Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5) Read online

  Her vision dimmed, clouded in the white fog of the dragon as he thrust harder, faster, his pace far more determined. Torra didn’t recognize the keen that began deep down inside as her body started to shake violently. The dragon was thrashing from within.

  But whatever sparked to life inside her didn’t threaten Colin in the least.

  Insatiable, he faced all that poured from her. And never once did he stop his relentless pursuit of taking her. When she roared and bucked, he held her down tightly. When her fire became more intense than his, he still didn’t shy away.

  Then suddenly he thrust so hard that her world exploded. Pure bliss locked her body up so tightly that she released a long, low keen. At the same time, he released a loud roar of equal pleasure. Eyes frozen wide open, she watched as fire and hot wind thrashed so wildly around them that the ocean downright steamed away from their bodies.

  Torra couldn’t form a coherent thought as her muscles became a coiling mass for several long, uncontrollable moments then released in a rapid series of sharp throbs that hammered every bone in her vulnerable body. Petrified even amidst such profound unparalleled pleasure, fear overwhelmed her. Was she shifting into a dragon? Was this it? Could she not lie with Colin without such happening?

  Tears rolled down her cheeks even as he released her hands, tucked one arm beneath her neck and brought his other arm beside her. He anchored her shoulder down with a strong, comforting hand. Like her, he was incapable of speech as he throbbed and quaked against her. Arms useless, she pressed her cheek to his, relishing the feel of his burning skin against hers.

  The dragon thrashed then shuddered against her mind, its pleasure obvious.

  For a flicker of a moment it seemed she looked into its fiery white eyes before it faded.

  Her vision ever so slowly returned to normal.

  Colin continued to hold her until he eventually kissed her cheek and whispered hoarsely in her ear, “Ye did it, lass. Ye didnae let the dragon take ye where ye were not willing to go.”

  Torra was still incapable of speech as he rolled off her and pulled her against him, her front to his front. He flung a heavy, possessive leg over hers and tucked her head beneath his chin. Safe yet surprisingly free, she tucked her hands up high on his chest and curled into him as seawater rushed around them.

  Hot by nature, and even hotter because of their passion, the cold water was soothing as it pushed and pulled around her body. The storm clouds were gradually rolling away as was the talkative thunder, leaving a deep, vibrating sound in its intermittent wake. Lightning flashed over the sea and flickered white over the ocean foam frothing around them.

  Torra felt new and different. Not just because she lost her virginity but because as Colin had said so proudly, she once more controlled the beast within. Still not exactly sure how she’d done such, it mattered little.

  She had done it.

  Her thoughts drifted. She was more content and far freer than ever before. Things were coming full circle and she only grew more confident. But never could she have felt this way if not for Colin MacLeod.

  Dewy, almost dreamy eyes turned his way, she said the last thing she should at that moment but had been curious for so long. “What did Keir show you of me that you would agree to leave your clan…leave me, for so verra long?”

  Colin considered her words. “Does it truly matter lass? What is done is done.”

  She clenched her jaw. “I think mayhap it does. Might it not aide us in this war against him if I…the dragon, knows precisely how he could destroy me?”

  An unnamable pain flickered in Colin’s eyes as they remained locked with hers. She felt the war inside his soul, a hurt that he was more than willing to carry to his grave so that she might not suffer it. Long moments passed as he contemplated her request until, so it seemed, he came to a conclusion.

  Mayhap it was moisture left behind by the rain or sea water in his eyes, but Colin’s gaze was more moist than usual. He ran his hand up her side to the tender area beneath her arm that was soft and free of ribs. “When in the form of the dragon, ye are most vulnerable in only two places.” He pressed against the delicate flesh. “Here.” Then his hand moved to the opposite side and pressed in the same location. “And here.”

  Though her body shivered and responded to the feel of his hand on her skin, her mind recoiled. Somehow she knew her own vulnerability when in her alternate form. “When my wings are spread.”

  “Aye,” he murmured. “‘Tis a verra small area on either side free of scales, free of protection. Keir showed me brutal ways he could kill ye because of those areas.”

