Chapter Two
Diana’s heart pounded hard with her efforts. The months spent in the tower had weakened her.
The air was thick with the icy moisture. It clung in the back of her throat and made breathing difficult. If only she could drink it instead of drowning in it. She darted over the large rock marking the path she always took to the cave. She was so close.
The shuffle of footsteps sounded somewhere behind her.
The nearness of the man shot strength through her. She sprinted forward, her breath huffing in great white gasping puffs. Lightning flashed overhead and ignited the darkening world in a flicker of brightness.
She knew this land. She had the advantage.
The ground blurred before her, shadowed in the dark of the storm and by the speed of her haste. Hera raced at her side, sprinting with enviable ease.
Not just Hera. Zeus’ dark form ran on Diana’s other side. His approach had been so soundless, she had not even been aware of his arrival.
Relief loosed the grip on Diana’s chest. Zeus was safe.
The land fell away up ahead. A shortcut to avoid lost time and provide an opportunity to escape undetected. Diana was all too familiar with the drop. It would be the perfect place to lose him.
She did not hesitate and plunged over the shallow cliff to the rocks below. The wind whistled in her ears while her feet kicked at air. She hit the ground with a solid landing, as did her wolves beside her.
She’d done it often enough that she didn’t need the additional moment to recover. She sprang forward into a run once more through the heavy copse of trees lining the nearby shore.
She was so close.
Thunder growled from the heavens and set the land vibrating under her feet with its fury. No longer did the steps crunch through the forest behind her, nor were there the telltale snapping of twigs marking a pursuer. Her blood surged with victory.
She had lost him.
A high-pitched yelp cut through her moment of glory. Hera was no longer at her side. Diana skidded to a halt.
Zeus pranced beside Hera, his head turned back to the forest they’d run through.
Diana’s breath heaved from her in great gasps while her heart still raced on. She looked at the path they’d taken. The man had not appeared.
If they stayed there, it would not be long until he did.
Diana knelt beside Hera and began patting the damp fur for the injury. Diana’s leg muscles trembled and threatened to give out from beneath her. Her fingers moved with a frantic rush until they met a warm wetness.
She drew her hand back. Lightning streaked the sky and brought to light the crimson blood glistening on her hand. Hera’s wound would need to be examined.
“Can you walk?” she asked Hera and gently pushed at the large wolf to encourage her into a standing position.
Hera stood, ever the obedient one, and limped forward before giving a low whimper once more. The second attempt following the first was more than Diana could bear.
She rose to a standing position and scooped Hera into her arms with a hefting grunt. For a beast who ate small forest creatures, Hera certainly weighed a considerable amount.
The cave was not far. Diana could make it.
She put one foot in front of the other on shaking legs, all the while praying for the strength to make it without dropping Hera or revealing themselves to the man who chased them.
Everything about Diana was heavy and weary. Her arms, her legs, her cloak, Hera. A pebble landed atop her head and sent her pulse flying into a panic once more. It wasn’t until another hit her hand with a wet splat that she realized it was rain.
Her throat ached for her to stop and tilt her face to the sky and catch the droplets in her mouth, to slake the maddening thirst made all the more insufferable with her exertions.
Already they’d wasted too much time.
All around them, the forest popped with the large drops. Finally, at long last, the soggy undergrowth gave way to sand. She was near St. Agnes’ cave.
Relief lightened her burden and she managed to stagger the last few necessary steps to the mouth of the cave. A surreptitious glance behind her confirmed what she needed to know – the man was not there.
“We did it.” She grinned down at Zeus.
He did not look up at her, but instead raced into the cave and sat beside the small circle of stones Diana often used to start a fire. Always stoic. Always the fighter.
Lucky for Diana, she too was a fighter.
She wobbled the last few steps into the cave until she reached Zeus’ side where she carefully settled Hera to the sand and collapsed beside her. Her limbs were limp with fatigue. She wanted to lie down and remain there for the rest of her life.
But she could not.
Hera needed her.
Outside the mouth of the cave, the rain poured in a glittering waterfall, coming down with merciless force. The rain would be cold. Crisp. Refreshing. Diana gave a thick swallow.
Hera first.
