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Chapter Nineteen – Freya

I determined to keep my distance from Colin after our afternoon in the garden. Only a fool would lose her heart to her family’s greatest enemy. Yet, when I entered the great hall that night, the sight of Colin by the dais twirling a young lass around stilled me and tugged at my heart. And despite myself, I watched him and thought he would make a good da. He was just as gentle with the little lass as he was with me.

Behind me came the sound of someone clearing their throat. I glanced over my shoulder to find Katherine staring at me. “Ye like him.”

“I do nae,” I protested and started toward across the Great Hall toward the dais, but I was hobbling from having kneeled all day. To my irritation, she quickly caught up with me. The problem was, I did like him, but I did not want to. I could not allow it.

“A raven has come with a missive for ye from yer sister,” Katherine said.

I stopped in my tracks and looked to her and the scroll she clutched in her hands. She extended the missive to me. I took the missive; aware I should wait to open it. I was standing in the middle of the great hall, after all. But I couldn’t wait. I trembled as I opened the missive. Whether my sister revealed Da had known of the attack or he hadn’t, the news would hurt me. I loved my da, but I wanted Colin to have been truthful as well. It could not be both ways. I knew that well.

Freya,

Bran attacked Dunscaith without Da’s knowledge, but Da learned the truth from Yennifer right away and lied for Bran, thus starting the war anew. Da kens Colin was nae the first to break the alliance, but he will go back to war instead of confessing it and losing Eilean Donnan to Colin. Use the information as ye must. I discovered the truth by eavesdropping, so there is nae proof for the king but my word. Yennifer is horrid as ever, but I am fine.

I looked up, surprised to see Colin standing in front of me beside his sister.

“Freya?” he asked, extending his hand slowly to my face and brushing away—I realized with a start—tears. “What does yer sister say?”

I could not answer. Too much emotion choked me. I looked down to finish the missive.

I am safe. Do nae forget me. I want to be with you when the war is over.

Love,

Vanora

“Freya, what did yer sister say?” he repeated gently.

The betrayal, the sadness choked me. I looked up and met his questioning gaze. I had been forsaken by my da for this stronghold. I had been kidnapped. Abused. Wed first for the alliance and then for the power of my terrible curse. Never for me. And was Colin any different? He’d kidnapped and wed me for my visions, just as the others had. Heat rose in me and with it my heartbeat. Yes, he had been kind and careful with me, but what sort of fool was I to think that had to do with any sort of feelings for me? If I never could conjure a vision again, he’d not want me. I had been disposable to my own da, after all. I shoved the missive at him, desperate to get away, be alone. When he took it, I turned and fled. I ran down the length of the rows of tables of Colin’s clansmen, burst through the doors of the Great Hall, and ran down the torch lit passage toward the courtyard.

I needed air. I was suffocating.

“Freya!”

Colin’s voice filled the great hall, but I pushed myself harder, wanting to get away from him, from any man who had used me, who had wanted me for nothing more than what they could gain. I would never have the love I’d wanted. I’d taken what didn’t belong to me, and I would pay the rest of my life for that terrible decision. I burst into the courtyard gulping the air, but it wasn’t enough. I could not breathe. I doubled over, grabbing at my throat, crying.

“Freya,” Colin said. I felt his presence behind me, close enough to touch, close enough to suffocate me. His heat. His breath. I could feel it all. Concern threaded through his voice, but to me, it rang as false as the words of my da. Lies upon lies, lies all of it, and nothing more. A surge of anger engulfed me, the heat of it searing through me like molten iron. I whirled to face him, fury lancing my body into motion.

The anguish carved into his features served only to stoke the fire of my rage, feeding it, making it blaze. The truth of his words—that he had not broken the alliance—did not penetrate my haze of hurt. No, not when all I could feel was betrayal. Not when all I could feel was the pain of treachery. It lay too thick upon me, the double betrayal of Colin and my da, as if they conspired together to wound me as deeply as they could. Their combined deception cut all at once, a sharp, unbearable blade. I had no true home to return to, I had no husband to comfort me, to love me. The anguish of it swamped my senses, and I could not withstand it.

