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Authors: Debbie Mazzuca

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“Are you not listening to me?”
“What? Nay, what did ye say?”
She huffed an irritated breath. “I said, I’ve decided to help Broderick court Fallyn.”
He snorted. “Ye doona ken how to woo. And besides that, why would ye want to help them?”
“Since I am a woman, I think I know better than you what a woman wants. And as for helping them, I can now see they’re in love. They just need a little push in the right direction.”
“No’ like any woman I’ve ever met,” he muttered under his breath. “Ye’d best be careful, Evangeline. When it comes to pushin’, ye have a tendency to shove.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean ye’re no’ verra subtle.”
“Not
that
. You said I’m not like any woman you’ve ever met.”
Oh, nay, he wasna goin’ there with her. She’d twist his words, and who knew where that would land him? He breathed a sigh of relief when Gabriel brought his steed alongside them.
“I’ve decided I’d best head for home instead of accompanying you to the Isles. I’m not certain Jorunn can handle the extra time it would add, nor for that matter if I can.”
He followed his friend’s gaze to Jorunn, who was being comforted by her lady’s maid. “Has she no’ stopped cryin’ since we left the Far North?”
“She has not stopped crying since after the ceremony ended.” Gabriel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’ve tried my best to comfort and reassure her, but I’m about at my wits’ end.”
Lachlan barely managed to suppress a shudder at the thought it could have been him married to the weeping lass.
Evangeline shot him a smug smile, obviously knowing exactly the direction his thoughts had taken. “King Gabriel, as your wife has been raised by King Magnus and his brothers, perhaps you’re being too gentle with her. A more forceful approach might be in order.”
“I suppose it can’t hurt. Nothing else has worked. Thank you, Evangeline, I shall give it a try.”
“Do ye have enough men to accompany ye?” Lachlan asked as Gabriel brought his steed around.
“Yes, we’ll be fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting of the Seelie Council. Hopefully it will be soon,” he added before he flew to his wife’s side. Gabriel’s deep voice rumbled over the swoosh of wings. Jorunn’s head snapped up as though she’d been slapped. She straightened upon her horse, then wiped her eyes and nodded. Gabriel sent a relieved smile in Lachlan and Evangeline’s direction.
“I’m waiting,” Evangeline said in a singsong voice.
“All right, lass, I bow to yer superior knowledge of females.”
“More.” She wiggled her fingers.
“I fear yer head will get bigger than it already is, but aye, I’m relieved to be wed to ye instead of the wee lass.” He spoke the truth, but couldn’t help but wonder if in the end Jorunn would’ve been the safer choice. But he was honest enough to admit he wanted no man, especially not Magnus, to have Evangeline.
She patted his hand. “Of course you are. For all your efforts to portray yourself as a fool, you really are an intelligent man.”
Mayhap he should’ve let Magnus wed her after all. “I hope I can live up to your high opinion of me, Evangeline,” he said dryly.
“I’m certain you will. Now ... what to do about Broderick and Fallyn?” Arms crossed, she tapped a finger to her lips, oblivious to his sarcasm.
He shook his head. “Since we approach the Isles, whatever scheme ye’re concoctin’ will have to wait. Broderick will be headin’ home, leavin’ me to deal with the three sisters.”
“You’re right, I suppose, but you don’t have to worry about Fallyn and her sisters. I will take care of them for you.”
His relief at not having to deal with the three women was tempered by the knowledge of who would be. “Ah, Evangeline, how exactly do ye propose to
deal
with them?” he asked as they skimmed over the treetops and glided over the sparkling azure waters to circle the palace before landing.
“You need not concern yourself with such trivial matters any longer. I am more than capable of seeing to this.”
Noting her happy and relaxed manner, a side of Evangeline he couldn’t recall seeing before, he didn’t wish to take away her pleasure, but he was confident the course of action he’d decided upon earlier was warranted if they were to have a good marriage. “That may be so, but you will inform me of yer plan of action before proceedin’.”
“But I ...” She stiffened in his arms, her voice trailing off.
Before he could question her, the reason for her reaction became apparent. Morfessa charged across the courtyard toward them, his black robes flapping with his long, angry strides.
