Highlander's Bride (The Fae #1)

A portal opened and he held onto Cherub as the three of them fell away into the churning abyss. Within the dark, lightning flashed and stars blazed. His soul lifted and his heart rejoiced at soon being closer to his chosen one once more. For the past month since his escape all he’d wished to do was heal so he might return to her. He longed to see the fiery spark in her blue eyes. She was spectacular, mesmerizing, a true Scottish lass with the fire of the fae in her blood. Aye, no more would he allow her to deny their bond.

“Here we are.” Cherub settled them down and the churning darkness gave way to the vivid brightness of the day, the morning air crisp yet still holding the warmth of the sun. Blue skies reigned overhead with only the odd smattering of cloud, while pine and elm trees rose tall and strong. Birds chirped and flew from branch to branch.

“Kyla’s about a hundred yards farther along this trail.” Kirk gestured toward the scrub-lined pathway leading north. “I wish you well on your chase.”

“Both of you have my immense thanks for all you’ve done.” He stepped back. “Travel safely.”

“We will, and be careful.” The wind rushed and in the blink of the eye, Cherub disappeared with Kirk through another portal, the two gone just as quickly as they’d come.

Aye, ’twas time for him to be gone too.

Along the trail, he snuck then halted as up ahead splashing trickled toward him.

With nary a noise, he stepped out from amongst the thick trees encircling a clearing. Sunshine rippled across the glistening surface of a perfectly round pool holding his enticing siren within.

Scooping water at her sides, Kyla floated on her back, her waist-length locks splaying out like a lily pad of golden-red, her dainty face upturned and eyes closed. The water swelled around her, cascaded over her bare legs and belly. Her full breasts rose above the surface and her rosy nipples sat stiff and pointy on top. Hell. He hadn’t expected to find her without a stitch of clothing on.

He should turn away, give her the privacy she desired, only doing so right now was impossible. Her lips, softly parted, drew his gaze even though every curved inch of her remained on glorious display. He wanted to kiss her, to know her taste and touch, just as he’d desired the same during his captivity.

Memories surged, of the moment when he’d sensed the depth of their bond taking form and the strands between their souls weaving more firmly together. Deep underground behind iron bars, he’d yanked on his cuffed hands chained back against the wall, while she’d stood on the other side of his cell in the darkened passageway with a guard at her side.

“Stand aside, Gordon.” Kyla had swished into the cell after Gordon had unlocked it, a bowl of steaming stew and a tankard of water in hand. In a sleeveless teal gown and a cream under-tunic, a heavy silver-chained girdle clasped around her tiny waist, she’d scraped a wooden crate from the corner forward and set the food and drink on top of it.

He hadn’t been able to get his fill of her, his gaze devouring his chosen one as he’d searched to ensure she remained unharmed since their first meeting the day before. That had been when he’d learned her new name. Known as Kyla, the Chief of MacKenzie’s foster daughter, she’d lived within his enemy’s household since her abduction and had arrived here recently to visit her two favored foster brothers.

“Are you well, Kyla?” His voice had been a mess as he’d spoken to her, all raspy and dry.

“You need never fear for me, Ronan. I am amongst my own kin here.” She shot a look at Gordon. “Leave. He willnae eat with you present.”

“You pander to him and shouldnae. I shall give you five minutes and no more.” Gordon had snorted as he’d walked out the door, closed it after himself with a loud clang and marched down the corridor.

“You must eat and drink if you wish to maintain your strength.” She’d picked up the chipped tankard she’d brought and held it up to his chapped lips. “Now, afore I am forced to leave and you miss the chance to do so.”

“Cease using force against me.” He’d taken a hearty swallow of the water. She’d unknowingly used force, her fae mind-walker skill rising as she’d issued her command, her mind naturally seeking out his due to their bond. “I can sense your fae skill, your subtle yet clear push within my mind to make me obey your orders.”

“I have no idea what you speak of. I hold no fae skill. I am a MacKenzie, the foster daughter of my chief, a fact you’d best no’ forget.”

“Trust me, you hold a fae skill whether you wish to acknowledge it or no’, although it likely lays buried somewhat inside you since you have no’ had the chance to be guided by our people in the full use of it. You can do more than touch another’s mind. You can also delve deeper and sway our thoughts. I too am part fae and can sense your ability.”