Page 24

Chapter Twenty-Three – Freya

Tears of pleasure filled my eyes at Colin’s words and a warm glow flowed through me, despite my throbbing shoulder. I raised my good arm to bring my hand to his face and ran my fingertips over his stubble. He captured my hand with his and brought my fingertips to his lips to kiss them almost reverently. “Ye have unlocked me heart and soul, Colin. Despite the gruff exterior ye tried to present, ye gave only gentleness, kindness, and understanding. Ye gave me back the confidence, the inner strength, I had lost. Do ye realize, ye did nae once ask me to try to conjure a vision when that is precisely why ye took me in the first place?”

“Aye,” he said, going to my left shoulder to examine, I knew, the arrow protruding from it. “I did nae ever wish to take ye, but,” he said, his gaze soft as a caress, “I’m glad I did. When I did take ye, though, I promised myself, I’d only ask ye for a vision if there was nae another choice. I felt I still had choices.”

“Felt?”

He sighed. “Aye. We cannae keep doing this. I lose good men with every attack, and we become weaker and weaker. Eventually, yer da will best me, and then—” He shook his head and growled. “I ken he is yer da, Freya, but he used ye, and I’d nae see ye fall to his mercy again.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks. Maybe it was that my mother had been the best part of Da? Maybe, she had kept the good parts of him at the forefront when she’d been alive, and when she’d died, that part of him had slowly died as well, quickened with Yennifer and Bran whispering in his ear to gain more power. It was not a simple answer, but I refused to be used by my da again. My allegiance resided with the man who had loved me as I always had hoped to be loved—unquestionably, completely, and passionately.

I stared at Colin. The man I loved. “Are ye asking me to conjure a vision to defeat my da?”

“Aye,” he said, his tone sorrowful. His pain for me spoke volumes of the man he was. “I am. I’m sorry. If ye do nae want to do it, we will find another way. Somehow.”

There was no other way. I knew it, and he knew it too, and yet he offered to find one, because when ye loved someone, you put them first, thought about their happiness, their safety, over yers. “If I say nay—”

“’Tis alright,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead before his gaze found mine once more. “I will send ye and Katherine to the convent for protection, and then I will come for ye both, if—nae, when—I’m victorious over yer da.”

So many emotions rioted in me. Sadness. Happiness. Fear. Hope. Awe and gratitude. I had conjured a vision that had saved Colin’s life. Now, I was being asked to summon one that might end my da’s. “I will do it,” I said, hoping when the time came, I actually could. “I will do it because if I do nae, he will kill ye or Bran will.”

“Bran is dead,” Colin said, matter of fact.

“How?” I asked, not having seen Bran’s death in my vision.

“Katherine shot him with an arrow.”

“Ye taught her? ”

“Aye. That and the dagger.”

In that moment, a pounding came at the door.

“Enter,” Colin bellowed.

Katherine strode into the room. “’Tis all the time ye can have. Freya needs the arrow removed to help avoid infection and fever.”

Colin raised an eyebrow in question then leaned forward. I nodded, giving an answer, and his lips touched mine, tentative at first, then eager and deliberate. A blinding light filled and overwhelmed my vision, and I gasped as the world around me spun and fell away. The quiet healing room vanished with startling suddenness as the warmth of his mouth swept me far, far away.

I stood beside Colin in his solar, leaning over his shoulder as he scratched out letters with an ink-stained hand, focused and intent, the room filled with parchment and the musky scent of old books. His hair shone in the candlelit glow as he wrote a careful missive, the words sprawling with urgency, meant for delivery to the king.

Yer Grace,

I beg ye to send a trusted advisor to hear a confession from Laird MacLeod of his stepson attacking Dunscaith and breaking the treaty. The war between us rages on, and I wish to end it, and have thought of a way to elicit the confession to do this. If ye will give me leave in this, I can once again turn my attention to serving ye.

Yer faithful servant,

Laird Colin MacDonald

A sharp and unmistakable flash of white light penetrated my vision again, accompanied by a sudden, searing pain that tore relentlessly across my forehead. I cried out, clutching my temples, as my vision warped, twisted, and the agony grew unbearable.

Now, I was standing on the far side of the bridge at Eilean Donnan, shrouded in a thick and cloying mist. The bridge was lifted, a barrier between worlds, and there stood my da, defiant, his army clustered in tight formation behind him. Alone, I faced him. To the right, concealed among the dense forest trees and emerald brush, the king’s man held his station with Colin beside him, both of them straining to hear my father’s confession. I was desperate to hear, too. My vision began to splinter into fragments, to break apart and reform in flashes, never constant, never certain. Me pleading with him, me sacrificing my power for his confession to only me. Slivers of him agreeing and giving the confession. Me warning him with urgency—if he did not heed, he would die, just like the others. And him laughing, unbowed, refusing to listen. But it was not my da who lay slain; the ghostly image of my own body filled my mind. It was I who fell.