  No doubt he did. Torra remembered well the look of horror on Colin’s face when Keir showed him. She took a deep, measured breath and nodded. “Thank you.” But her eyes narrowed. “Yet I wonder…”

  When she trailed off, Colin kept a steady eye on her, as if he had expected her words. “Aye, lass.”

  “Everything Keir Hamilton does is done so with uncanny foresight. Do I believe my dragon vulnerable in those spots? Aye. But do I believe Keir would show you everything he knows of my weaknesses? Nay. ‘Twould be foolish to think such.”

  “Aye,” Colin agreed, pride once more in his eyes as he looked at her. “It seems as every moment passes ye think more and more like not only the clever lass ye are but the dragon as well.”

  Torra appreciated his vote of confidence but realized that her thoughts needed to be far cleverer than the lot of them. Even Iosbail and Adlin MacLomain’s.

  “At last you embrace the dragon within for all it is…for all you are,” Naðr whispered into her mind.

  “Mayhap I do,” Torra whispered back.

  And though she said nothing aloud of her words with the Viking King, Colin seemed to understand simply by looking into her eyes. Fire flared within his gaze, as not a warm, but almost dark smile curled his lips. “We will fight Keir with all we have, my lass and if that doesnae fry his arse, then I will chase him into the afterlife and challenge the bloody bastard until eternity tires of me.”

  Torra cupped his cheek and knew the grin that curled her lips was just as sinister. “With me at your back, love. With dragon fire at your back.”

  Colin cocked his head as if he sensed something. With a flick of his wrist, they were clothed an instant before Grant appeared.

  “Bloody hell but did you find yourself a desolate spot.”

  With a quick brush against Colin’s lips, Torra smiled at her cousin as he walked toward them. “Grant, good to see you, cousin.”

  “Aye, sorry to search you out but Iosbail seeks us all.”

  Torra did her best to ignore her shaking legs and the never-ending throb between her thighs as Colin pulled her up. Yet despite the serious nature of both Colin and Grant, she couldn’t help but smile. Gods, did she feel good even with all the hardship ahead. This time she flicked her wrist and their clothes dried.

  As they started walking back in the direction of the Broun castle, she didn’t miss the grin Grant quirked at Colin and especially didn’t miss the warm smile her cousin directed at her. “‘Twas good that fight betwixt you and Valan. Even in the short time you’ve been gone there has been much healing.”

  “That’s good,” Colin said.

  “Aye, ‘tis good indeed,” she murmured, thoughts half consumed by what lay ahead and half consumed by the man at her side.

  “I truly believe Valan will help us,” Grant said.

  Torra felt the unsureness in her cousin’s voice though. So, it seemed, did Colin when his eyes swung Grant’s way. “But you have reservations.”

  “I have concerns,” Grant allowed, eyes on the sea as he murmured, “Even though I called him friend for many years prior.”

  Grant had done so much for her and had grown into his powers as a wizard with good reason, not because of magic alone but because he was exceptionally observant.

  “Share your thoughts then,” Torra said. “Because if you dinnae ‘twill only hurt us I’m sure.”

  Her
cousin gave no immediate response as they walked until he finally did. “What is it for a lad to grow up beneath Keir Hamilton’s rule, to truly ken his evil, only to give into his own baser emotions and throw those he’s come to care most about back to the man he despises?”

  Colin was about to respond, but Grant shook his head and continued. “Do I believe in absolute forgiveness? Aye. But ‘tis a rare thing. And though I’ve been in Valan’s mind and even outright asked him such, I still wonder at him running into Torra to begin with at the Defiance. ‘Tis especially alarming considering his Da sought her. But he claims ‘twas coincidence and that his actions were never on behalf of Keir.”

  His eyes turned to them. “I wouldnae be where I am if I didnae practice forgiveness so will give Valan the benefit of the doubt.” Grant’s eyes shimmered with magic. “But ‘tis a thin thread of faith I have in our renewed friendship despite Torra’s dragon magic allowing us within his mind. After all, he is a warlock.” Grant’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Embrace him but always keep your eyes open, aye?”

