Highlander the Dark Dragon (18 page)

Heather was relieved when she woke to an empty bed. She yawned and stretched, trying to chase the fatigue that still clung to her. Her endless thoughts had soon turned to worry that barely let her sleep last night. There was no denying that she had been disappointed in the moment she had dreamed about so often through the years. Worse though, was the thought that she could very well be slipping into the darkness with the Dragon, just as he had warned she might do.

While Quinn’s touch was nice, it did not fire her soul like the Dragon’s demanding touch.

She shook her head, trying to make sense of the fact that the Dragon and Quinn were one and yet they were different. What had happened to Quinn that had turned him into the Dragon? And why when Quinn had for a brief time broken free of the Dragon’s hold and revealed his old self, did she prefer the Dragon?

She shook her head again. She did not want to descend into the Dragon’s darkness, but she would go anywhere and do anything to save Quinn. She loved him beyond reason, which meant, she also loved the Dragon.

A knock sounded at the door and she called out for the person to enter, glad for a reprieve from her troubling thoughts.

Nessa bustled in with a serving tray and a smile. “It is nigh on noon, my lady.”

Heather jumped out of bed. “I have never slept that long. I have lost half the day.”

Nessa placed the tray on the small table and moved a chair over to it, holding it out for Heather to sit. “The Dragon said you had a restless night and that you were not to be disturbed, though I was to check on you from time to time.”

He knew she had not slept well, but how? Had he not as well? If he had not, she had not known it, for he had barely moved the entire night.

“Did your head wound pain you, my lady?” Nessa asked, going to tend the bed after Heather was seated.

Before Heather could let Nessa know that her head was feeling much better, the bump fading in size and pain, she heard Nessa gasp. Heather was about to ask what was wrong when she realized it herself. There was proof on the bedding that the wedding vows had finally been sealed.

Nessa turned. “You are well, my lady?”

“Very well, Nessa.”

“I will see to washing these myself,” Nessa said, gathering up the bedding and went on talking. “There is much speculation of what is being kept hidden in the barn.”

Heather’s interest caught as fast as a flame did to a wick. She had completely forgotten about yesterday when her husband had abruptly left the Great Hall with Fife and Pitt. “Fife has said no more to you?”

“He insists it is too gruesome to discuss with me, though I have heard something, but I believe it more tale than truth.”

“Tell me,” Heather urged.

Nessa lowered her voice to a whisper. “I heard a severed head has been found, though no one is saying who it belongs to and since all ghost warriors are accounted for,” —she shrugged—“who knows who it could be.”

“That is awful.” Heather shivered, feeling terrible for the poor soul and wondering how she could get into the barn and see the head for herself. “Is that where my husband is now?”

Nessa shook her head. “No, my lady. He spent the morning in his solar with Pitt, and then took to the practice field about an hour ago. He is usually there a couple of hours or more each day.”

That would give her enough time to see if she could get into the barn. “Does the door remain guarded?”

“Aye, though the guard now remains hidden and eyes will remain on you wherever you go, so Fife tells me.”

Heather smiled. “A romance brews with Fife?”

Nessa blushed. “I believe it does. He grows upset when he sees Pitt talking with me.” She giggled. “I think he is jealous, though he has no reason to be, I have no interest in Pitt. I do wonder why Pitt bothers with me. I give him no cause to think I have any interest in him and yet it is as though he seeks me out.” She smiled. “I must admit that he is interesting to talk with and easy to look upon and a woman could get lost in his deep blue eyes.” She shook her head. “But he is not for the likes of me. One good poke and he would not look my way again.” Nessa gasped. “I am sorry, my lady, I should not speak of such things with you.”

“I am glad that you do,” Heather said. “It reminds me of when I would talk with my sisters and helps me to miss them a little less. Now I should dress and be about, for I have wasted too much of the day already.”

~~~

“What are you trying to do, kill them?” Pitt asked, handing Rhys a cloth.

Rhys took it and wiped the sweat from his face. He ignored the sweat that clung to his naked chest. He was not done yet; there was more fight left in him. “They will face a mighty foe and I want them prepared.”

Prepared is one thing, dead is another. If you do not go easy—”

“Easy? You think the enemy will go easy?” Rhys turned to the group of his warriors, looking ready to collapse. “Do you wish to live?”

All the men nodded vigorously.

“Then fight like you mean it or die cowards.”

The men straightened and drew their shoulders back.

Rhys walked into the middle of the practice field, sword in hand. “You think your enemy will give you pause to rest, to catch a needed breath? The enemy will strike again and again and not stop striking until every one of you lies dead and the ground is soaked with your blood.” He raised his sword. “The first one to leave a mark on me shall be generously rewarded.”

The warriors lunged forward, attacking the Dragon.

In minutes, they all laid at the Dragon’s feet.

Pitt shook his head as he handed Rhys the cloth once again. He kept his voice low when he said, “My words will stir your wrath, but better your wrath be stirred than you kill your men. Go to your wife and let the Dragon loose. He needs feeding.”

Rhys turned a furious scowl on him.

It did not deter Pitt from continuing to speak. “That day you found me in that pit I was no longer the man I had once been. He had to die so that I could live and so that day Pitt was born. You did the same. The Dragon was born out of necessity. It is who you are now and who you will always be. You are being unkind to your wife to let her think otherwise.” Pitt turned and went to help the fallen men to their feet and wake those still unconscious.

Rhys stood there, cloth in hand, Pitt’s words leaving him to think on something he had not wanted to since he woke this morning. He had refused to let the Dragon loose last night, though God help him he had wanted to, but he feared the results. He would frighten his wife and forever keep her from their bed, and he did not want that. Yet he also did not want it to be the way it was last night between them. He had found no pleasure in making love to her and he could tell her pleasure was not what it had been in the solar when he made her come.

But the Dragon was a hungry one, having had two or three women in one night and had still been left hungry. He was also more demanding than gentle, but perhaps it had been because he was always trying to assuage his sexual hunger that never seemed to abate. He thought perhaps with Heather it might be different. The only difference was how disappointing it had been.

Pitt was right. He was not who he once was and never would be again and he was foolish to think he could somehow revisit the past and make it right.

Rhys turned. “Those who can still stand better be ready to fight me.”