I opened my eyes with a start, and I was looking at Colin and Katherine once more. I did not know exactly how my story ended, if I lived or died, but I knew without a doubt, what I had to do to protect Colin. I had wished to control my own future and now I was being handed the chance to do that. At the base of my throat a beat pulsed and swelled as the knowledge of what was to come, what I had to do, sank in.

“Are ye alright?” Colin asked, standing so close his heat washed over me.

“I’m the key to ending the war,” I said.

“Ye mean yer visions?” he asked with a frown.

“Nay,” I said, shaking my head. “Me. I must confront my da face to face, and ye must write to the king and convince him to send a trusted advisor to hear the confession. ”

“Nay,” Colin said, the word hard and uncompromising. “I’ll nae let ye confront yer da and risk yerself. When I thought I lost ye, it nearly killed me.”

I put my palm on his cheek, even as my shoulder ached so badly I had to grit my teeth. “Ye gave me back my strength, Colin. Now, ye must let me use it. I set my fate in motion, and my gut tells me the only way to put right what I caused is to do this.”

His eyebrows dipped into a deep frown. “Ye wish to be rid of the visions.”

I nodded. “I do, but I wish to end this war, save lives, and atone for the death of Morgana’s mother. She died as a result of me stealing the goblet. If my visions disappear, will ye still—”

He pressed a finger to my lips. “Lass,” he said the one word brimming with love, “ye ken I will. I do nae love ye for the visions. I love ye for ye.”

“Enough talk,” Katherine clipped. “I must remove the arrow now.”

After night had finally stretched its dark cloak over the castle, and when my da’s men had ridden away in defeat and disgrace, I lay spent and naked in Colin’s arms. I was still panting and sweaty from the intense joining of our bodies. Colin turned on his side, so he could face me, and I rolled carefully onto my good shoulder to look at him with eyes full of love and longing. He ran his thumb over my lower lip, and the touch clenched my belly with desire once more, though my body was exhausted from the events of the night—from the battle and the horrible loss of blood, and most especially from having Colin love me so completely and so thoroughly. I tried to calm my breathing, savoring the feel of him next to me, the warmth of his skin against mine. Moonlight streamed in from the window, and I counted in my mind to when the first clear night would be. I knew there were ten more to come before my da returned with more men and I had to confront him again. I would live each one of those nights as if it were my very last.

“Freya.”

I knew before he even voiced the question what it would be, but I let him ask so he could hear it for himself.

“Did ye see yerself safe in yer vision?”

I swallowed the knot forming in my throat. “I saw myself fall.”

Colin’s entire body tensed next to me. He rolled on top of me and his heavy weight settled over me. His arms came to either side of mine, not locking me in place but sheltering and protecting me. He pressed against me, his heart frantic against my chest. “Freya, I cannae let ye do this. I cannae live without ye should ye die.”

I pressed my lips to his, relishing the warmth and the fire his nearness was already rekindling. When I broke the kiss, I said, “Ye would give yer life for me. And I would ye. That is the perfect love I wished for. If I only have these next ten days of it, so be it, but I dinnae believe that is so. I believe what I needed was true faith in myself and once I found that, I gained the power to see my future. Now, it’s up to me to control the outcome.”

“Us,” he said, brushing his lips first to mine, then delving his tongue inside my mouth. Our tongues tangled and retreated, before he pulled back to stare at me. “Tell me what ye want me to do to ye.”

I loved how he always thought of me. “Ye ken what I want,” I said.

His mouth moved down to my breast, his lips suckling and tongue teasing. A pulsing knot of desire tightened at my core, each flick of his tongue making my heart leap and my body blaze with more and more heat. My breast grew heavy under his relentless attentions as the need and ache built with intensity until they were all I could feel, all that I was. I shook my head and mewled, moving beneath him, desperate. He rolled to the side of me to spread my sex and find the secret spot again, his fingers coaxing even more pleasure from me with each touch.

I gasped as his fingers moved softly, like a whisper, and then more insistently with increasing pressure, until I was unraveling. The ache increased, and I was clutching at him and pulling him to me, everything inside of me throbbing with need. His fingers moved ever faster until he was expertly strumming me, and I climbed again toward the peak. Desperate, almost senseless with wanting him, I brought my mouth to his and kissed him with the message I knew he would read.

He came over me, and my body opened to him as he drove inside me to the hilt, sending a hunger spiraling through me. “Now,” I moaned, my voice raw. He did not hesitate. His hands came under my buttocks, lifting me. With long, full strokes of his body, he drove into me faster and harder until we were both crying out, wild. He took me to the top of the pinnacle, to the edge of it and over, to the place where only he had ever taken me. Passion inched through my veins as we reached our release, my insides throbbing, and our bodies becoming one.

He collapsed on top of me, his head coming to the side of my shoulder, and I brought my hands to his back and traced my fingernails across his hot skin until he moaned his pleasure. “Ye are every bit the husband I wished for. Ye saved me.”

He rose his head up and kissed me fully on the mouth. “Nay, lass, ye saved me.”