“Ye want my visions?” I shrieked, my voice breaking over the words. “Take them. Quit pretending with me. Ye do nae care for me. Ye care only for how I can be used for yer advantage. Just like my da.”

Cruel desperation fueled my words, despair and heartbreak mingling in the wild intensity of my cry. “Here are my visions,” I screamed. “Here are yer precious visions!”

I clasped my hands to his face, forcing the visions to come, forcing my gift to unleash itself, to pour forth. Light, harsh and blinding, consumed my sight. I was drowning in it, a world of nothing but light. I willed it to be so. Light became everything, everywhere, and for a moment, it was all I saw and all I knew. I fell, twisting inside it, directionless and lost. I fell, and when everything finally went white, an army of horses appeared, thundering…

Flapping in the wind at the head of the army was the MacLeod crest. The warriors rode hard, faces grim with determination. Suddenly, Eilean Donnan appeared in the distance under the full moon. Then I was looking at Bran. “Taking the castle will be easy,” he crowed. “The fool has nae rebuilt the wall. And look, the bridge is down.”

Everything went back to white, then blinding light, before I stared at Colin, looking down at me, his gaze full of false concern. I dropped my hands from his face, heart thundering as hard as the horses had been. Exhaustion swept over me as I stared at him. “Ye must fix the bridge immediately and the wall. Bran will attack on the next full moon, and if the bridge is down, he will ride in and take the stronghold.”

“Freya,” Colin said, reaching for me.

I stepped back out of his grasp. “I will give ye my visions when they come. I will try to conjure them, too. I do nae have loyalty for my da now. But stop the lies,” I begged, inhaling a sharp breath, understanding only in this moment, Colin had given me hope. I’d started to hope that between us, maybe, possibly—I was a fool. A na?ve, gullible, desperate fool. “Go away,” I said, my voice low and so weary to my own ears. “Ye have what ye want, leave me b—”

“Damn ye,” he said, took me gently by the arms and pulled me to him. “I do nae care about the visions anymore. I care about ye. I want ye. And nae for the damned visions. I crave ye. I do nae want to, but I can nae seem to stop it. I’ll let ye go this moment, if ye ask it of me, but if ye do nae, if ye do nae tell me to release ye, I’m going to kiss ye. I’m going to kiss ye if ye’ll let me, if ye do nae fear me still, because kissing ye fills my every thought. I wake with it in my head. I go to sleep with it in my head. And then I dream of it. The desire haunts me. Ye haunt me.”

“Kiss me then,” I said, my voice husky, stomach fluttering, and my body tingling. I flung caution to the wind, and I allowed the hope that he had created to flow through me. His hands came to my face, so gentle, so careful. My belly tightened with the glide of his fingertips against my skin.

Ever so slowly, he traced my upper lip and then my lower with his thumb. The tightness in my belly increased and a pulsing yearning sprang up in my core. He pressed his lips to my forehead, then my nose, and then his lips whispered across mine like a caress. There was no fear in me. Only desire. He was, I understood, going slowly to ensure I was not scared. That made me want his kiss more. I raised my hands to his body and trailed them slowly up his powerful forearms, over his biceps and to his shoulders. Never had I willingly touched a man. The heat in me burned so hot for him I panted.

He ran his tongue over my upper lip, then the lower one, and then across the crease of my mouth. I opened it instinctually. I wanted him there inside my mouth. I wanted to taste him, learn him. The ache he had sprung within me grew more intense with each caress of his lips to mine and when our tongues met and swirled, the need grew almost painful, unbearable. He sucked my lower lip between his teeth and then my upper lip, and I gripped his shoulders, digging my nails into his flesh and pulling him closer until he was pressed fully against me—hardness to softness.

“I want to show ye pleasure,” he whispered at my ear.

I nodded, because I could not speak. The need in me for him was too great. I did not fear what was to come. This was different than any encounter I had ever had. He had sparked something in me I had only ever dreamed of. His lips captured mine fully, and his kiss became more intense. But I met the passion he showed me with a depth of need and want that surprised me.