“Doona fash yerself, Evie, I’ll take care of him,” he said, rubbing her arm.
Lachlan leapt from the steed, raising his arms to her. She met his gaze, worrying her bottom lip. He cursed the man who could make a woman of Evangeline’s strength cower. “What do ye want, Morfessa?” he asked, tucking her against his side while he stared down her father.
Morfessa’s long, angular face darkened with outrage. His black eyes raked his daughter before he brought his gaze back to Lachlan. “I needed to reassure myself that the rumors were false, Your Highness. Please tell me you weren’t so foolish as to wed ... her.”
Lachlan tightened his arm around Evangeline while his fingers gripped the hilt of his sword. Against his thigh, heat emitted from the blade. “Foolish, Morfessa? Nay, I’m far from foolish.”
The man practically sagged with relief, placing a trembling hand on his narrow chest. “I’m much—”
“I’d like to present ye to my wife, Morfessa. As queen of the Enchanted Isles, I expect ye to award her the respect she is due.”
“No.” He howled like a wounded animal, clasping his head between his hands. “What have you done? You have damned the Fae. You—”
Lachlan drew his sword.
“Lachlan, please. It doesn’t matter.” Evangeline placed her hand firmly on his chest.
He kissed the top of her head. “Aye, it does.” Pressing the point of his crimson blade to the wizard’s chest, he said, “Go back to Rohan before I have ye locked up fer castin’ aspersions against my wife.” Morfessa had done enough damage to Evangeline’s reputation. Lachlan didn’t wish to give him further opportunity to taint the opinion of the small crowd who gathered in the courtyard.
Her father stumbled back. “You don’t understand the power she wields. She uses her beauty to blind you to her evil. She will—”
“No’ another word out of ye. Guards!” he bellowed to four of his men who stood gaping with the rest of their audience.
Shooting one last desperate look in the direction of the approaching guards, Morfessa yelled, “You will regret this.” Then he disappeared.
Lachlan motioned for the bystanders—who gawked at Evangeline, whispering Lord knew what behind their hands—to disperse. Certain their censure was not lost on her, he said, “Doona worry, ’twill take time fer them to realize your father is a madmon and that they have nothin’ to fear from ye.”
With a brittle laugh, she raised her resigned gaze to his. “You’re wrong, Lachlan. They have hated and feared me for as long as I can remember. I should have realized ...”
He sheathed his sword then cupped her face in his hands. “We’re wed now. Ye’re no longer alone. Together we’ll find a way to change the Faes’ opinion of ye.”
The hands she placed over his trembled, and that as much as the look of gratitude in her glistening eyes snuck past his hard-won defenses. She stretched up on the tips of her toes, placing an achingly sweet kiss upon his mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He eased away from her, managing a lazy wink. “I can think of a much more enjoyable way fer ye to thank me,” he teased in an attempt to regain control over his emotions. “Though ’twill have to wait until I’ve seen to matters which I’m certain have come up in my absence.”
Her cheeks becomingly flushed, she slowly drew her hands from his, studying him as she did so.
Striding from the palace, Uscias hailed them. “Lachlan, Evangeline, I’m glad to see you have returned safely.” Not as glad as Lachlan was of his mentor’s interruption. He released a slow sigh of relief, flushing under Evangeline’s intent perusal. He tugged at his tunic, certain it was responsible for the tightness in his throat.
“Although it was quiet in your absence, there are a number of items Rohan left that require your attention. He sends his best wishes, by the way, and expects an invitation when you have organized your wedding celebration.”
“Aye, Evangeline will be gettin’ on that right away.”
She arched a brow, lips pursed. Lachlan laughed, the tension easing in his chest.
“You will have much to attend to then. I shall speak with you later. Aurora awaits her lessons.” Uscias stopped midstride, lifting a gnarled finger. “That reminds me, I returned Iain to Dunvegan. I’m hopeful he will make a full recovery. I’m certain that eases your mind.”
Lachlan grabbed hold of his mentor’s arm. “What are ye talkin’ aboot? What’s this aboot Iain?”
“I assumed you were aware of your cousin’s accident.” He frowned, angling his head to look past Lachlan. “I thought ...”
