She weighed him silently. Did he play with her? Did he scoff? Knowing she believed, did he seek to use that belief against her?
The green eyes appeared guarded, but she glimpsed the stirred emotions there all the same. A certain wildness. Precious little scorn.
“’Tis ancient. As I say, ’twas there long before my ancestors found this glen. As were the stones. This is—and always was—a gey special place.”
“Aye.”
Even a brute like him must be able to sense that. No doubt it had a part in making him desire ownership of the glen, even if he did not realize as much. Those who did not understand magic sought to control it.
“Glen Bronach,” she told him, “is sacred ground, and that up on the rise doubly so. Blood should no’ be spilled upon it, though far too much has been.”
“Why then, Mistress Saerla, d’ye tak’ the field wi’ a sword in yer hand?”
“Something so precious maun be defended. Protected. I would give my life to do that.” She added softly, “I will.”
Something moved in the wild green eyes, a shadow stirring in the vibrant, dangerous depths. “This magic—d’ye own it or does it own ye, mistress?”
A curious question, and one that surprised her. “No one can own magic, Chief MacLeod. No more than one can own the light that floods through the glen at sunrise.” Would he, could he, understand? “’Tis there and yet ’tis no’. Ye can feel it, but ye canna capture it in your hand.”
“And it visits ye, does it? This—this light. The magic. It blesses ye.”
If it did, would she be here, captive? Aye, maybe so. Because this was her chance. Just as when she stepped on to thebattlefield, she could fight the darkness for the sake of the light. Here and now.
Her fingers caressed the hilt of the knife in her pocket—Leith’s knife. As it had been foretold. She had Seen herself in this man’s arms.
Terrifying as that Vision had been, she must make it manifest. This very night.
She leaned toward him. “The spirits tell us, Chief MacLeod, that all is a battle, a contest between the dark and the light. Much ugliness exists in our world.” She eyed him for a moment.Including you.“And much beauty. I will do aught I can to preserve the beauty existent up on that rise.”
“Anything?” His hand came up—one large, scarred hand—and cupped her cheek. He touched her but lightly, the whisper of skin on skin, yet the effect pierced Saerla like the kiss of lightning. For an instant her vision wavered. She Saw…
The two of them twined together, naked in the bed that lay just behind her. Moving, moving in complete and total accordance, she giving, he taking, flesh upon flesh. A consuming fire in green eyes.
Her blade at his throat.
“Saerla.” He leaned forward and whispered the word just an instant before he took her lips. “Show me. Illuminate my darkness wi’ yer light.”
Chapter Thirty
Fire, Saerla thought,her stunned senses struggling to fight through the enveloping heat of that kiss. Fire brought light. Firewaslight. Even the ancients knew that. Yet unleashed, it could also bring destruction and consume everything in its path.
The fire Rory MacLeod brought to her now was like that. Because it called up an answering flame inside her, one she was not sure she could control.
As he had before when he’d touched her, Rory did so gently, his lips questing on hers, soft and supple. It did not matter, because the passion had a life of its own. It came. It manifested. It left her defenses devastated.
She never knew whether he moved toward her or she slid across the bench to him. It did not matter, for she came up against the hard wall of his chest and the flames broke around the both of them. No escape from it.
No hope of escape.
“Saerla.” He spoke her name into her mouth, which had opened for him. No preventing that either. She could not possibly deny him entrance, because in a curious way, he was the light. Even though he was the darkness.
This time she remembered the knife in her pocket. Indeed, her fingers remained curled around the hilt till she withdrew them, worked her arms around his neck, and dug the fingers into the black silk of his hair.
Saerla.Saerla. This time she heard her name only in her mind. Her spirit rose and expanded when he called to her. Threw its arms wide to him.
The light—brought in the fire—united them. It flowed from his mouth to hers and back again. They kissed while he held her ever more surely. While he threaded his fingers through her hair. Until he broke off, gasping.
“Saerla.” Burning green eyes stared into hers. No demand in them. This had gone far past the point of demand.
