stall munching on a bale of hay. The feast was only a few hours away and Kareena did not wish to be anywhere near the castle when it took place. 

“Come on boy,” she whispered into his ear as she stroked his chestnut brown muzzle. “Let’s run.”

Minutes later, she and Frazier were flying under the castle’s keep, through the gates and out into the open air of the highlands. The moment they had cleared the castle’s shadow, Kareena breathing came easier and her chest felt considerably lighter. She slowed Frazier to an easy gallop as she steered him towards the forests that clan McNeil shared with clan Maclver. It was a large, wild expanse of forest that hugged the Elsick Mounth. 

“Let’s ride through,” Kareena whispered to Frazier. He whinnied as though he was answering back and a moment later they sped into the forests.

Once they were surrounded by trees and nothing else, Kareena slowed Frazier down to a trot. They moved through the forest in calm as she took in the earthy breeze that ruffled through her hair.

“Things are so much easier here Frazier,” Kareena said softly looking up towards the large cracks in the forest’s canopy. The light streaming in was warm; it touched her face gently so that she didn’t need to shield her eyes from the brightness. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

She dismounted and let Frazier graze around at his leisure. She picked up her skirts and explored the little clearing they found themselves in. She recognized many of the herbs that Meghan used in her remedies and unconsciously she started plucking off fresh stems and dropping them into the tired sack that hung down Frazier’s side.

She immersed herself in the forest, so much so that she didn’t even realize that the sun was slowly setting and darkness was settling over the highlands. Her thoughts became abstract until she was no longer thinking of her father or the feast taking place at the castle that very minute. Even after night had finally come in, Kareena refused to go back to the castle. A small part of her wondered if anyone would even notice. Suddenly she heard the sharp crack of a tree branch a few feet away. Kareena jumped back with a gasp caught in her throat. Frazier raised his large head for a moment and then went back to grazing.

Kareena looked around searchingly and her eyes caught a flurry of movement not far from where she stood. She rushed forward not even considering the possibility that the animal might be a dangerous one. She ran forward and immediately the animal camouflaged behind the thicket of trees took off in the opposite direction. Kareena felt a beat of shock as she realized that it was a dragon. Even in darkness she could tell it looked eerily like the dragon in her dreams. Dragons were increasingly rare in the Kinross lands. She rushed towards Frazier and mounted him in one swift move. They raced through the forest after the dragon.

The dragon darted right, down a steep slope of earth, fallen branches and dried leaves leaving streaks of motion in its wake. Kareena urged Frazier downwards but the horse seemed reluctant. “It’s ok,” Kareena said, rubbing Frazier’s neck comfortingly. “Come on boy, you can do it.”

After some coaxing, Frazier managed to sidle down the slope, landing with a quick finish onto flat surface again. Kareena spurred him forward with a gentle nudge, afraid that she had lost the dragon for good. The animal had become something of a recent legend in the territory of Kinross. It was a large beast and her father and his clan had spent nigh on seven years since it was first spotted, trying to hunt it. The scales of the dragon were said to give a king luck, and its meat would provide strength for any army. The dragon had displayed both intellect and resilience, evading capture at every turn.

This was not the reason that Kareena pursued the animal however. What propelled her forward were her murky dreams that stayed with her even after she had woken. She dismounted and walked down. Hearing a rustle of noise, Kareena took care to move carefully and quietly. She stepped between two trees and caught sight of a thin stream just ahead of her. The dragon was standing on the opposite side of the stream, drinking water. Kareena felt as though she had experienced the same moment before.

Without thinking, she stepped between the two trees and out into the open. The dragon raised its majestic head and its large fiery eyes fell on her. The moon hung, full and bright in the sky above them. It illuminated everything it touched with its sparse silver rays. Kareena held her breath as the dragon stared at her with intense concentration. A shiver ran down her back as realized that its gaze was almost… human. Kareena stepped forward cautiously but the dragon did not fly away as she had expected. The creature stood there, proud and tall, as though it were waiting for her.

“What are you?” Kareena asked under her breath as she continued to edge closer.

She got to the edge of the stream. There was only the thin trickle of water that stood between them. If Kareena reached out, she would be able to touch the dragon. It’s scales were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. They were illuminating gleams of glassy silve. Its eyes were still trained on her as though it recognized her somehow.

“Am I dreaming?” Kareena wondered aloud.

