Page 1 of Unveiled

UNVEILED

Chapter One

Connor

Connor stood on his ancestral land next to a man who called himself king. They were staring at an entire village that had somehow materialised overnight in Connor’s valley.

“What the fuck?” he snarled. “How is this possible?” Beside him, his second-in-command, Fraser Balfour, stood with his mouth open.

“How the fuck indeed,” he echoed.

The fierce winter storm that had brought them all together pounded over the valley. Lightning flashes highlighted the terrain as it vibrated with thunderclaps. Stranger still was the low light hovering over the valley in swirls of orange and blue with flashes of bright white among the mist that hovered above the rooftops of the town that shouldn’t exist.

Connor had known this was no run-of-the-mill storm as he’d gazed out of his castle at fuck o’clock in the early morning. He and Fraser had rushed down to the scene of the activity—and now found something he’d never thought he’d see.

The other man calling himself King had come to investigate the storm for the same reason. Connor now knew him to be the irritating Frenchman named Adrian Gauthier, the recently arrived King of the Gauthier wolfpack across the lake. He glanced over at Connor, his green eyes dancing as wavy auburn curls escaped from his bright blue beanie.

He was a little shorter than Connor, and slimmer. Even in the heavy clothing he wore, Connor could make out the lithe and muscled form, evident in the way the man walked.

“I told you my name,” Adrian said. “Would you do me the pleasantry of giving me yours? I mean we are out here together at three in the morning.” He held out a hand.

Connor had already ignored his outstretched hand once and had no qualms about ignoring it again, manners be damned. The new King hadn’t introduced himself before now, even though he’d been in the valley a couple of weeks. Now he stood on ground that wasn’t his without an invitation. Only a firm shove from Fraser prompted Connor to shake the other King’s hand.

“Connor Brannigan. King of my clan,” he said between gritted teeth. He gestured to Fraser. “Fraser Balfour, my second-in-command.”

Adrian shook hands with Fraser and motioned behind him at the man standing silently. “My companion is Max Flanagan, a guardian from home, and a good man to have by my side in uncertain times like these.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Fraser stepped forward, shaking hands with the two men. “Before we all freeze our balls off and end up with pneumonia, I suggest we leave the clan protocols for later and tackle what’s in front of us.” He scowled. “Or what shouldn’t be in front of us.”

Adrian and Max looked at them in surprise. “What are you saying?” Adrian exclaimed. “Are you sure this place didn’t exist before? Perhaps you didn’t realise it was here. You have a lot of land, Mr Brannigan. Perhaps—”

“I know what’s on my fucking land, Gauthier. The last time I was out this way a couple of weeks ago, that,” Connor pointed, “didn’t exist. The question is, who the hell is going to answer for this?”

Fraser shook his head. “I can’t believe it, Con. It’s a—”

“Fucking village,” Connor snapped. “Someone’s built a fucking village on my land.”

***

The village had an old-world strangeness about it. This wasn’t something built by today’s engineers and architects. This was a place of old-fashioned wood and stone homes that looked as if had been part of the old Scottish landscape of centuries past. Plants and bushes looked too well established for a new build. Metal lanterns glowed on porches and inside the quaint stone-hewn homes, the flickering flames lighting up the darkness.

“Perhaps we should knock on a door and see if we could get some answers?” Adrian suggested. “I’d be happy to be of service investigating this rather curious incident.”

Connor shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. Fraser and I have this under control.”

Adrian gazed at Connor in defiance. “I disagree, Mr. Brannigan. A village appearing on your land is certainly your jurisdiction, but, as our home is only some twenty miles from this location, I owe it to my clan to get answers for this,” he motioned to the village, “and for the unnatural storm that seemed to bring it into being.

“They too are scared and wondering what this weather and strange lights have brought them. As their leader, I promised I’d find answers. What kind of leader would I be if I went home with my tail between my legs and told them I was unable to find out firsthand what the situation was, letting your pack take charge of something that may affect us all?”

Fraser masked a muffled snort, but when Connor turned to glare at him, his friend’s face was innocence unvarnished.

After a minute, Connor stepped forward, gesturing towards the flickering torch lights in the distance. “Fine,” he said gruffly. “Follow us and stay well behind.” He motioned to Fraser. “Come on, let’s see if we can find someone who can explain what the fuck is going on.”

He stomped off, but heard Fraser murmur to Adrian, “Well done,” he murmured. “Round one to you.”

The bastard was siding with Gauthier?

Connor strode farther into the village, the other men at his heels. Fraser cleared his throat. “Those houses don’t look as if they’ve been built recently,” he muttered. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were centuries old. How the fuck does that happen, eh?”