Donna Grant: Wicked Highlander

“I don’t care about Lavena. Deirdre was more of a mother to me.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do indeed.”

Isla knew in that moment as she looked into the same blue eyes as her own that Grania was lost to her forever. “Please, Grania. Deirdre’s time of rule is over. She’s gone.”

“Nay,” Grania screamed and tried to run from the room.

Isla grabbed her arm and swung the child toward her. She didn’t see the dagger in Grania’s hand until the last moment. It was pure instinct that drove Isla to use her magic to turn the dagger.

Grania grunted and fell to her knees, her eyes filled with pain.

Isla knelt beside her niece as tears fell down her face. “Oh, dear God, what have I done?” she asked as she spotted the dagger in Grania’s chest.

She hadn’t wanted to kill Grania, only to remove the weapon.

“Deirdre will make you die a thousand deaths for this,” Grania murmured. She fell to her side as blood trickled from her mouth and her lifeless eyes stared at Isla.

Isla couldn’t believe Grania was gone. She had begun to hate the child, aye, but only because of the evil Deirdre had put into her niece. Isla had hoped time away from Deirdre would turn the child as she had once been, innocent and pure.

But she knew that for the lie that it was.

It took three tries before Isla found her footing. She no longer cared about anything. She had to get as far away from the mountain and Deirdre as she could.

“What do we do?” Fallon asked Quinn as they stood around Marcail.

Quinn had come up with an idea when William had pushed the seer from her flames. “I have to get Marcail out of the flames, but I’m going to need someone to hold me so they can pull me out as well. Once I’m in, I willna be able to do anything.”

Lucan nodded. “I’ll hold onto you.”

“We better both do it,” Ramsey said.

Quinn hid his wince as he moved to Marcail. He was losing blood rapidly, and though he was immortal, with serious wounds it took a little more time to heal. He would have to get help soon, but not yet. Not before Marcail was out of the flames.

“Someone go to the other side to catch her,” Quinn said.

Fallon moved opposite Quinn. “I’ll take her to Sonya as soon as she’s out.”

Quinn met his brother’s gaze. He didn’t need to tell Fallon how important Marcail was to him. His brother knew.

“Wait,” Larena said as she ran into the chamber. She had dressed and was no longer in her goddess form.

Quinn figured that was a good thing. The fewer people that knew what she was, the better. “What?” he asked.

“The other woman. She died,” Larena said. “Are you sure we should take Marcail out of the flames?”

“I’m sure,” Quinn answered. “Deirdre had kept the seer for several centuries. She’s probably been dead for some time and Deirdre kept her body alive for the visions.”

Arran swore. “By all that’s holy.”

Quinn couldn’t agree more. He looked down at the finger that had touched the blue flames. There was no color to his skin and it was as cold as death. He didn’t think he would survive the blue fire, and though he longed to be with Marcail, he would do anything to save her.

With a nod to Fallon, Quinn stepped into the flames, his hand held out to give Marcail the push she needed to be released.

Instantly, Quinn was overtaken with cold. He tried to draw a breath but couldn’t. He fought the cold, but it took over his body in a matter of moments.

He thought of Marcail and how he would never get to hold her again. Of a sudden he recalled a conversation with his father.

“Son,” his father said, “it’s fairly simple. When you find a woman that occupies your thoughts every hour of every day and you dream about her and a future together, that’s a sign. When you canna wait to see her smile, feel her arms about you, and taste her kiss, then you love her. When you know you would gladly give up your own life regardless of the pain in order to save hers, then you love her.”

Quinn’s heart wanted to burst from his chest as he realized his father had been right about all of it. He loved Marcail, truly loved her as he had always dreamed of loving a woman.

He mourned a future with her that could never be, but at least his brothers would keep her safe at the castle. There, Marcail would thrive with Cara.

Quinn’s last thought before the cold took him under was of Marcail’s sweet smile and turquoise eyes.

“Get him out!” Fallon bellowed.

He held Marcail’s frigid body in his arms so he was helpless to do anything but watch as Lucan and Ramsey attempted to pull Quinn from the flames.

“Dammit, Quinn,” Lucan yelled. “Doona dare give up!”

The two pale blue Warriors who were obviously twins and a white Warrior stepped next to Lucan and Ramsey and added their strength to tug Quinn’s body free.

“Thank God,” Larena said as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Move,” Fallon said as he walked to Quinn. He needed to get both of them to Sonya. The gray pallor of their skin and the way ice hung from their lashes and hair didn’t give Fallon much hope.

The white Warrior lifted Quinn over his shoulder. “You’re going to need help.”

Fallon glanced at his wife before he touched the white Warrior and jumped them to the great hall in the castle.

“Shite,” a male voice said as Fallon appeared.

“Get Sonya and Cara,” he shouted to Malcolm as he raced up the stairs with Marcail still in his arms.

Behind him the white Warrior followed. Fallon thought about putting Quinn and Marcail in different chambers, then thought it would be easier on Sonya if they where together. Without another thought, Fallon strode to Quinn’s chamber.

The Warrior moved past him and jerked the covers from the bed so Fallon could lay Marcail down. Once that was done he helped the Warrior lower Quinn.

“I’m Arran,” the Warrior said. “I gave Quinn my allegiance in the Pit.”

Fallon nodded to him. “I thank you for that.”

Sonya and Cara ran into the chamber then. Sonya didn’t say a word as she went to the bed and examined the couple. She straightened and turned to Fallon. “I need to know every detail and especially if magic was involved.”

“There was magic. Deirdre’s magic to be precise.” Fallon then went on to tell her what had happened.

Sonya’s lips flatted. “This is going to take a lot of my magic. If only we had another Druid.”

“Marcail is a Druid,” Arran said. “And she has the ability to heal herself. Does that make a difference?

Sonya slowly nodded her head. “Maybe. If I can get her to hear me, I may be able to have her help me.”

“And Quinn?” Fallon asked.

“I will do my best,” Sonya said.

Cara stepped forward then. “Where are the others?”

“Lucan is safe,” Fallon assured her. “I’m going to get them once I know Sonya has all she needs to see to Quinn and Marcail.”

“I do,” Sonya said, her back to him as she lifted Marcail’s hand. “Bring the others.”

Fallon looked to Arran. “There is another Warrior here, Camdyn. Find him and fill him in on everything. Oh, and if Malcolm is still here, he’ll need to know as well.”

“I’ll see it done,” Arran said before he turned on his heel and left the chamber.

Fallon glanced once more at the lifeless form of his brother before he jumped back to Cairn Toul to retrieve the others.

Sonya looked down at Marcail and Quinn and knew it would take every ounce of her magic to save them, and even then it might not be enough.

“Blankets,” she said. “We’re going to need blankets. And a fire.”