Highlander's Heart (Clan Matheson #2)

“Tell them to get down to the sea-gate now. If Donnan sets sail, I’ll have a fight on my hands to get my chosen one back.” The MacDonald’s stronghold on the Isle of Skye was one of the most fortified structures ever constructed and protected by a garrison of hundreds of men. He urged his war horse into a faster pace and whizzed through the forest along the beaten trail. Fallen leaves and pine needles whooshed about the forest floor and he jumped the odd log, ducked his head under a low branch and galloped on. “Talk to me, Layla.”


“I’m sitting in the hull, roped to the center mast and I can hardly breathe with this gag in my mouth and whatever covering it is they’ve tossed over me.” A wealth of worry channeled through from her. He sensed her pain as she shoved at her bindings and tried to wriggle one hand free. The soft skin of her wrists had almost been rubbed raw from her struggle to free herself. “Please be careful. I’m surrounded by MacDonald warriors and I have no intention of living on this Earth without you. If you die, then I die.”

“I’m almost there. Tavish spoke to Julia along their link and she’s at the castle. She’s about to alert the guard and find your father. We’re coming, all of us.” Determination spurred him on as he hurtled down the final stretch of the trail. He rode hard along the grassy verge of the loch then hauled his mount to a halt a mere horse-head in front of Tavish at the sea-gate landing. He jumped down and sprinted toward the MacDonald galley moored at the end.

Donnan stood at the stern, his claymore drawn and a fierce smirk on his face as one of his men released the mooring rope then bounded on board. They pushed off the landing.

Over his shoulder, he yelled to his brother, “Stay alive, Tavish. It’s time to fight.”

“I’m right here.” Tavish whipped his sword free.

Fight they would. Sword in hand, Tor leapt the distance from the landing to the moving galley, landed in the vessel with Tavish, his blood roaring for revenge and his enemy now standing directly before him. He’d never allow MacDonald to take his chosen one from him. He’d fight, to the death if he must. “I love you, Layla. Where you are, is where I too shall be, on this Earth or beyond the veil.”

Up along the battlements, the horn trumpeted and he swung and met Donnan’s brutal blow while Donnan’s men stood at their captain’s back and hauled their weapons free.





Chapter 7


Swords clashed and Layla screamed where she sat trussed up to the center mast and unable to see a damn thing. The galley shook and men bellowed. She focused only on Tor and their merged link, his thoughts careening through to her. Strike. Duck. Attack. Donnan and his warriors were coming at him from every side, Tavish the only one aiding him in his fight.

She had to free herself so she could help him. The breeze whispered across her neck under the loose edge of the smelly sack and waves crashed against the side of the galley. She sawed her hands together, the skin at her wrists on fire.

A fierce battle cry boomed all around, then another clash of steel hitting steel rung loud in her ears.

“Hold tight, Layla.” Tor’s warning ricocheted in her head as the vessel rocked from side to side.

“Get back!” Donnan’s shout, his bellow laced with fury. “She’s going over.”

Over? The galley rolled and she slid down the mast and struck something before her head shattered with pain and the turbulent waters of the bay closed in over her. Within the depths of the icy cold bay, she fought to stay alert and rid herself of her bindings. The underwater rip churned and tossed her about, jerked the sack away into its murky gloom. Goodness. She could finally see, no matter how badly within the darkness of the water.

The ropes attached to the mast pulled excruciatingly tight around her middle. They tore at her chest and legs as they tangled tighter about her. With her skill, she wrenched the bindings free, yanked her hands out then tore the gag from her mouth and clawed for the surface. Her drenched skirts dragged her back down and the swell pulled her even deeper. Nay, the sea wouldn’t take her, not now she’d finally found the man who held the other half of her soul. She wanted to live, to have him hold her in his arms and never let her go. “Tor!”

“I’m here.”

An arm cinched around her waist.

She lurched around and stared into the most piercing golden shifter eyes. Tor firmed his hold on her and pushed them both upward through the twisting current and in a flurry of bubbles, they broke the surface.

“Are you hurt?” She gulped in great drafts of air as she clung to him.

“My heart will never be the same again.” He cupped the back of her head and drew her closer. His black hair floated around his neck as he treaded water and kept them both afloat. “Too many of Donnan’s men surged to one side during the battle and she went over, fast. I thought I’d lost you. Your thoughts were blaring at me, your struggle mine. I couldn’t reach you in time, not through the tangle of sail, ropes, and men.”