~~~

Heather left the keep, knowing eyes followed her every step. The question was...how could she avoid those eyes?

It was an overcast day with a light breeze in the air, making it feel more like early autumn than summer. The village was busy, women tending their gardens, children playing, and men making repairs on the few things still in need.

Heather smiled and returned greetings as she walked around the village, making certain she could see the barn from different angles. One guard stood at the front, the barn door closed, not that she could gain entrance that way. And there was no point in trying to gain entrance the way she had the last time. Her husband no doubt had had the loose board sealed.

How then did she get in there? Frustrated that she did not see a way, she continued to meander around the village.

“A storm approaches.”

Heather glanced up at the sky and was surprised to see that gray clouds had gathered overhead and was about to agree with Seamus when she looked at him and saw that he leaned heavily on a walking stick. “Are you not feeling well, Seamus?”

“It is just an old injury that troubles me when storms brew and winter sets in and reminds me how old I am getting.” He stepped closer. “Have you discovered where they took Aggie?”

“No, but I promise you I will.”

His head drooped. “Before it is too late, I hope.”

Heather placed her hand on Seamus’s arm. “You have my word, Seamus, that I will find out what is happening to the old McComb villagers and I promise I will make sure that you remain here with your daughter and her family.”

Tears came to the old man’s eyes. “I never thought I would grow old. I thought a battle would get me before age would and I sometimes wish it had. I watch the Dragon and his men on the practice field and long for the days I was that young and spry. I do not like growing old.”

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“There she goes again, my Alaina,” Seamus said with a shake of his head and a smile.

“She keeps a good watch on you. I believe she loves you very much.”

“Aye, she looks after me. You should head back to the keep, my lady, soon now the sky will drop buckets of rain on us.” He went to turn and stopped. “I remembered something Fane once told me that might help with finding the secret passage.”

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“Bless her, she thinks my legs still move as fast as they once did. Quick now, let me tell you what I recall. Fane said that if there was ever an attack and the sword took him that I was to take Mary to her solar on the upper floor, and he told me to take my family with me.”

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“I must go, my lady, and I thank you for any help you can give me.”

Heather watched him amble off, calling out to his daughter as he did and when he was a good distance away, she turned and hurried off, her destination Mary’s solar.

She did not know if she was followed and did not care. She was determined to solve the mystery of the secret passage. If rain fell soon, it would drive her husband into the keep and he would no doubt search for her. She had little time to spare. She hurried up to the upper floor and grabbed the torch from the sconce. She entered Mary’s solar and used the torch to light the logs in the small hearth. They caught quickly, the wood dry from having lingered there. She returned the torch to the sconce and when she stepped in the room again, she was pleased to see that the hearth’s flames had cast sufficient light in the room.

In here was the secret passage and she intended to find it.

An hour later with dust covering a good bit of her and smudges of dirt dotting her face, Heather was no closer to finding the secret passage than she had been when she had first entered the room. Though, the room was much cleaner than before and much more inviting. She could understand why Mary McComb and her mum spent time here stitching and talking. The things they must have discussed, the hopes and sorrows they must have shared, just as she did with her sisters. She only wished her mum could have been there to share the years with them.

“What are you doing here?”

Heather jumped, her hand going to her chest. “Can you please announce your approach before you actually appear? You forever startle me.”

“And you forever—”

“Disobey you—” she finished while the rest of what she intended to say abruptly died on her lips. She had seen her husband look formidable many times, but nothing like he did now. His muscles were swollen hard from exertion and sweat clung to his naked chest and arms, as if it refused to let go, and she could not blame it. She would love to be clinging to him right now and the wicked thought had, to her frustration, tingles nipping teasingly at the most intimate of places. She forced herself to finish what she had to say. “I know I forever disobey you and I see an unlikely chance of that ever changing.”

Rhys battled his growing arousal, but then he had been battling it since last night. It was the reason he had left their bed before she woke this morning or else they probably would still be there. Now, seeing her covered in dust and dirt marring her lovely face made him want to dirtier her even more with his sweat-covered body. And damn if the thought did not turn him harder.

He slammed the door so hard behind him after stepping fully into the room that the whole keep must have heard it. “You will learn to obey me.”

Heather had always found that kind words went far and could help avoid potentially difficult situations, but that was before passion took hold of her.

She walked over to him and leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Make me.”

He grabbed the back of her neck tightly. “You are playing with fire.”

God help her but she was, but she did not care. She needed to know the Dragon, taste him, and become part of him if she was ever going to truly be reunited with Quinn. “I do not fear getting burned.”

“Then God help you, wife, for you are about to get scorched and the scars it leaves may be too deep for you to ever forget.”

“I do not want to forget the moments I share with you. I want to always remember."

He reached out and with quick, rough hands stripped her bare, and then did the same to himself.

She reached out and ran her hand down his chest. “I love seeing you naked.”

“Worry not, wife, for I will make certain you see me naked often.”

“Promise?” she whispered, bringing her lips close to his.

He grabbed at the back of her hair and yanked her head back, bringing his mouth down near hers as he said, “You have the word of the Dragon. Now open your mouth for me.”

This time she obeyed without question and was soon caught up in a kiss that had her lost in a haze of passion. He trailed the kiss down her neck, nipping as he went and sending gooseflesh racing over her before returning to her mouth.