Diana dragged herself to a sitting position and drew several dry sticks from a pile of tinder she’d placed there before being sent to the tower.
A couple strikes at the flint produced a fire. The cave immediately lit with the flames. She pulled her hood back and settled herself beside Hera. The wolf whimpered like an injured child and pushed her paw at Diana. The pale gray and white fur was streaked with the bright red blood of an injury.
Zeus growled, so suddenly and so ferociously, Diana startled and released Hera’s paw. She turned to admonish her overzealous protector when she caught his focused glare and froze.
“Ye’re no’ an easy woman to catch, Lady Diana.”
She spun around to the sound of the masculine voice and found the shadow of a man at the mouth of her cave. He stepped forward, into the wash of firelight. Rainwater dripped from his hair and shone over his clothing. His face was lined and serious, his look hard. Savage.
The Mackenzie man had found them.
Evander stared into the cave at his betrothed, who was bent over the wolf.
The black wolf’s growl snapped into a snarl. Behind Evander, a clap of thunder shuddered and lightning illuminated the cave in front of him.
And yet none of it garnered nearly as much of his attention as the woman he was supposed to marry. Lady Diana’s hair fell in a tangle of golden curls and waves around her face. Her brows were straight and stubbornly set over a pair of wide eyes. But what drew him most were her full, red lips. Her slender neck suggested she was not the large lass her hit had implied earlier. Merely one strong enough to survive the Highlands of Scotland.
“Do you mean for your stare to intimidate me? If so, I’ve had worse.” Diana turned her attention from him and prodded at the gray wolf’s paw. The wolf gave a whimper and lowered her head.
“Ye’re beautiful.” The words were out of Evander’s mouth before he could stop them.
The foolishness of his statement was echoed in her snorting scoff. “Winning me over with romance is as ridiculous as believing in the legend.”
“A legend about ye?” He spoke loud enough to be heard over the roar of rain.
She shot him an angry glare and resumed staring at the wolf’s paw. “I could have Zeus tear out your throat. I suggest you leave before I give the order.”
At the mention of his name, the great beast stalked forward and peeled his lips back from his fangs.
“And end up with another injured wolf?” he said. “Or dead.” He pulled the dirk from his boot and readied the weapon.
Aye, he’d wanted to keep his bride contented with her pets, but not at the expense of his own life.
Her head snapped up. “You said you were unarmed.”
“’Tis only a dirk.”
“It’s still a weapon. You’re armed.”
“Then I lied.”
She heaved an irritated sigh. “Is that really the best way to start a marriage?”
“Is having to chase down my bride?”
“I have no desire to marry you.” She shot him a defiant look. “Now give me your blade so I can help her. She’s got some wood buried in her paw.”
He held his ground. “I dinna want to marry ye either. And ye’re a fool if ye think I’ll be giving ye my blade. Call off yer hellhound and step aside. I’ll do it.”
“If you don’t want to marry me, why are you here?” Diana rose and propped a hand insolently on her hip.
“Because some of us put the needs of others before our own selfish intent.” His chest constricted with how bad those needs truly were.
“Zeus, enough.” The authority of her command rang out in the small cave.
The large black wolf stopped snarling and obediently sat. Those large golden eyes continued to watch Evander, unblinking and full of lethal promise.
“Give me your weapon.” Diana strode to the front of the cave with a bloody hand extended. The cloak she wore parted, revealing a ragged, overlarge dress.
“The day I give ye my dirk is the day I trust ye.” He made his way to the fallen wolf and moved around Diana to do so. “Show me where it is.”
She faltered. “How do I know you won’t try to kill me?”
“If I kill ye, I’ll no’ get yer dowry.” He squatted next to the gray wolf. Her head lifted and her body tensed. He quietly shushed the beast and drew a careful hand over her pelt. “I’m going to help ye,” he murmured in Gaelic. “I’ll be gentle with ye, aye?”
The creature turned a mournful gaze up at him, the deep brown eyes full of trust. He rubbed behind her ears and she bent her head toward him.
“What’s her name?” he asked Diana.
“Hera.”
“Zeus. Diana. Hera.” He bent his head to inspect the wound. Deep in her paw was a shard of narrow wood, too small to draw out with one’s fingers. “Ye’re named after mythology, but ye dinna believe in legends?”