When he broke the kiss a muffled cry of protest came from me, but then his lips came to my neck to trail hot kisses down it all the way to the top of my chest and the skin that was exposed there. I felt the bodice of my gown tugged down ever so slightly and for a moment I tensed as memories of rough touches flooded me, but then his tongue traced ever so lightly over the burning sensitive flesh of my breasts and pleasure exploded within me. It flooded my veins to go to every limb, my heart, and my head. I threaded my hands in his hair as my nipples hardened and pressed his head down wanting him to go lower.

“Nae here,” he whispered, capturing my mouth before I could protest and lifting me into his arms. He was walking, I knew, by the movement I felt, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care who might see us. I cared only about feeling his lips on mine, his body on mine, and experiencing pleasure instead of pain, desire instead of dread, hope instead of despair.

He broke the kiss at the castle door and slipped one arm out from under me to open the door. We were inside in a breath, up the stairs and to the bedchamber door without seeing another person. He paused at the door, set me on my feet, then captured my hand, as he opened the door and gently pulled me inside. I hadn’t been nervous, but in that moment, I tensed.

He paused and turned to me, releasing my hand to face me and brush my hair back from my face to tuck it behind my ear. “Lass, if ye have changed yer mind that’s alright. I will—”

“Nay,” I said, taking his hand and placing it over my thundering heart. My other husbands had never tried to earn my trust, but Colin had. He had told me the truth about the alliance, and I believed he would never hurt me. I trusted him. I could trust him. As I stared into his eyes, I saw only concern and tenderness. “I have only known pain in the marriage bed. I want to know pleasure.”

He nodded slowly. “Ye’re certain?”

I was. My heart had been crushed by my da’s betrayal, but his betrayal, I now realized, had opened a new door. I was wed to Colin. I wanted our marriage to have the chance to be real, and true, and something wonderful. He lowered his lips to mine and brushed a gentle kiss on them before the kiss turned more urgent and exploratory. Our tongues tangled as they had before in the courtyard, and the thrill of it shot through my body and started a pulsing need at my core.

He kissed his way down the right side of my neck and up my left then down again until he was at the edge of my bodice, and there he ran his tongue along the edge of my gown, over the exposed skin until I was moaning, and a sweet torturous pain grew in me. I ran my hands over his back, reveling in the strength I felt there and committing how his body was shaped, how he felt under my fingertips, to memory.

My breasts grew heavy, and my body trembled with an aching desire that his lips and hands were creating. He turned me slowly, whispering words to me as his hands came to the back of my gown to undo the laces. “Ye are so beautiful, lass,” he whispered, slowly slipping my gown from one shoulder then the other. It hung at my arms until he turned me toward him, and the desire on his face took my breath. “Ye have a smile that lights up the room,” he said, taking one of my arms out of the gown. “And yer laugh is the most magical sound,” he said, taking my other arm out of the gown then sliding it down over my hips to drop at the floor.

Cool air instantly hit my skin, causing gooseflesh to pop up on my arms. He pulled me close and enfolded me in the circle of his arms until our bodies were molded to each other. I pressed my cheek to his chest and was shocked at the hammering beat of his own heart. I smiled to think I had the ability to cause desire in him like he was in me. His heat slowly warmed me, and I wrapped my arms around his waist wanting to somehow get closer. That’s when I felt the faint trembling of his own body. I pulled back and looked up at him to find him staring down at me with a look that promised pleasure to come. “Are ye cold?” I asked .

“Nay.”

“But yer trembling.”

He smiled slowly. “Aye. I tremble with need for ye, lass. I want to be slow and mindful, but my body wants ye now.”

That he was restraining himself for me was the greatest gift and emboldened me. I untangled myself from his arms, stepped back, and slowly drew my underclothing off one shoulder and the other. The material fell to the floor around my feet in a puddle. Never had I undressed out of a desire to for a man. I felt exposed but also freer than I ever had in my life. My blood rushed through my veins to pulse at my temples and roar in my ears.

“Ye have given me a gift,” I told him.

He cocked his eyebrows up at me.

“Ye have given me enough confidence to stand here in front of ye without fear.”

“Lass,” he said, “I’m going to give ye many more gifts tonight and each and every one will be my pleasure.” He rid himself of his braies and plaid in a breath, and then he stood before me naked. I had never looked truly at any of my other husbands. I’d almost always squeezed my eyes shut and wish to be anywhere else, but here with him, I took him in slowly, bit by bit, savoring the ability to do so. He stood still, as if he knew I needed this moment, and I did.