Lachlan shot a look over his shoulder in time to see Evangeline giving a furious shake of her head. She became aware of his scrutiny, and stopped abruptly. With a curse, he turned on her. “Ye kent Iain was injured and ye didna tell me?”
Evangeline held up her hands. “Lachlan, you don’t understand.”
“I think perhaps I should leave you to discuss this between yourselves.” Uscias cast a sympathetic look in Evangeline’s direction, then disappeared in a shower of light.
Chapter 15
Ignoring Evangeline’s desperate plea to listen to her, Lachlan dragged her into the stables. “Out!” he ordered the two lads, who gaped at him before fleeing through the open doors. “Now, explain to me what it is I doona understand.”
“I had no choice, Lachlan. You weren’t fully recovered and ... and I couldn’t risk leaving Uscias in Magnus’s hands any longer than—”
“Are ye tellin’ me ye kent Iain had been injured and didna lift a bloody finger to help him?” Nay, even as he asked the question he knew she couldn’t have done such a thing. She’d have to be heartless, devoid of all feeling to commit such a heinous act. Evangeline was neither.
“You’re not listening. I wasn’t even certain Aurora’s vision could be trusted. It was the first time she had one when she wasn’t in a trance.”
She took his stunned silence as permission to continue. “Even if I thought it could be, there was no way to know where he was and I couldn’t leave you.”
His heart thudded painfully in his chest, his clenched jaw ached. “And when ye kent I had recovered, why not then? Why did ye no’ tell me then?”
She bowed her head then raised her eyes to his. “I had to make a choice. We could not spare the men or the time. It was either save Iain or save the Fae from certain death if Magnus uncovered Uscias’s secrets. No matter my feelings for Iain, I couldn’t—”
“Feelin’s? Ye have no feelin’s. Ye’re a heartless bitch. I was a fool to trust ye. Yer father was right.”
She gasped as though he’d plunged a knife in her heart. He clenched his hands into fists lest the fragile reins he held on his temper snapped and he shook her within an inch of her life. As though she sensed his intention, she backed into the stall behind her.
“I’m goin’ to Dunvegan. When I return, I want ye gone from here.” He took a menacing step toward her. “I’m warnin’ ye, doona let me see ye again or I willna be accountable fer what I do. Do ye
understand
me?”
“Yes ... yes, I do.” She made no effort to wipe away the tears tracking down her colorless cheeks.
“Ye’re good, Evangeline, one might actually believe ye cared.” Lachlan ignored the dull ache in his chest at her devastated demeanor. He strode from the stables past Fallyn and her sisters, who were headed toward them. Not bothering to acknowledge them, he kept walking. If they thought he was a surly bastard before, it would be nothing to what they would think of him if he actually stopped to speak to them as they appeared to want him to.
Broderick, who’d been trailing behind the women, smirked. “I see you’re being your charming self with the ladies.”
Lachlan held up his hand. “I’m no’ in the mood.”
Broderick’s brow furrowed. “I can see that.” His friend took hold of Lachlan’s arm as he proceeded to walk by him. “What’s happened?”
Shrugging off Broderick’s hand, he said, “I doona have time to waste. I must get to Dunvegan.”
“Unless you retain Evangeline’s magick, you will require—”
He whipped his head to glare at the man. “Doona mention her name in my presence again.”
“Hold up, MacLeod. I’ll transport you to the stones.”
Lachlan chafed at the idea, however, he had no choice but to accept Broderick’s offer. He was bloody powerless without her magick. As powerless as he’d been to rescue his cousin, and it was all because of her.
Broderick studied him, then laid a hand on his shoulder. They reappeared at the standing stones just beyond Uscias’s cottage. His friend held him back before he entered the stones that would take him to the Mortal realm. “What did she do?” he asked quietly.
“I told ye, I doona have time fer this.”
“Yes, you do. I’ll go through the stones with you then transport you to Dunvegan.”
Noting the stubborn set of Broderick’s jaw, Lachlan relented. The journey to his cousin Rory’s home on Skye would take him the better part of the day without Broderick’s aid. “My cousin Iain was injured. Christ, fer all I ken he lay dying, and that heartless bitch did nothin’ to help him. She sacrificed him without a thought to what my family would suffer. All because she couldn’t bear fer Magnus to gain weapons such as my sword.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, sickened once more by what she’d done.
