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I take the oars and row. It’s hard work but my training with the Druid is paying off in even more unexpected ways. We’re about halfway across the bay when men on horseback follow their dogs onto the beach. They pull up at the water’s edge and several of them pull rifles.
“Duck, low as you can,” Duncan orders and I lean over as he says.
The rifles fire in unison. A loud crack as bullets ping the water around us. Sitting up I row faster and the boat skims across the water at what seems an almost impossible speed. Where my muscles were exhausted a fresh round of energy pours into them, and I give it my all.
The men on the beach become tiny dots of no concern and even the baying of the hounds is barely discernible. As we pull up on the beach of the mainland, I help Duncan off the boat, and we begin the climb back into the highlands. The mist is thinner but lingering as we travel higher. The sun is fully up when I see a craggy crevasse that offers a place to hide from view.
“Here,” I say, trying to not breathe heavily.
Duncan collapses onto a large flat rock, hunching over and breathing heavily. I look at him full-on for the first time since we fled the Isle. I knew his right arm was broken but now I can see the full extent of his injuries. He’s covered in blood, dirt, and grime, making it hard to tell how bad it is, but what I see is more than enough.
“Quinn, what are you doing here?” he asks, looking up. “You shouldn’t be here. I thought you were safe.”
“I am here,” I say.
“Aye, lass,” he says, brushing my cheek with his left hand. “Aye.”
“I couldn’t—”
I choke and can’t finish the thought. Unable to clear the lump from my throat I shake my head and blink away the impending tears. I grab the hem of my skirts and tear off a section of cloth, then dampen it using my waterskin. Kneeling before Duncan I gently dab at his face and chest.
As the dirt wipes away, the extent of the bruising and swelling comes clear. He winces when I touch his cheek, his eyes are bloodshot. The right eye is black and swollen. His nose is probably broken but has healed enough to not be actively bleeding. His lips are dry and cracked but still I want to kiss him.
“You should have stayed safe,” he whispers. “That’s what kept me alive. Knowing you were safe.”
“Oh, Duncan,” I gasp.
My heart aches and I want nothing more than to hold him. To feel his arms around me as we lie down together and hold each other until all this nightmare goes away. Want and reality couldn’t be further apart. This is far from a safe space, and we have a long journey ahead of us before we’ll be amongst friends. Even when we are, we won’t be safe.
The MacGregor name was outlawed for years. Eventually most of them would change their names and blend back into society. In time the hunting will become less insistent but that is not now. Now every moment we are away from the clan we’re in danger.
And that’s only the human danger.
Lord Nicholas looms large in my thoughts. He’s powerful. So, so powerful. I don’t know if I can take him. Regret is sour in the back of my throat. A metallic taste that I can’t swallow away. I should have stayed with the Druid. I’m not ready for this. What power I have is random and out of control. I left too soon, and in doing so I have made everything worse.
Duncan’s chest is covered with shallow cuts that crisscross randomly. Dirt runs in long rivulets from the cloth and across his skin until at last the dried blood and caked-on dirt is gone. He needs healing, the way I healed Rob. I’m not sure I can, though. I didn’t really control it when I healed Rob, and now, I feel empty. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Quinn,” Duncan breathes my name and my heart beats faster.
He touches my arm, his fingers trailing across my skin, making every hair stand on end. His touch and his voice make me feel lighter, more alive. I open my eyes and he’s smiling, despite the agony he must be experiencing.
“Ach, you’re so beautiful. You’re the bright sun on the Highland cliffs.”
“Silly man,” I say, shaking my head as a tear falls.
Even beaten and bruised he’s beautiful. Maybe it’s the tears but he looks radiant. Shining and sexy and everything light and joyous in the world given form. The tingle of power pools into my core and I clasp his face between my hands.
I can’t resist the attraction between us. He’s a sun and I’m in orbit around him. Drawn to him as sure as the earth pulls down. My hands warm and I let the energy pour into him. He gasps, his lips part, and I don’t hold back.
I kiss him. My lips tingle then go numb. Duncan grabs the back of my head, twisting his fingers in my hair and holding me tight as our mouths work against each other. His tongue pierces the soft flesh of my lips and I let him in.
He reciprocates my magic, echoing it back, but louder. It’s as if our bodies connecting completes a circuit. Energy flows freely between us. There’s a loud snap as his arm pops back into place and the bones heal. He rises to his feet, wrapping me in his embrace, then lifting me up.
His manhood is erect, digging into my lower belly. He has one hand on my ass squeezing, and my breasts are crushed between us as I hug him back. It’s as if we are trying to meld one into another, to become one. I feel giddy, light-headed, ready to fly away together.
Nothing else matters. He is the one. The Fae, the hunters, the Darkness, Dugald and the Fae Queen, none of them make any difference. Here, in Duncan’s arms, there is only us. The two of us are a rock in the swirling storm of chaos that is our world.
The baying of hounds breaks the moment, and we crash back to earth. Duncan drops me onto my feet. We’re left panting, lingering in one another’s arms, but then there are shouts of men to follow the rustling and howling of the dogs. In a wordless exchange we agree to make our way deeper into the crevasse, hoping that we’ll be able to escape at the other end without being caught.