The dragon moved its head infinitesimally as though it was answering her question. Kareena gave a start of surprise but she didn’t back away. “No wonder no one’s been able to catch you yet,” she said softly. The dragon continued to look at her with eyes that were aware and keenly observant. Consumed by the magic of the moment, Kareena felt herself grow brave. She reached up, moving her hand slowly towards the dragon’s crown. Again she wondered if the animal would bolt suddenly, but it remained stationary. She sucked in her breath as she touched the dragon’s gleaming coat. It was tough but there was also a sinewy softness there.

Suddenly, the dragon transformed before her eyes, and a naked human man emerged. Kareena stood in shock as the most beautiful man she had ever seen stepped toward her. His muscles gleamed like the dragon’s and his eyes continued to look at her with fire. As if in a trance, Kareena stepped toward him feeling his magnetic pull.

He reached towards her and began stroking her face.

“Is it really you?” he asked.

The commanding sound of his voice caused Kareena’s insides to stir. She was about to speak when Frazier’s frantic whinny startled her out of her reverie. She jumped back, breaking contact with the man. He leapt back as well and with one last look in her direction, he transformed into a dragon and flew off into the forest. It took only a few short seconds for Kareena to lose his image in the darkness.

She stood there by the tiny stream trying to process the strange moment, but it did not seem to matter how long she stood there. It didn’t feel any less strange. Finally she turned away and walked back to where Frazier waited patiently for her. She mounted him distractedly and rode back to the castle, with her thoughts running in chaotic circles.

Kareena could hear the music before she entered the castle. It rang through the castle’s stonewalls, echoing down its long hallways. Kareena knew the castle well, she slipped in through one of the lesser-known corridors and within moments she was in the main hall where most of the clan’s banquets and feasts were held. She stood behind one of the large stone pillars that circled the hall. 

Her father sat on the raised dais, behind a long table filled with several large cuts of meat. He was dressed in his finest red tartan and grey furs. To his left sat Lady McNeil. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, fastened by Scottish pearls that seemed to catch the light with every turn of her head. She was dressed in crimson silks and white furs. Next to her sat Lady Saraid, Kareena’s older half sister. She had her mother’s coloring without any of the beauty. Kareena had admired her once, before Saraid’s disdain for her had pushed them apart.

Kareena watched as her father took a great gulp of wine and turned to the man sitting on his right. Royce McDougal was younger and shorter than Kareena had expected. He did not look like a clan chief’s son, but he seemed to have a knack for making people smile. He bowed graciously as he asked Saraid to dance, making her glow with pleasure while their father beamed in satisfaction. As Saraid and Royce McDougal joined the other dancers in the centre of the hall, Kareena watched as her father and stepmother put their heads together, conversing in intimate whispers.

Standing there in the shadows, Kareena realized that that she would never be on the other side. She would never sit with the people she considered her family and share hushed conversations. She would never be invited to dance by a noble lord and she certainly would never be encouraged to do so. Her father had cast her into the shadows, making sure she would never truly be apart of his family.

“Is this what I want?” Kareena asked herself. “To stand on the edge, wishing to be included like a dog waiting for scraps?”

She stared at her father’s face, wondering if his love for her had always been an illusion, or if it was a fickle thing that existed only in the privacy of his own chamber. If that was the case, Kareena wanted no part of it. She turned from the scene and walked out of the hall. She didn’t stop until she had reached her bedchamber. When she walked in, she found that Meghan was there, waiting for her.

“Where have you been lass?” Meghan asked with concern.

“I was out riding,” Kareena replied. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to make sure… you weren’t too lonely,” Meghan said simply.

Kareena appreciated the sentiment but she hated the pity. “I’m fine Meghan,” she assured the older woman. “Truly.”

“Then what is that look in your eye?”

Kareena dropped her gaze, but she knew that little got past Meghan. “Tis nothing,” Kareena replied. “I have only made a decision this night.”

“Aye and pray what is it?”

Kareena looked up. “I’m leaving Northwick castle and Kinross territory. But most importantly, I am leaving clan McNeil.”

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Meghan tried to convince her to stay but Kareena could not be moved. There was a clarity attached to her decision and that gave her the confidence she needed to go through with it. The night of the feast had opened Kareena’s eyes to the reality of her life. She was the eternal outsider; whatever affection her father held for her was not strong enough to withstand her stepmother’s dislike.