I allowed my gaze to move down, a slow and hesitant descent like rainwater trickling, over the broad expanse of his chest, gliding across his taut abdomen, and following along to his narrow hips. There my eyes stopped and lingered, and heat kissed my face, blooming with warmth and a tell-tale flush. Between his legs was the proof of his desire for me, bold and unashamed, and it nearly took my breath away. I knew this would be different. I understood it absolutely and deeply, to my core and my marrow and my blood. Colin was powerfully built, but that was not the whole of it. He would be gentle, gentle in ways that no one else had been, tender in his strength.

I stepped to him, a timid step then another more assured, and traced my hands over his chest. My fingers caressed his stomach, and with bolder abandon ventured down to his staff. My breath caught in my throat, and I gasped, the ache between my legs growing almost unbearable, a delicious torment, as I touched him there. He was hot, smooth as river stone, and it was wondrous to me, astonishing and dazzling, to think what it might be like to have him in me. He made no sound save a sharp intake of breath when I first touched him, but when I began to run my hand up and down the length of his staff, an animalistic, raw, guttural groan ripped from him. He became harder, thicker, and longer, and more alive in my hand. A wild feeling of control ripped through me as well, like a storm or a surge, and with it came a realization, bright and profound. This was one of his gifts to me—power over him, power over how we proceeded, the assurance that I would not be powerless, not in this nor ever again.

A new ache sprang up within me, but it was in my chest. Colin had breached my defenses, and I was in danger of losing my heart to him. I raised on my tiptoes with the new frightening knowledge, and I pressed a kiss to his lips. He returned it with a passion that took my breath, but he did not make a move to touch me. “I want to pleasure ye,” I said and glanced down at his manhood before meeting his gaze once more. “Will ye tell me what to do?”

His eyes widened and then he offered a sinful smile. “Lass, ye were already doing it.”

“The rubbing ye up and down?” I asked.

“Aye,” he said, the word husky. “I want ye to do all ye wish, but I warn ye, it will take me a moment to recover if ye bring me to full pleasure, but there are things I would do for ye in return while I recover.”

I frowned. “What sort of things?”

His lips parted, and he stared for a moment, before he closed his lips and then spoke. “Have ye nae had any pleasure in the bed ever?”

I shook my head.

“If ye will allow me, I’ll touch ye with the greatest care and give ye pleasure with my mouth and hands before we join, which will make ye all the more ready for me, and that, lass will make the joining verra good.”

“I’ll let ye,” I said, “but ye’ll tell me what ye’re doing as ye do it?”

He grinned. “For as long as I can talk. Ye have my vow.”

I started to stroke him once more, and as he groaned and grew even thicker and harder, I had a desire to replace my bad memories of the past with new, good ones. “Would ye like me to pleasure ye with my mouth?”

He had his eyes closed and his head thrown back. It took him moment to lift his head and look at me. “Aye, but I do nae want ye to feel—”

I pressed a fingertip to his lips, knowing even though I’d not let him finish the sentence that he was thinking of me and my fears. “I’m in control of what I’m doing. What I’m offering. Do ye wish to take me up on my offer?”

“By the gods, aye,” he said.

I kneeled then slid my hand up his muscled thigh and around to his firm buttocks to grasp him there and tug him close. He groaned again, but I knew it was a sound of pleasure. I took him into my mouth first by the tip, testing my reaction, but it was one of excitement, wonder, and unchained desire. With a slide of my mouth, I found the boundaries of what I could take, and then I began to pleasure him. But the more pleasure I gave him, the more pleasure I gained, until I was panting, aching, and bursting with need. When he gave a shout and pulled back, I knew he was at his release. I held tight and took him in, wanting all of him because I had chosen it.

For one breath silence fell, and then he kneeled before me. “Thank ye,” he said, holding out his hands to help me up. I placed my hands in his, and he helped me to my feet, released me immediately, and then fetched a goblet of wine. I thought it was for him, so when he handed it to me, I blinked in surprise.

“Thank ye,” I said, taking it, once again touched by his consideration for me.

