Page 35 of Enchanted

Graeme and Aria must have noted her response because they shifted their horses around hers and Keiran’s. “We will go on ahead and find a place to secure the horses,” Graeme said before he and Aria proceeded down the hill, leaving Rosalyn and Keiran alone.

Keiran shifted his gaze to the landscape. “When Orrick found out we were coming here, he informed me that these rock formations were created over ten thousand years ago in the last Ice Age. He said they were formed by glacial movements. Yet many of the locals seem to believe that this is where fairies live.”

“Do fairies live here?” Rosalyn asked, searching his face.

His features tightened. “Fairyland and the human realm are intertwined. Fairies may live under the mounds we see here, or they may not. It is not always easy to tell.”

Rosalyn’s grip tightened on her reins, causing her horse to dance closer to Keiran’s. “Do you have only bad memories of Fairyland?”

He pressed his lips together and for a moment she thought he would not answer her. “I was under an enchantment while I was there which made everything seem different than it was. When the enchantment ended, I saw the truth. My whole life had been a lie.” Pain flared in his eyes. “None of that matters now that I am here. My family loves me. What more could I want?”

“Keiran, neither of us can undo our past.” Rosalyn noted the lines of grief and wariness at the corners of his eyes. “Since coming to Dunvegan, you have taught me that it is my past that has made me who I am today. Because of you, I was given a second chance to live. I could have chosen to wallow in the misery that had been my prior life. Instead, I am choosing to live, to embrace each moment, allowing it to make me stronger and more of who I am meant to be.”

“You are correct.” Weariness vanished from his eyes. “Thank you for that reminder. Today is what is important because who knows what tomorrow might bring.” For a moment, his gaze drifted into the distance as though looking for something only he could see. A heartbeat later, he turned back to her. “Shall we go explore?”

At her nod, they found the place Graeme and Aria had left their horses then started off down the hill, leaving their horses to graze near a large rock formation that Keiran called Castle Ewen. “The spire here is not a true castle, only a geological formation that many before us believed was a fairy castle.”

Graeme and Aria went to climb the castle, while Keiran led Rosalyn towards a series of large, mystical stone spirals.

She moved to the centre of the stones as she took in the vastness of the land surrounding her. A sense of awe and humility flowed through her with a growing intensity as she drew in the scents of the earth and the sky. Had her Scottish ancestors visited here? Had they felt the same sense of peace and tranquillity that came over her now? She closed her eyes, breathing slowly, feeling a connection to all living things. When she opened her eyes, Keiran stood before her.

“You feel it, do you not? That you are a small part of something bigger?”

She shivered as her heart began to thunder in her chest. “Is this what you feel? What all Scots feel? A profound connection to nature itself?”

He took her in his arms. “I cannot speak for all my people, but it is what I increasingly feel.”

She turned her face up to his. Searching his comforting gaze, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace. He was so close. Close enough to kiss. She shifted forward, bringing her lips close to his.

“Does this mean you feel Scottish? That you concede to our competition?”

“Aye,” she said instead of her usual “yes.”

His lips brushed hers at first, then his arms closed more tightly around her, pulling her against the firmness of his chest as he kissed her deeply, persuading her to open herself to him as shivers tingled through her limbs.

She inhaled sharply and pulled back to stare into his face. His features were taut with strain but there was also something that had not been there before. Hope and desire.

Her tongue came out to moisten her lips as she tried to form the words to tell him she felt it too—a surge of something light and wonderful and pure. Before she could form the words, his lips descended on hers again. In response, her hands slipped up to his shoulders. Her touch became explorative as her lips softened beneath his. He deepened the kiss, demanding more from her in a world that had gone suddenly rich and sensual.

What was she doing? Rosalyn dragged her mouth from Keiran’s and shifted her head down against the frantic beating of his heart. “Your prize has been claimed,” she said in a ragged voice, trying to calm her own rapidly beating heart.

He stepped back, arms falling to his sides, his eyes still burning with the same desire she had seen there moments before. “Aye. It has. Yet, I—” His unsaid words hung between them.

Rosalyn wrapped her arms about her waist, fighting the urge to pull him close and lose herself in his kiss once more. She finally understood the desire that had destroyed her parents. Her one brief kiss with Lieutenant Long had caused no such reaction in her. With Keiran, her senses had been bombarded with sensation. The moment his lips had met hers, there had been a bond, a closeness, a sense of delight as well as vulnerability. And for a heartbeat, she had trusted him not to hurt her even though evidence pointed to the fact that was where this kind of connection would lead. “You are the one who wanted a kiss.”

He stepped farther away. “Let us go and join Graeme and Aria at the top of the castle formation.” He did not wait for her as he headed for the tallest peak in the Fairy Glen.

Rosalyn hesitated as every nerve in her body tingled at the memory of Keiran’s kiss, and the thrilling warmth of his body tight against her own. She pressed her hand to her lips, recalling the gentleness of his touch. This kiss had not been rough; it had held a certain reverence, a tenderness that she had not expected. She dropped her hand and took a step when something shimmered in the fairy ring in which she stood. Streaks of white light appeared, widening, and elongating a few steps from her.

She tried to step back, but her feet remained rooted in place. Rosalyn’s heart thundered in her chest as she watched the shifting light darken, then take form.

Far away a voice called. “Rosalyn . . .” The words echoed in her mind as a man formed before her. He was tall, with white hair, pale skin, and piercing blue eyes. He wore a golden crown on his head and his clothing was aristocratic yet seemed to be made from the fibres of trees and leaves.

He drew a sword. It flashed in the air. A scream lodged in her throat as the weapon came down. Then, the man vanished, leaving an empty space where he had stood with raised sword only a heartbeat ago. Her body trembled. In the distance, Keiran raced towards her. His steps seemed slow, exaggerated, as her heartbeat filled her ears. Then finally he reached her and wrapped his arms around her. Held her close until the frantic beat of her heart slowed.

“’Tis all right. I will never let him hurt you,” Keiran whispered against her ear.

Feeling more settled, Rosalyn pulled back. “Who and what was that? You saw it, did you not? I did not imagine him?”