Donna Grant: Forbidden Highlander

“Does Camdyn know that which you guard?” Malcolm asked.

Larena shook her head. “Nay. It’s enough that he knows I’m a Warrior.”

“Be careful, Larena. You may be a Warrior, but Deirdre will find out about you sooner or later.”

“I know.” She glanced away as icy fingers of foreboding raked down her back.

Malcolm touched her hand to gain her attention. “What will you do when she comes after you? For you know she will stop at nothing to acquire what you protect.”

“This I know as well. I’ve been prepared for it.”

“She has black magic. There is nothing that can prepare you for that.”

It was true, but she wouldn’t let him know how much she feared Deirdre’s discovery. For a hundred years she had lived her life as her own. Once Deirdre began hunting her, things would change. And not for the better.

If Deirdre learned of what she was, Larena would forever be running. She didn’t fear being captured by Deirdre. She feared what would happen when Deirdre learned Larena guarded the Scroll.

The Scroll was a list of all the surnames of every Celtic man who had been inhabited by a god to drive out the Romans. It was a list that Deirdre would want at all costs since she could then easily find the men whose bloodline housed a god.

Larena would never forgive herself if the Scroll fell into Deirdre’s hands. It was one of the reasons she kept the secret to herself. The only reason Malcolm knew was because he was family and had been told by his father.

“It’s why you want to talk to the MacLeod, isn’t it?” Malcolm guessed, breaking into her thoughts. “You think he and his brothers can protect you.”

“If anyone can help keep me from Deirdre, it’s the MacLeod and his brothers.”

“And if he says nay?”

She blew out a breath, not even wanting to think of the possibility. “Then I will face Deirdre on my own.”

Malcolm’s arm muscles clenched beneath her hand before he turned and led her back to the castle. “I pray you’re right about MacLeod.”

“So do I,” she murmured.

Her life was nothing, but the Scroll she guarded was too precious to fall into evil hands.

Fallon watched Larena Monroe from his window. He had been surprised to see her walk into the gardens alone. For a moment she had dropped the smile and let herself relax. In that instant, he had seen the despair and anxiousness in the small frown that marred her smooth forehead.

As soon as the man had joined her, she quickly brought the smile back, however. It was an easy smile, not the obligatory one he saw in the great hall. Whoever this man was, she obviously cared for him. And that annoyed Fallon more than he cared to admit.

Larena and the man had sat for several moments talking before they stood and walked through the garden. Fallon knew he shouldn’t spy on her, but he couldn’t help himself. Everything Larena did fascinated him. From the tilt of her head to the lift of her hand, her every movement was graceful and elegant. The golden curls that framed her face tantalized him with a view of her slender neck.

In the quiet of his chamber, he was able to observe her at his leisure, and he found he quite enjoyed what he saw. The more he looked, the more he wanted to look. It was no wonder every man in the castle wanted her. It wasn’t just her beauty, it was the strength and resolve inside her that drew men’s gazes like a moth to flame.

The way the man held her, as if she were his, caused Fallon’s fists to clench. Was he observing a clandestine meeting? He hadn’t bothered to ask anyone if she was married. As much as Fallon told himself it didn’t matter, the simple truth was it did. Because he wanted her for himself.

“It cannot be,” he told himself.

Yet, as daft as it was, he did want her.

Fallon turned and walked to his bed. He fell facefirst on it and took a deep breath before rolling to his back. His gaze moved to the burgundy velvet canopy that reminded him of Larena Monroe and the gown she wore.

He wished he knew what was going on at his castle. Had Deirdre sent additional Warriors to attack? Were the repairs going according to plan? Had more of Galen’s Warrior friends found their way to the castle? Had Cara and Sonya found the spell that would bind their gods?

Too many questions and no answers. But those questions weren’t what kept him awake at night. Nay, it was his worry of Quinn in Deirdre’s dungeon. He had no idea what Deirdre was doing to his youngest brother, and that scared him as nothing else could.

“I’m coming, Quinn. Hold on, brother. Hold on,” he whispered into the chamber.

He had wanted to go after Quinn immediately, but cooler heads had prevailed. They needed leverage against Deirdre. Besides Lucan’s wife, Cara, there was only one thing Deirdre wanted more — the Scroll.

The Scroll was a list of all the names of men who had housed the gods when the Celts fought the Romans. Deirdre had her own ways of discovering these men who could have the god inside them, but the Scroll would give her all the surnames instantly. It would help her to triple her Warriors in a matter of weeks instead of years. And with those Warriors, Deirdre would have control over Scotland — and the world — all too soon.

Fallon wanted to discern whatever he could about the Scroll, but so far he had found nothing that led him to believe the Scroll was even real. So much got added to stories in the retelling that the legend of the Scroll could have been included at any time.

He sat up when there was a soft knock on his door. Fallon rose and let his claws lengthen. He didn’t trust anyone, and he would be damned before he was caught unawares by Deirdre.

“Who is it?” he called.

“A servant, sir, sent by Baron MacNeil. He has sent you a message,” said the feminine voice.

Fallon walked to the door and opened it a crack to find a young girl with auburn hair standing before him. She held out the missive, her hand shaking and her eyes downcast.

He retracted his claws and reached for the parchment. “Thank you.”

She dipped into a hurried curtsy and started to turn away.

“Wait,” Fallon said. He opened the note and read it. Fallon clenched his jaw when he learned Iver had sent a missive to the king even after Fallon had told him not to.

“Aye, milord?” Her gaze briefly met his.

Fallon folded the parchment. He would deal with Iver later. He leaned his shoulder against the doorway and pushed the door open wider. “Tell me what you know of Lady Larena Monroe.”

The young girl fiddled with her skirts. “She is very beautiful and kind to everyone.”

Fallon lifted a coin and held it before her. “Is it true all the men want her?”

“Aye, milord. She is sought after by many. Her brother is very protective.”

Damn. He handed her the coin and lifted another. “A brother, aye? Who is he?”

“Lord Malcolm Monroe. He’s a handsome devil. He’s as sought after as his sister.”

Fallon narrowed his gaze as his mind raced. “Is that so? Which man is seeking Lady Larena’s favor now?”

“Milord?” the servant asked, her brow furrowed.

He sighed and held up another coin. “What man is in her bed?”

The girl’s eyes grew large. “I wouldn’t know, milord. For all the gossip, there is no man I’ve heard claim that he’s had her.”

“Interesting.” Fallon pulled out some more coins and handed them to the servant. “Thank you for the information.”