“’Tis the least I can do after what ye just did for me.” He took my hand and walked me to the bed and helped me onto it. I lay on my back, and he stood at the edge of the bed looking down at me.

“Is it like this always with, with ye. Give and take? Gentleness?”

His eyes became hooded for one moment, before he blinked and looked directly at me again. “I have only ever been with my wife, but it was like that with her. And it will be like that between us.”

“Ye have nae had a woman since yer wife’s death?”

“Nay. I did nae have the desire to—until ye.” That breach upon my heart grew bigger in that moment. “I’m going to kiss ye now. All over. And I’ll be needing to spread yer thighs—”

“What for?” I interrupted, not alarmed, but a tad nervous. I knew what for, truly, but still… I wanted his words, which I knew would calm me.

“For loving ye properly. ”

I knew he meant pleasure, yet my heart tugged at his use of the word love. I was like dough in his hands at this moment. I nodded. “Alright.”

The bed dipped, swaying beneath the weight of him as he settled on it, coming to me with a tenderness that could melt the hardest heart. For a moment, he was still, a soft breath escaping his lips as he lowered himself to me, his need so evident in the way his hands trembled ever so slightly. True to his word, he took my foot in his hand, lips pressing with the gentleness of a spring breeze on its tender arch. One of his hands gripped the curve of my ankle as he began to move slowly upwards, traveling a path of soft, insistent kisses along my legs. Without breaking rhythm, he paused only to wrap strong arms around me, pulling me closer. His lips burned warm as embers against my flesh, up over my stomach with the fire of him and the heat of his mouth, until my breasts ached with the desire he sparked. I shivered beneath him, head tossed back, wanting him utterly and without pause.

“Now I’m going to—” he began to speak, but I could not wait any longer.

“Just do it!” I pleaded, cutting him off in desperation. “I do nae need more talking. I need yer mouth upon me. I trust ye. I trust ye. Do what ye will.”

Satisfied by my words, he grinned, a glint of pure wickedness in his eyes. He resumed his attentions with increased fervor, lips returning to my skin His answer was to take my nipple into his mouth. My answer was a scream of pure ecstasy. Never had I imagined such a thing. Never had I experienced such a thing. I wanted more. And when he swirled his tongue around my nipple while using his hands to rub my other nipple, I wanted more. I wanted all of him. In me. Right then. “Take me!” I commanded .

“Such an impatient feisty lass,” he teased. He raised up and kissed my mouth, sucking my lips between his before releasing them to lower himself between my thighs, which he gently spread. His fingers came to my private bits, and he spread them as well, making me gasp. Before I could decide whether to voice a protest, his tongue slid down the center of my sex, and then he suckled at a spot that made me lose my mind.

Pressure built within me so strong that I raked my nails over his scalp, thrashed my head side to side, and cried out. His tongue tantalized me at my core as passion pounded the blood through my heart, chest, and head. I grew taut as a bow, my body flaming with need, and my impatience growing to explosive proportions. “Colin!” I begged and insisted in one breath. He suckled the secret spot he had found in one long pull and waves of pulsating ecstasy flowed through me making me arch my back and scream out my pleasure.

But it was not enough. I wanted all of him. To know every inch of him. To take all the pleasure he wanted to give me. I tugged at his head and his shoulder until he was sliding up and over me. Then I grasped his back and attempted to push him closer, but he stilled. “Ye are certain? Ye are ready?”

“Aye, aye!” I assured him. He came between my thighs and catching my lips with his, he slid into me in a long slow motion filling me in a way I had never been filled before. He stilled for a moment, allowing me to get used to him, and then together, we found the tempo that bound us. We moved in exquisite harmony as the room around me disappeared, and all I could hear, feel or smell was him. Again, a pressure began to build, and the heat of his body coursed down the length of mine. My desire for him overrode all memories, all pain, all longings, and I moaned with erotic pleasure as I yielded to the searing need that he had created.

A guttural cry escaped him at the same time it did me and passion exploded, sending fiery sensations through me. His arms locked around me, and then he poured his life into me before he became heavy on top of me, his heart pounding against mine, and his ragged breaths rhythmic in my ear. We lay depleted and silent against each other, until my skin started to cool, and our breaths had evened. Then Colin rolled off me and somehow brought me with him so that I was nestled in the crook of his arm and my head was pressed against his chest.

