Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends #1)(91)



Thundering hooves drowned out the overhead storm, clods of earth flying up at every strike. Adrenaline pumped hot through my veins as excitement charged the atmosphere. Images of the impending battle teased my thoughts as raw muscle flexed in fluid motion beneath me.

Our tribe of men galloped southward for nearly an hour. Gradually our progress slowed, hindered by the thickening forest. We wove through trees and scrub. I cut to the left, urging Malibu forward until we joined Velloc near the front of our group. He eased up on his reins and edged closer, gazing at me with penetrating eyes.

“This is the battle, then,” I said. “You’re taking the fight to the Romans before the harvest.”

He nodded once. “No enemy will claim victory over a people who refuse to give up the land. They are uninvited, making themselves comfortable in our home.” He flashed a wicked smile. “We will make it very uncomfortable.”

I laughed. “If you plan half the attack I witnessed on your scouting mission, I’ve no doubt they’ll think twice about crashing the party.”

Velloc stared at me until his lips pressed into a thin line, his shoulders shaking with laughter. I’d adapted the phrase to his dialect, but nothing escaped his quick wit. I laughed with him, enjoying the miniscule time we had to rebond before more serious matters took away the opportunity.

We slowed our mounts to a walk, and the group continued to pass us a few yards to our right.

“You miss your Iain?” Velloc asked.

I glanced over. Velloc faced forward, negotiating his horse through a rocky stream. Mixing the two worlds in my head messed with my mind and emotions. I’d endeavored to keep the two separate. When one man asked about the other, my struggle to maintain composure amplified tenfold. Common sense dictated they know as little about each other as possible. Each of our emotional needs, however, took precedence over steadfast rules and assumptions. A part of me yearned to talk about the difficulties plaguing me, but I had no one to talk about them with other than my men. Velloc needed to know how I felt and where he stood. And he had asked.

“I do miss him.” I took a shaky breath. “He left to fight a smaller battle. Right before I left, the enemy captured him.” The words choked me, my throat cramping on a held sob.

Velloc stopped and pivoted his horse. Malibu jolted to a halt with a whinny. “Iain is chieftain of your tribe?”

“Yes.” I frowned. “What does that mean, Velloc? What will they do to him?”

He stared hard at me. “They will keep him alive as long as they need him.”

I nodded. So many things went unsaid with Velloc’s statement, and my fear running rampant refused to clarify them. Alive had so many variations. What would become of Iain when they no longer found him useful? Velloc had satisfied his curiosity about my state of mind, and I had no desire to prolong my pain. I negotiated Malibu around him, following the others disappearing into the forest.

Velloc advanced on my mare so fast, I had no time to process the movement before I found myself swept onto the ground. A strong embrace kept me upright as my head spun.

He buried his face into my hair. “Isobel,” he whispered.

The soothing coo of my name feathered over my ear like warm sunshine on a bitter morning. I exhaled, melting into his arms. Tears cascaded down my face, unchecked. I hurt. In my denial, in my perseverance, and in the rush of activity around me, I hadn’t allowed myself to grieve for the loss. The brave man that held me saw my need, forcing me to lean on him.

So many things had been stolen from me: a modern life with dreams I’d had since childhood, a husband and clan I’d grown to love, and the free will to decide what I wanted my life to become. But dwelling on problems had seemed unproductive and immaterial in light of the life and death battles Velloc’s warriors and their people dealt with on a daily basis.

Velloc tightened his embrace. “Why did you come back early? Because they’d taken him?”

Explanations of liquid walls with beaming lights transporting me through layered dimensions fell beyond the scope of the energy I possessed, so I stuck with the simplest explanation. “I . . .”

I faltered in getting the right words out of my head. How do you streamline the fantastical? Velloc already knew I’d time traveled and had come from the future. One more stretch of his imagination would allow him to relate to me on my level. To have Velloc know my successes and failures in the magick that surrounded me would set free the part of me I’d locked up tight out of fear.

“I’d been charged with keeping the clan safe. Iain believed I could. A large wall, very much like the box, transports not only me through time, but also . . . an entire village.”

I paused as he pulled back. His attentive eyes gazed down at me, and I knew he understood.

“When I placed my hand on the wall, exactly as Iain instructed, the transfer began, but I hadn’t braced my feet before touching the surface. I hadn’t expected its power to make me dizzy, and in an attempt not to fall, I dropped my other hand on the wall also. The power it contained grabbed hold of me and threw me back to you.”

A sob tore free as emotion lanced a fresh wound into my heart.

“I was supposed to make them safe!” My anguish-laced words were barely coherent as I buried my face into his chest.

Velloc eased away, tipping a finger under my chin. I blinked away tears, clearing my vision. His eyes searched mine. Gentle, callused fingers brushed against my temple as he tucked windblown locks of hair behind my ear.

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