  Torra and Colin nodded, neither giving a response. She knew Grant above all least deserved the harm Valan had done him, but then she also knew her cousin would not doubt another without good reason.

  “This fold in time you created,” Grant said to Torra. “How do you know when it ends? I realize ‘twas necessary to rally Valan and now you’ve done such. ‘Twas also necessary to convince Iosbail to your cause and have her and Leslie connect. Has that not been accomplished as well?”

  Torra raised a brow at her cousin. “Do you think Iosbail is fond enough of Leslie yet?”

  Grant flicked his wrist and the air buckled slightly. Now instead of walking on the shore they were walking alongside the castle. He nodded at the field. “Aye, I’d say so.”

  The women had their arms flung around one another’s shoulders and were clanking their mugs as they laughed. Malcolm and Valan were sparring. Sheila watched with a surprisingly critical eye. Torra smiled. These Brouns from the future had certainly embraced medieval Scotland and its many facets.

  “Colin and I will need to be at the baby oak before time once more unfolds,” Torra said. “But first, there is one more place we must go.”

  As if Iosbail sensed where Torra’s thoughts were heading, her eyes turned in their direction. They didn’t need to exchange words as Iosbail nodded. The Broun spoke to Leslie and Sheila, and then Valan and Malcolm. All nodded and headed their way.

  It was time to once more travel through time.

  Still a ways from one another, Torra and Iosbail started to chant. Though clearly curious, it wasn’t long before Grant started to chant as well. The air warped and shimmered. The smell of burning sugar filled the air. The ground fell out from beneath them.

  Until it reappeared and they thumped to the ground.

  “Well, I didnae expect this!”

  “Och, bloody hell if you didnae,” Iosbail said.

  Adlin MacLomain shook his head, eyes merry. “Mayhap you’re right sister. Mayhap I knew you couldnae help yourself.”

  Chapter Ten

  Northern Scotland

  Home of the original Highland Defiance

  1254

  Torra couldn’t help but tremble as Colin pulled her to her feet. He once more wore his clan’s plaid and it almost felt as if the past four years melted away as she looked around. This is where they’d traveled to meet with one another. It seemed the MacLeod was as profoundly affected as her when he pulled her close.

  “We’re back,” she murmured against his chest.

  “Aye,” he said softly. “But must set aside our emotions for now lass.”

  Overly aware of his urgency, she gazed around. As planned, Valan, Grant, Sheila, Leslie, and Bradon were with them. Iosbail’s presence surprised her, as did the presence of a blond lass. But she knew none of them caused the distinct tension in the MacLeod’s voice. Nay, it was another person altogether.

  Her brother, Colin MacLomain.

  “I dinnae ken,” the MacLomain laird growled as his eyes landed on Valan. “How are you here?”

  Colin MacLomain and Valan unsheathed their swords at the same time. The remaining men drew their blades as well. All froze when Adlin stepped between them, his voice strong and powerful as he looked at his descendants and the Hamilton. “‘Twill be no warring lads. You are brought here at this time so that you might better ken the importance of being allied.”

  “Allied?” Colin MacLomain said incredulously as his eyes narrowed on Valan. “He meant to kill my lass.” He frowned. “And again, how are you here when I ended your life?”

  “Look to your sister. She resurrected me. As to your lass, she isnae dead, aye?” Valan bit back. “Was she naught but an illusion?”

  “Aye,” her brother said. “One that alerted me you had discovered her presence. You told me much of your Da, Keir Hamilton and I knew you’d betrayed me.”

  Valan’s eyes narrowed. “Did it not once occur to you that I meant to seek out the lass so that I might be able to protect you both? No matter how much I despised him I will always be able to sense my Da.” His eyes flew to Colin MacLeod then back to her brother. “I knew the moment Keir made the MacLeod mentally connect with McKayla. That she used the MacLeod name in her novel. ‘Twas always my Da’s intention that so much of this happened as it did…even my part in it all.”

