Chapter 2
Raeglen Castle, Scottish Highlands, August 1630
Lady Wilona MacRae, in the form of a raven, panicked and took to wing. She flew from the window of her great hall while a bloody battle raged behind her. In her beak, she clutched the tail of a wriggling mouse—Alpin, her ally in vengeance. Only moments ago, Gavin MacTavish and his clan had defeated them. Most of her guards had been killed or badly injured in the skirmish.
Since Wilona had cursed the three men over a year prior in revenge for her son's murder, she'd gained the ability to shapeshift into any animal she chose, as well as force a shift on anyone she touched. This proved useful in many situations, like now—escaping her enemies.
The sharp Highland wind caught at her wings, tossing her this way and that, making flying more difficult. What would she do now, since all her plans were dashed? Gavin and his strumpet had shattered his curse.
She would place a new curse upon him!
Wilona swooped down and alighted on a hillside near a cave. No one would find them here. She opened her beak and dropped Alpin. As a mouse, he looked far cuter. Although as a strapping young man nearly twenty years her junior, he was nay bad looking.
Alpin squeaked and scurried about, then stood on his hind legs to stare up at her. If she caused herself and him to shift into their human forms now, they would be naked with no clothing nearby. She did not want to be in that awkward situation. Once Gavin and his clan left her castle, she would fly back. If needed, she could alter her and Alpin's forms again, and their enemies wouldn't recognize them.
As she paced and fluttered over the large stones, a reddish-brown object caught her attention within the four-foot-tall green bracken fern fronds. Was that a small chunk of mahogany wood? Excitement flooded her. She hurried forward and navigated through the fern stems. Aye, 'twas partly covered in last year's dried fern leaves. She recognized part of a carved lion on the side.
My keek-stane chest!
Gavin had stolen it several days ago. She searched through the dried bracken, finding more shards of wood. But where was the obsidian keek-stane? She searched around and between the rocks and boulders. Gavin had been in hawk form when he'd stolen it. He'd obviously carried the box from her chamber in his talons and dropped it on these stones to shatter it. Then he'd probably picked up the keek-stane and taken it elsewhere. But where? Back to Caithmore Castle? She glanced around. Could he have hidden it in the cave?
She flew from the boulder to the cave's entrance. 'Twas dark inside, and she hesitated. Did other animals lurk within? She eased forward, scanning the walls with her sharp vision. Nothing moved.
An object at the back of the cave reflected the daylight from outside. She hastened toward it, her talons stirring up the dust. She scratched at the rubble, uncovering her beloved keek-stane. 'Twas flat and resembled a black mirror.
She uttered a call that sounded like a laugh and picked up the five-inch round stone in her beak. Gleefully flying, she carried it from the cave.
The magical words of the spell to change her and Alpin's forms ran through her mind. They transformed into wolves. Alpin rolled upon the ground in howling agony for a moment, then pushed himself up. Because she did not resist the shifting, her own pain was minimal.
He stared at her wide-eyed, then down at his paws as if flabbergasted. Aye, 'twas the first two times he'd been in animal form.
With a yip, she saidfollow me, then gently picked up the keek-stane in her mouth, trying not to scar it with her sharp canine teeth. They loped down the hillside and toward Raeglen Castle.
Hiding in the bracken and bushes some distance from the castle, she observed the men milling about around the open portcullis. She recognized one as her late husband's younger brother, Norval, the new clan chief.
Her son, Silas, was supposed to be chief. But he'd been murdered by Gavin, Torr, and Brodie. Rage assaulted her anew. After the defeat by Gavin and his clan, she would see him cursed again... or dead. 'Twould take some time to work out a new plan.
When Gavin and the MacTavish clan finally rode away from Raeglen Castle, she wanted to shoutgood riddance. She merely gave a low growl instead.
Now, if only Norval would hie back to the main MacRae castle, Duncorry, she could do as she wished in her own home.
But they remained at Raeglen for hours.
A while after dark, she grew impatient and turned herself and Alpin into small owls. She grasped the keek-stane in her talons and flew toward her bedchamber window. 'Twas still broken out where Gavin had thrown a rock against it. Once she and Alpin were inside the room, lit only by the fireplace, she left the keek-stane on the table and changed herself and Alpin into their human forms.
"Damnation! That hurts," Alpin bellowed.
"Shh. They're still here, you lackwit."
The door opened and slammed back against the wall. One of her guards stared at her in the firelight, his eyes rounded at her nudity.
Wilona grabbed the woolen blanket off the bed and wrapped it around herself. "Stand down, MacClure!" she ordered. "And close the door on your way out."
"Chief!" he yelled down the corridor instead of obeying her command. When he noticed Alpin standing to the side, naked, he drew his sword. "Stay where you are, sirrah."
Feet thudded along the corridor. She ground her teeth, yearning to turn MacClure into a toad, but her brother-in-law, Chief Norval MacRae, appeared in the doorway. His black and gray flecked beard matched his hair. His stocky body was thicker than the last time she'd seen him.
"M'lady! How did you slip past the guards?" His dark, wide-eyed gaze turned to Alpin and his nudity. "Oh. So that's the way of it. You two must have been frolicking in here the whole day."
