Duncan pushed back his chair and eyed the council members with disgust.

“Where is the young woman?” the elder asked, his gnarled and wrinkled hands resting in front of him on the table.

“The lass is in a safe place,” Duncan replied.

“We sorely underestimated her power,” the elder confessed, testing the weight of each word. “The woman is a source of great power and needs to be well guarded and trained,” he said, not bothering to see if the other elders agreed.

“She will be, I assure ye. But nae with the council. She stays with me…and her handler,” he added.

“How do you two propose to keep such a powerful woman safe and out of the Order’s control?” he asked. There wasn’t a hint of malice in his voice. Duncan knew they were truly concerned about safeguarding the Seer’s gifts, but they also didn’t want to run the risk that she could change the timeline.

He ignored the question, deciding deflection was a safer route.

“None of ye have any idea how to help the lass,” Duncan said. “Ye never have. Hell, I’m nae certain any of us ever have. We are moving into uncharted territory that none of us ken anythin’ about. The safest place for the Seer—and her sister—is with LaFelle and myself.”

The council members bent and whispered among themselves. Duncan shifted his feet, growing more agitated and impatient with each passing minute. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t hear them; his genetically engineered hearing saw to that.

The oldest council member tapped his fingers against his chin, alternating between that and pulling his beard. “Commander MacKinnon, do you even comprehend the trouble you have put us all in?”

Duncan stared at the council members, unsure of what he was hearing. They were all on board with this plan when they first embarked on this treacherous journey so long ago. Yet now that Caitriona—and her sister—were more than they realized, they wanted to abort part of their plan and sequester the sisters in the council’s care. He recognized this for what it was: the council wanted the women close so they could track their progress, and more importantly, test their latent abilities. He shook his head, disgusted at this latest turn of events.

“The trouble I’ve put ye in?” he asked, incredulously. “These women are hunted. The Seer’s been tortured and nearly raped and ye have the balls to sit here and bemoan yer difficult decision of what to eat today?” He shook his head, disgusted with the men he once revered.

“How likely do ye think the women are going tae be if ye lock them away in a dark corner, poking and prodding them all day?” He laughed and leaned in close. “I hardly think they’ll be as willing as ye think them tae be, gentlemen.”

The council members began talking in excited whispers among themselves. Duncan shifted his weight, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword, a stance that to him was as natural as walking. He had dressed for the occasion, donning his clan tartan, crisply starched white button-up shirt, and tartan beret. He looked every part the dashing Scotsman, his Highland claymore swinging at his side.

The eldest of the clan members held his hand up to silence the others. “Are you and LaFelle equipped to manage the women’s training?” the eldest asked, his grey eyebrows thick and heavy, nearly meeting in the middle. His beard was grizzled and tough, grey hairs growing from his nose and ears.

“Castle Dunrobin in the Highlands of Scotland is well fortified,” he told the council members. “She and her sister can stay there. My sister will see tae their medical needs and LaFelle can assist and guide them with their training.”

“Yet you were unable to protect the Seer earlier at the castle, were you not?”

Duncan balled his hands into fists at the reminder that he’d been unable to protect the woman he loved. A slight tic in his jaw was the only evidence of his internal battle. “I have underestimated Caitriona’s determination tae leave. That willna happen again,” he stated, matter of fact.

“If she is unhappy at Castle Dunrobin, why would it make a difference if she stayed there or were to join us in New France? We can keep the women safe. The lands are heavily patrolled and we have many more technologies there that you are unable to provide at Castle Dunrobin. LaFelle shall accompany them. France is his homeland and he will be able to continue his work with Caitriona.”

Mine. Mine. Mine. The words thundered in his head. His palms grew clammy and his heart was thundering. He wasn’t going to lose Caitriona. If she was placed at the palace in France, he’d never see her. His duty was here in Scotland. Damnu! He had to bring this back around.

The council members pushed back their chairs and stood.

“With all due respect, Councilman Streip, where are ye going?”

“We are finished here,” the older man grumbled. “The matter is settled. You will return to your duties as captain of the starship and commander of the Templar army. Your services in this matter are concluded. We thank you for your service and completion of your mission.”

Duncan glared at Streip and the other council members. He was frustrated with their myopic view of the war and even more disgusted with the disdainful treatment they showed Caitriona. He wasn’t turning her over to them, but neither could he openly defy them. Fixing them all with one last glare, he turned and left the council chambers, nearly toppling Caitriona on his way out.

“What is it, Duncan?” she asked, concern etched in the furrow of her brow. “What happened in there?”

He ignored her questions. “Damnu!” he thundered, for not the first time that day. He stopped and pulled her to him, searching her eyes. “They will never see reason,” he told her. “They are so blinded by their own narcissistic, selfish…”

“Duncan, stop,” she pleaded. “You’re not making any sense.”

Taking a deep breath, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the outline of her features. “I’m taking ye home to Seattle, lass.”