“As you’re aware, I have never completely trusted Evangeline, but I also know how important Syrena and your family are to her. I can’t believe she would let your cousin die if she thought she could save him.”
“Well, believe it. She admitted as much to me.” He shoved the image of her stricken eyes, her pale, tear-stained face from his mind and stepped through the stones.
As Lachlan breathed in the clean, heather-scented air on the Isle of Lewis, the memories of his youth crowded in on him. They weren’t all bad. Sweet Christ, how he missed the land and his family; if not for Arwan seducing his mother, his life would have been perfect. The Fae had screwed him over from the moment of his conception. He could no longer call the Mortal realm home, but nor was the Fae realm his home. He might be a king, but he’d always be a half-blood in their eyes—never fitting in, in either realm. Evangeline’s blood had changed that; for the short time he’d held her powers he’d felt as if he was one of them. But now the thought of her blood pumping through his veins filled him with disgust. He felt like an idiot. He’d begun to think with her at his side he had a chance to make the Fae realm his home.
“Have you decided how you will handle your marriage?”
“I’m no’ married. I have banished her from the Enchanted Isles.”
Broderick grimaced. “That may not have been the wisest move on your part, Lachlan.”
Gritting his teeth, Lachlan said, “How can ye think I’d want her near me after what she’s done?”
“I’m just saying a woman with Evangeline’s powers is a dangerous one to cross. Do you think your family will shun her as you do?”
Lachlan gave a disgusted shake of his head. “Ye canna be serious? Of course they will. She will be as unwelcome here as she is in the Enchanted Isles.”
“That’s my point. Besides Fallyn and your uncle, your family are the only ones who do not shun her. I’m concerned the pain she will surely feel at the loss will put her over the edge, and she will not care who her magick hurts. If she retaliates, neither Mortal nor Fae shall be safe.”
Fingers of unease crawled up Lachlan’s spine. “Are ye sayin’ ye believe she’s evil?”
He shrugged. “She is her mother’s daughter, but more than that, from what I’ve seen of her power, she’d be a formidable foe. I only hope for all our sakes I’m wrong.”
Broderick left Lachlan on the steps of Dunvegan. As he pushed open the oak doors, his shoulders sagged in relief at the sound of the bairn’s high-pitched laughter. Surely that boded well for Iain.
Alex and Jamie, his cousin Rory’s sons, came shrieking out of the grand hall as if the hounds of hell were after them and ran headlong into Lachlan.
“Uncle Lachlan, save us!”
Rory and his wife had named both Lachlan and Aidan honorary uncles as they only had the one—Iain. Lachlan’s heart twisted at the thought of his cousin. He scrubbed his face then looked down to where the lads clung to his legs. “From what?”
“Oh, nay, Lachlan will no’ be protectin’ ye. No’ this time. Get out from behind him, demons,” Aidan said fiercely, striding toward them.
Lachlan rolled his eyes. He should’ve known his brother was behind the boys’ hasty exit from the hall. There was no love lost between the three of them. “What did ye do this time, lads?”
“I’ll tell ye what they did.” His brother turned to show him his arse. “They slathered my chair with honey. I nearly tore the seat out of my trews when I got up.”
Stifling a laugh, Lachlan said, “Yer Auntie Syrena will no’ be happy if ye used up all the honey.”
“Nay, we didna, we saved her a pot.” Alex smiled innocently from beneath a tousled mop of ebony curls.
“Aye, we wouldn’t do that to Auntie Syrena. We love her,” Jamie added. As fair as his brother was dark, he shot Aidan a look that said they didn’t feel the same about him.
His brother took a threatening step toward them. Lachlan raised his hands. “Now, Aidan, I’m sure—”
“Aidan, whatever is the matter with you? Ava and Olivia have just gone down for their naps. You’ll be the one looking after them if they awaken.” Syrena waddled crossly toward them.
“Me? ’Tis the wee demons makin’ all the racket.”