  Torra heard the pain in Valan’s voice. “‘Twas always likely Keir’s intention that you murder me so that he would have the perfect excuse to rise up against the MacLomains. I was forever a disposable pawn in his ruthless game.”

  When her brother’s brows drew down in confusion, Torra pushed everything that had happened over the past day into his mind. She showed him the unusual dynamics between her, Valan and the MacLeod. His shocked eyes swung to her. “Och, lass. So much you didnae share.”

  “It all had to go just as it did so that we might arrive at this moment,” she said. “Please know that I didnae keep such secrets to cause you pain.”

  The MacLomain slowly lowered his blade. A myriad of emotions crossed his face as he shook his head. “‘Tis hard this.”

  “But it need not be, my lad.” Adlin held out his hand. “‘Tis good to finally meet you, Colin MacLomain. Do you know who I am then?”

  Not an old man but a young, strapping Highlander, Adlin had clearly traveled forward in time from the distant past.

  The MacLomain laird blinked several times as he looked at Adlin. Emotion warmed her when Torra saw the recognition on her brother’s face. There was nothing but absolute awe and respect in his eyes when he finally shook the proffered hand, muttering, “Bloody hell, ‘tis you.”

  Colin MacLomain had long wanted to meet his patriarch, Adlin. In fact, he’d traveled to the twenty-first century to do so but was drawn to McKayla instead.

  Sheila grinned as she held hands with Grant. “I knew this day would come!”

  “You always do,” Leslie said through a smile, clearly happy to once more have Bradon with her.

  “All right, I hoped it would,” Sheila conceded.

  “No need to hope, lass.” Adlin cocked a smile at her. “Did you not ask for such when you traveled back in time to my castle?”

  “Did you then?” Colin MacLomain’s grateful eyes turned Sheila’s way.

  Sheila offered a sheepish grin and shrugged. “Might have.”

  “Thank you,” he replied kindly.

  Adlin rubbed his hands together in anticipation, eyes covering all in one fell swoop. “Those who are here have been brought hence with good reason.” His brow perked at Iosbail. “And one it seems out of mere curiosity.” But his gaze softened. “‘Tis truly good to see you, sister.”

  Iosbail considered him for a long moment. “Aye, I suppose it must be.” Then her eyes narrowed a fraction before widening. “You knew all along I’d follow them. ‘Tis partly because of our visit here that I eventually join with your clan so that all might go as it does.”

  “No doubt it
leads to such an end.” Adlin winked. “But I will give you this sister; it warms my heart that we will live beneath the same roof in our later years.”

  Torra suspected Adlin kept the reason behind their aging process away from her. After all, she could not yet learn of her one true love, Alexander Sinclair, or so many things could go wrong.

  As if he heard her thoughts, Adlin’s gaze turned to Torra. Both respect and love lit his eyes as he walked over. Colin MacLeod stepped away when Adlin took her hands and simply stared into her eyes for a long moment. “You have done so verra well, lass. I cannae tell you how proud I am.”

  His eyes shone a bright, brilliant blue then faded back to their typical striking pale blue. A small knowing smile met his lips. “Please say hello to my Da, King Erc and King Naðr Véurr. Thank them for all their support and assistance.”

  Torra felt King Erc’s deep, wordless emotions within her mind.

  “Your Da loves you so verra much and is prouder than you know,” Torra whispered and squeezed Adlin’s hands. “You will meet him someday.”

  A light layer of moisture sheened the arch wizard’s eyes and he swallowed hard. “Aye, ‘tis good.”

  Gathering himself, Adlin stepped away and turned his attention to the blond woman, his eyes then going to everyone else. “Though Sheila and Grant have already met her, allow me to introduce my friend, Meyla. From 9th century Scandinavia, she is daughter to the Viking King, Naðr Véurr and,” his eyes specifically went to Torra, Bradon and Colin MacLomain, “your great-grandmother.”

  Surprised, they stared at the beautiful young woman.

  “Meyla was kind enough to return through the Viking tapestry so that she might travel here now and better explain how Grant’s sword, that given to him by her Da, can further help you in your battle against Keir Hamilton.”