Mist Warrior (27 page)

“
You speak as Branan,
”
Catriona whispered.
“
You turn your English to Scots in an instant and I daresay you remember a bit of French as well.
”

“
It took a long time for me to adjust to the clan. I feared if I cared for any of them, something would happen and I would have to leave again...that somehow I would lose them too. But finally, I relaxed my guard and began to enjoy my life. Penrith, Strickland, and what he had done
,
seemed so far away it was ne'er real. Although the days passed and I grew into a man
,
it was as if I wouldna think about what I must eventually do, it would ne'er come to pass, it would ne'er be real. Then Gavin arrived...and that day was upon me like a stalking wolf lunging for the kill. Now
,
again
,
my life has turned upside down...and I'm a wraith moving through the fog.
”

She chuckled and Branan looked at her startled, hurt that she found something so serious amusing.

“
Nay,
”
she said, reading his expression.
“
I see no jest in this. But you just stated exactly what I thought when I first saw you in the woods.
”
Slowly, Catriona
explained his spectral appearance when he saved her in the forest.

Branan’s
hurt eased, glad to know he had made an impression.

She leaned forward slightly.
“
So, is that who you are, Branan MacTavish, my Scottish wraith who becomes real to wield his claymore then returns to the mist?
”

He reached up and caressed the smooth skin of her cheek, memorizing the sweet lines of her face, and thinking her soft lips were too close to his yet too far away. His hand pulled her nearer.

“
Aye,
”
Branan
whispered
,
his voice thick.
“
I am yer mist warrior, Catriona, I always have been and always will be.
”
He gently tugged her to him, kissing her with the primal passion that burned so deep within him. Her mouth responded to his, her body moving closer. He felt the soft curve of her
breasts
pressing against his chest and suddenly l
onged to wrap his arms around Catriona and pull her on top of him. Branan
wanted nothing more
,
but to feel her body covering
him
...before he faded into nothingness again. He wanted to love her, to slake the burning need within him, to make her is forever, damn Courcy and his betrothal contract.

Abruptly
,
Branan released her. His breath refused to come to him. As he g
azed at Catriona
, her azure eyes seemed darker with desire, her lips reddened from his kiss. God, he wanted her but he could not.

“
After all,
”
he said hoarsely
,
trying to ease the sudden tension crackling in the air.
“
I may be a mist warrior
,
but what do ye expect of a man whose true father is naught but a legend?
”

Catriona
blinked, startled, then straightened, her expression suddenly nervous. She stood, brushing her palms along her skirts.
“
I should let you rest.
”
She looked at him again
,
then pressed her lips against his brow. Straightening, she quickly left.

****

Catriona hurried from the shelter
,
then staggered against a tree. She fought to catch her breath and slow her pounding heart.

I am yer mist warrior, I always have been and I always will be.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight through the riot of her emotions, the tangled confus
K/fod"> but wh
ion of desire, the memory of Branan’s
kiss and his touch....

“
Mother Mary help me,
”
she whispered, her body shaking violently. Her skin prickled as she thought about the truth of his words, a warrior of the mist, a wraith, wandering lost and alone–and now it seemed as if she was the only one who grounded him, who brought him to earth where he was real and whole, where his feet could walk the land, his hands could touch, his flesh could feel...where he
could kiss her so wonderfully.

O
nly Catriona’s
betroth
al to another man would help Branan
leave the mist forever.
He
had to achieve his destiny or a wraith he would remain.

A single tear slid slowly down her cheek.

The Price of a Legacy

Catriona sat next to Branan afore the camp dinner fire, chilled to the bone and weary. She sighed in relief as he automatically loosened his plaid and wrapped it around her.

“
Aye ye all right, lass?
”

“
Aye,
”
she replied, snuggling closer. Although tired, she was happy.
Catriona’s grief and her nightmares had finally eased their hold on her.
Thistlewood’s
community grew and developed an unique and powerful camaraderie of shared hope
. Every member worked for the same goal – that t
he persecution they all suffered at Strickland's whim would stop with Branan's success.

She and Branan ate their supper together
,
but he seemed distant and preoccupied.

“
Is something amiss?
”
Catriona
a
sked after they had finished. Branan
stared up at the night sky.
“
Nay...aye...
”
He looked at her, his sea-green eyes again turbulent.
“
Walk with me.
”

“
Of course.
”

He rose and pulled her up with him, again adjusting his plaid around her shoulders. Catriona couldn't help but notice how much she enjoyed the simple action.

They moved away from the camp and toward the rapidly thinning trees. As the camp grew, the workers pushed back the tree-line and thinned the undergrowth.

Branan
finally stopped, leaning his back against a tree
,
and pulled
Catriona
in front of him.
“
I...am...,
”
he paused and frowned
,
as if searching for the words.
“
Worried.
”

“
About what?
”

“
Yer wedding fast approaches and now each day brings the one in which I will lose ye ever closer.
”

She ducked her head, she didn't want to talk about this.
“
You know why I must marry him, Branan.
”

With a crooked finger
,
he tugged her chin up.
“
Aye, I ken yer reasons and try as I might, I have found no good solution.
”

“
Then what choice do we have?
”

“
Catriona,
”
Branan
whispered so softly she could barely hear him.
“
I asked ye afore, break the betrothal.
”

Her heart twisted in her chest.
“
I cannot, Branan.
”

Suddenly
,
he dropped to one knee before her, gripping her left hand in both of his and pulling it to his lips.
“
Then I shall ask ye,
”
he said, his lips soft and his breath warm against her skin.
“
Nay, I beg ye, break the betrothal.
”

“
Branan
—
”

He stared up at her, the agony in his beautiful eyes freezing the words in her throat.
“
I ask ye to break the betrothal and become my wife instead.
”

Shock coiled through her and she gaped at him.

“
Please, Catriona, stay by my side as my lady.
”

Joy and sorrow rose side by side so powerfully she found she could not breathe. She could not see for the tears clouding her vision.
“
Oh, Branan,
”
she whispered. With her freehand
,
she stroked his hair. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the hand he held so tightly.

Catriona’s
hea
rt twisted in pain. To marry Branan
, to love him...that was all she wanted
,
but a deep part of her soul remembered agony, the torture of the day when he left her for Scotland. If she married him, he would not be able to stay for he would not have the res
ources to defeat
Strickland. Catriona
might accompany him to Scotland
,
but once again
Branan
would return to the mist and she would lose him.

“
I want nothing more,
”
she said.

Branan looked up at her, joy in his eyes.

“
But I cannot.
”

His expression melted into shock, then anguish, the
n
fury. Branan
started to rise
,
but Catriona did have one advantage. She already had her right hand on his head. She pushed down with all her might and stepped closer.
“
Branan, I cannot marry you
,
even though my heart screams for me to accept.
”