“This is drastic,” Meghan fretted as she bustled about the apothecary throwing things into a large brown bag. “I shouldn’t be encouraging you.”

“And you haven’t,” Kareena said. “I’m leaving no matter what anyone says or does.”

“Does that include your father?”

“Aye,” Kareena nodded fervently.

“He’s not going to allow you to leave,” Meghan pointed out. “You are may be illegitimate, but you are still his daughter.”

“I am his daughter in private,” Kareena replied. “Tis not enough for me.”

“And you’re answer is to flee in the night?”

Kareena shook her head. “There is a party leaving the castle soon. They’re heading towards Aberdeenshire with a delivery of horses for Lord Maclver. I intend to be among them when they head out on the morrow.”

Meghan raised her eyebrows incredulously. “And how do you plan to escape notice?”

“I’ll be dressed as one of the stable boys,” Kareena replied with a confidence she did not feel.

“Tis a risky plan lass,” Meghan said with a shake of her head.

“Aye,” Kareena agreed. “But it’s my only way out.”

“And what do you intend to do once you’ve set off with the delivery party?”

“I’ll travel with them as far as the Elsick mounth. Just before they enter Aberdeenshire, I’ll slip off into the forests with Frasier, then I’ll ride South to one of the seaside villages and find work there as a healer.”

Meghan sighed deeply. “I don’t like it.”

“Aye I know,” Kareena said with a smile. “But I know I’m doing the right thing. I can feel it in my gut.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Meghan replied as the continued to bustle around the apothecary.

“What are you doing?” Kareena asked impatiently.

“If you really are going to do this you will need a few things,” Meghan said quickly as though she knew she was running out of time. “You are a talented healer, you will know what to do with the ingredients I have given you.” She handed Kareena the bag with a resigned air. “You will be able to collect a few things on your journey, especially if you’re travelling into the forests. But still, I will feel better knowing you have these with you.”

Kareena leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Meghan. “Thank you so much Meghan,” she said. “I’m going to miss you the most.”

Meghan laughed awkwardly and pulled away. She had never been good with open sentiment. “Just be safe.”

Kareena nodded. She picked up the bag and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Meghan called. “I have one more thing for you.”

“You’ve given me enough Meghan,” Kareena pointed out gratefully.

“Aye, but this one is the most important thing,” Meghan replied as she went to the cupboard and pulled out an old book whose covers looked worn and overly used.

“This book is for… whenever you need some drastic help,” Meghan said softly.

“Is it a book of remedies?” Kareena asked.

“It is,” Meghan nodded. “Tis a special book. Look to it for guidance but use your own knowledge and your instincts. You understand me?”

Kareena took the book gingerly and nodded. “Aye, I will. Thank you,” she said before leaving the apothecary for good.

Kareena was up before the sun the next day. It took her only a few hours to gather all her belongings. She wanted to travel as light as possible and that turned out to be easier than she had anticipated. Kareena stared down at her brown rucksack, amazed that nineteen years could be boiled down to a few measly possessions. Her mother had left her nothing in the way of a keepsake and she did not wish to take anything that belonged of her father. The only thing that she had that was precious to her was the book Meghan had given her.

In the privacy of her room, Kareena leafed through its yellowed pages. There were several recipes for remedies, many of which she recognized, but others were foreign to her. She didn’t have time to dwell on them however. She wrapped the book in one of underskirts and packed it away with the rest of her things. She had managed to bribe one of the younger stable boys into giving her his britches and shirt. She put them on and stared at herself in the grainy mirror in front of her.

Once she had thrown a coat over herself, she didn’t look quite like a girl, but she didn’t look like a man either. Her hair fell straight over her shoulders, a fiery red that was hard to hide. She found a thick piece of string, gathered her hair into a tight knot and tied it firmly. Then she added a lopsided hat that hid her bun and turned back to her reflection. Except for her sharp nose, her features were soft and decidedly feminine. She stepped towards her dead fireplace and grabbed a small handful of ash, which she proceeded to smear across her face in small strokes. She was subtle in her approach and by the time she was finished, she looked much less like herself.

With a sigh, she slung the bag over her shoulder and slipped out of her room without a backward glance. As she moved through the castle’s stonewalls, Kareena felt a small beat of sadness. She did have affection for the castle, it had served her imagination well and she was sad to leave it. Still, it was not her home, and now that she had become so painfully aware of it, Kareena knew that she could not stay.