His hand came to my back, and he traced his fingers back and forth on my chilled skin and without a word, he drew the rumpled coverlet up over me with his foot. I glanced up at him from underneath my lashes, and I found him looking at me. “Did ye find pleasure?” he asked.

I laughed. “Could ye nae ken that I did?” It seemed to me my screaming made it obvious.

“Well, I would say, aye, but I do nae want to ever assume.”

I placed my hand on his heart. “Ye shatter me into a million pieces.”

His mouth came over mine in a tender kiss. When he pulled back, he said, “Good. Now ye take those million pieces and create a new fierce ye.”

I stared in amazement at this man and his words. A hot ache grew in my heart, but this was a new yearning. I wanted to know him fully. Reaching up, I traced the white line on his forehead that I had noticed before. “What happened here?”

His entire body went tense underneath me .

“If ye do nae wish to tell me…” I offered, but I hoped he would.

Moments stretched, and my heart grew heavy that he would not share, but then he inhaled a long breath. “I got this scar during one of yer da’s attacks on Dunscaith three years ago.” He breathed deeply for a moment and then continued. “During the attack I chased some of yer da’s men into the woods to vanquish them from our home, but I did so against the advice of a witch who I had encountered the day before in the woods. She’d been cornered by a pack of wolves, and I came to her aid. For that, she offered a vision of my future, which I dismissed, because I did nae believe in magic at the time.”

My curiosity was instantly sparked. “What was the ban-druidh’s name?”

“Morgana.”

I raised on my elbow, my heart lurching. “Morgana is the witch who cursed me.”

He frowned. “I did nae ken that.”

I nodded. “Aye.”

“She’s the one ye stole the goblet from?”

“Aye.”

“Why did ye steal the goblet? I heard ye speak of it at yer da’s but with the noise in the courtyard and my own tumbling thoughts, I did nae catch all ye said.”

“I will tell ye,” I said, “but first tell me how ye got the scar.”

“As I said, I chased the men into the woods, and upon my return, Katherine told me Magy had been snatched, just as the witch Morgana had warned me would happen if I did nae guard her. I rode hard after Magy’s captor, and in the process, I rode straight into a low hanging tree limb. It hit me straight across the forehead. When I came to, I found Magy.” He paused, and I did nae speak as his chest rose and fell in short breaths. His fingers had stopped tracing lines over my back, and he turned his face away for a moment, but when he looked to me, I could see the unshed tears in his eyes. “She had been ravished by one of yer da’s men,” he continued, his words low and throbbing with so much pain that my heart twisted with it. “And she had fought him and gotten stabbed in the gut for it.”

He inhaled a sharp breath as if the pain were still so fresh and raw and shocking. “I held her as the life blood poured out of her, and that’s when she told me she was with child,” he said, his voice cracking in anguish. “I lost her, and I lost our child. She was but a breath away from her last when I realized it. I could see the life leaving her eyes when she told me she carried my bairn. I saw the light of two souls flicker and fade right before me, and I was helpless and weak, and I could nae stop it. I was as good as dead myself at that moment, for what was left of me? I was a hollowed-out shell.”

A silence heavy with all that lived and died and lived again in his words fell between us. The horror of his story pressed down on me and filled the space between us. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, barely able to speak through the lump that clogged my throat, horrified by the suffering he had known.

He looked down at me, his eyes a sea that threatened to drown me. “I am the one who is sorry that I did nae take heed of what Morgana told me. I dismissed magic. I doubted the one thing that might have saved her. I was a disbeliever. I was a stubborn fool who refused to see the truth until it was too late. And I lost the only woman I ever loved for it and my child. I would have gladly given my life for Magy to keep hers. There was nothing I would nae have done to keep her alive.”

Tears filled my eyes, brimmed until they were too heavy to hold, and spilled over them onto my cheeks. That was the sort of love I had always wanted. That fierce, reckless, and unending sort of love that would sacrifice anything to hold on until the very end. What woman would not want such a thing? What woman would not give anything to have love like that? An undeniable and dreadful thought froze in my brain even as my heart surged with want. I was already falling in love with him, and he still loved Magy.