He glanced up and found Diana anxiously watching him. She crossed her arms firmly over her chest and fidgeted where she stood several feet away. “Can I have your knife to do it myself?” The look she gave him was one of desperation. “Please.” She said it with the weighted importance of a word not said often. As if she expected miracles for finally stating it.
“Trust me.” He raised his brows at her. “I’ve done similar feats before on men in the battleground. I have dressing in my sporran. I’ll be gentle with her.” He pulled the small flask of whisky from his pack. “Ye can tell me about the legend while I work.”
“I don’t want to tell you about it.” She bit the words out.
“It’s preferable to the painful sounds of healing. And yer voice will be comforting for Hera.” He pulled the stopper from the flask. Diana eyed it greedily.
Her da had mentioned he’d not fed her or given her water in a day. Perhaps his plan might work after all.
But first, Evander would see if he could convince her to join him. He didn’t care for the scheme, but then he’d never been one for deception.
He poured a splash of clear liquid onto his dirk and over Hera’s wound. She yelped in pain. Zeus leapt to standing and cast an anxious glance at Diana, whose face crumpled with sympathetic agony, as if it were she who felt the sting of the alcohol on the wound.
“It’s the cave,” she said abruptly. “The legend is with the cave.”
“Tell me about it.” Evander lowered his head closer to the wound. Everything in him flinched from the task at hand, but it had to be done or the wolf might die from infection. He needed the distraction of the story as much as Diana.
Evander could clearly see the shard of wood now. “Forgive me, Hera.” He spoke softly in Gaelic and ran a soothing hand over her thick fur once more.
“A king’s daughter was foretold to be so beautiful, wars would be fought over her,” Diana said. “Her father demanded she be taken somewhere no one would find her and tasked a young page to bring her here.”
Evander said a silent prayer and set to work removing the splinter.
Diana sucked in a hard breath and continued on. “When the princess was of age, her father came for her, but the page, now a man himself, had fallen in love with the princess. He refused to let her go.”
She spoke rapidly, her words frenzied with her worry.
“Speak slowly, and in a soft voice.” Evander glanced at Hera. The wolf stayed quiet through his ministrations, her liquid gaze fixed on her mistress. “She’s listening.”
Diana’s face melted with affection for her pet. “The page refused to allow the king to take the princess, so the king stole her. She didn’t want to be married to another, for she loved the page. She ran and returned to the cave where her lover remained. When the king discovered this, he followed her and killed the page. Rather than be taken to a marriage she did not want, away from the one she loved, she thrust a blade into her heart and fell upon him in death.”
Evander caught the shard between the point of his blade and his thumb and carefully began to draw it out. Hera gave a sharp whine and Diana collapsed on her knees at her wolf’s side, running her hands over the white and gray muzzle.
“The wall is forever stained with their blood,” she said in a tight voice.
Evander freed the stubborn chunk of wood and gave the wound another splash of alcohol. He did the same to his own hands and dirk to clean them.
“Take a deep breath,” he said softly to Diana. “And try to be calm when ye speak, aye? The worst of it is done.”
Diana nodded and drew in a long, steadying breath. When she continued, her voice was softer, more even. “It is said if two people touch the bloodstain together, they will love each other for all time. The kind of love shared by the princess and the page. But they must do so of their own free will.”
Evander finished wrapping the wounded paw. “Ye did fine, Hera.” He spoke in Gaelic to her once more and stroked her fur. She pulled her head from Diana’s caress and nuzzled Evander’s knee.
Diana watched the exchange, incredulous. “My wolves don’t like anyone.”
Evander’s attention lingered on the woman he’d vowed to marry, finally seeing her closely for the first time. Her eyes were a unique color, pale as the sky in the center and rimmed in a darker, deeper blue. Beautiful.
He grinned. “They like me.” A low growl came from the front of the cave where Zeus sat. “Well, one of yer wolves does.”
She stared up at him silently, as if she didn’t know what to make of him. Perhaps now was the best time as any to encourage her to come with him.
“Touch the wall with me, Diana,” he said in the same gentle voice he’d used with Hera. “And come to Scotland to marry me.”