The lads hurled themselves at Aidan’s wife. “Auntie Syrena, he said he was goin’ to wring our bloody necks if he—”
“Jamie MacLeod, what have I told you about cursing?” Aileanna, the twins’ beautiful mother, her belly almost as rounded as Syrena’s, came down the last of the steps with a hand to her lower back.
Arms crossed, Syrena shook her head at her husband. “It’s not their fault, Aileanna, Aidan has been threatening them again.”
“I see nothin’ has changed,” Lachlan remarked dryly.
“Lachlan,” both women cried as if they’d just noticed his presence then embraced him awkwardly, their rounded bellies getting in the way.
His cousin Rory, drawn from the hall by the commotion, joined Aidan to regard their wives with an amused grin. The two men with their dark hair and brawny good looks were often mistaken for twins themselves.
Syrena looked past Lachlan, then frowned up at him. “Where’s Evangeline? Uscias told us of your marriage. I thought she’d be with you.”
Everyone looked at him expectantly. “She’s no’ here, and if I have anythin’ to say aboot it, she’ll never set foot near my family again.”
“Lachlan, how can you say such a thing? She’s your wife, and more importantly, she’s my best friend.”
“Syrena,” his brother warned. Coming up behind his wife, he laid a hand on her shoulder. “What’s this aboot, Lan?”
He held his brother’s gaze. “She kent Iain had been injured and did nothin’ to help him.”
Aidan and his cousin cursed.
Aileanna leveled the two men with a pointed look before she said, “Jamie and Alex, off you go. Your dog has dug up Mrs. Mac’s garden again. You’d best find him before she does.” The bairns, who’d been about to protest their dismissal, tore from the keep without a backward glance.
“I don’t believe you. Evangeline would never do such a thing.”
“Syrena is right. She’s like family to—”
“Enough.” Lachlan held up his hand to stem the women’s defense of Evangeline. “Would someone please tell me how Iain fares?”
“Aye.” Rory came to stand behind his wife, smoothing his big hands rhythmically up and down her arms. “If no’ fer Aileanna, I doona think he would’ve survived.”
Aileanna reached back to caress her husband’s clenched jaw. “By the time Uscias brought him to us, he was suffering from severe hypothermia. And his leg ...” She sighed and lifted her shoulders. “I managed to save the limb, but we won’t know for some time if he will regain full use of it.”
Lachlan thanked God for Aileanna’s prowess as a healer. She’d been taken from her time in the twenty-first century, where she’d been a physician, by the magick of the fairy flag. If anyone could save his cousin, it would be her.
“I’d like to see him.”
“Aye, go on up. But, Lan, he’s no’ himself. Between his injuries and the loss of Glenna, well, he’s ...” Rory’s voice trailed off.
“Lachlan, wait,” Syrena called to him as he headed up the stairs. He bowed his head, blowing out a ragged breath before looking back at her. “I’m sorry, Syrena, I ken she’s yer friend, but even ye canna condone what she did.”
“But—”
“Nay, I willna speak of her again.”
 
 
The stable doors creaked open, flooding the barn with sunlight. Evangeline rose stiffly from the cold stone floor. She turned her back lest whoever had entered witnessed her sorry state, discomposed she’d allowed Lachlan to reduce her to tears—shocked he’d been able to do so.
“Evangeline, what’s happened? I’ve seen Lachlan angry before, but never like this,” Fallyn said, as she came toward her.
Angry
was such a pitiful word to describe the vindictive rage Lachlan had lacerated her with. Her stomach churned at the memory of what he’d said to her, at the icy contempt in his voice. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill the memory of his condemnation evoked. Never before had she felt so miserable and alone.
She closed her eyes, flicking her fingers at her side to call on a small portion of her magick. Grateful for its comforting warmth, the confidence it instilled in her that allowed her to face Fallyn.
Her friend’s eyes widened as she drew near. “What in the name of Fae did he do to you?”
He hated her. He’d rejected her, making her feel more evil than her father ever had. He’d demolished the small fluttering of hope that she could be happy, that she’d found someone who truly cared for her. She choked back a bitter laugh. How could she, the daughter of Andora, ever believe she had a right to happiness?

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