Page 14 of The Unencumbered Warrior (Highland Wishes Trilogy #1)

T he cold stream ran swift over Raff’s hands, its bite sharp as he cupped the water and splashed it over his face.

The sun dipped low behind the hills, gilding the treetops in gold while shadows gathered beneath.

He rubbed the back of his neck, water dripping from his hair, and straightened slowly, eyes narrowing, and ears picking up a rustle.

His warrior senses warned him that someone was nearby. He scanned the opposite bank just beyond the bend where the bracken thickened, and the pines grew close, and spotted a figure cloaked in black.

A chill threaded down his spine, not from the cold water dripping along his chest, but from the certainty in his gut.

It was the witch .

“What do you want?” he called out, his voice steady but taut with warning.

The figure did not move at first. It remained as still as a statue. Then came the whisper, like a breeze through the trees, low and commanding.

“You made a wish, warrior. Do you regret it?”

He clenched his jaw. “I wish I’d never made it.”

A faint laugh answered him, hollow and humorless. “Yet you’ve gained more than most men ever dream.”

“Gained?” Raff snapped. He stepped forward, fists curling. “I lost everything.”

“You got what you wanted… your freedom,” she said. “It isn’t my fault you didn’t give it more thought before you requested it.”

“You’re right,” Raff said, nodding. “It is my fault. I never gave thought to the cost of complete freedom, having no responsibilities, no family to care for me, no one to look after, keep safe, no one to love… until now.”

“You have fallen in love?” she asked. “What nonsense is this?”

His body tingled with a strange strength and a sense of hope. “It seems that love is stronger than evil.”

“Who is this woman who defies my power?” she demanded.

“If you so much as come near her, I will hunt you down. Witch or no witch, I’ll not rest until I see you gone from this land,” he threatened, with an intensity that left no room for doubt.

“You fear for her.”

“Your evil presence has already put her in harm’s way, some believing her a witch simply because she is a talented weaver. What brings you here? What evil deeds have you done that brings misfortune to the innocent?”

“So, it is Ingrid you love.”

His chest tightened hearing her speak the name. “Fair warning, witch, harm her in any way and you will die by my hand.”

“So bold. So foolish.” The figure tilted her head, the hood falling slightly to reveal a pale cheek and the shadow of a smile. “But I have already touched her fate.”

He surged forward a step, fury raw in his chest. “You’ll touch nothing of hers. She’s mine to protect. And I will protect her. No matter what dark bargain you struck, no matter what curse you carry, I will not let you take her from me.”

Silence fell like a blade between them. The stream babbled on, uncaring, while birds ceased their evening songs.

“Your wish cannot be undone, Raff of Clan MacMunn,” she said, her voice softer now, almost sorrowful. “But the shape of how it ends… that is still yours to choose.”

Then she was gone. One blink, and the shadows swallowed her whole.

Raff stood unmoving, breath harsh, muscles tight as a drawn bowstring. He wiped his face again, not to clean it but to compose himself.

He had no idea what the witch truly wanted, but he knew one thing, Ingrid meant more to him than any cursed wish, and he would fight fate itself if he had to.

And tonight, he’d sit at her hearth, and hold onto that peace he found with her, even if the darkness crept closer.

“Sit,” Ingrid said after Raff entered her cottage while filling two tankards with hot cider.

Raff settled himself at the table, the hearth’s warmth easing into his limbs or maybe it was the ease he felt when near Ingrid. She handed him a filled tankard, their fingers brushing in passing. He held onto that simple touch longer than he meant to.

“Smells good,” he said as Ingrid grabbed the wooden bowls off the table.

“Meat and root vegetables,” she said, a gentle smile pulling at her lips as she ladled a generous portion into one bowl.

“Your meals are always tasty. Believe me, I’ve had my share of bad ones,” he said, a hint of amusement lightening his voice. “But I’ve never had better company.”

She glanced at him, her smile softening. “Either have I.” She set a bowl in front of him.

Simple words that said so much more.

Ingrid filled her bowl and joined him at the table where a platter of a variety of breads, cheeses, and honey cakes sat.

Raff rubbed his hands together, grinning as if he couldn’t wait to taste everything there.

She laughed softly. “I have more than enough for you to take some with you.”

“That wouldn’t be good,” he said, his tone serious and his eyes focused intently on her.

She appeared perplexed. “Why not?”

“I wouldn’t be able to share supper with you for a while, and I would greatly miss that.”

She held his intent gaze, finding it stirred a tingle in her. “So would I.”

Raff was glad, more relieved, that she felt the same. They had somehow established a connection today, a closeness that may have been there before now, but was finally fully felt and acknowledged. A good step since he was aching to kiss her again.

So that he wouldn’t vault over the table and do just that, he steered the conversation to safer ground. “Do you think there is much credence to talk about a witch in the woods?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Tongues start gossiping when difficult times fall on folks who are already on edge. They don’t need a second shadow to fear.”

Raff frowned. “One witch is enough to set a village on edge. Two might cause trouble.”

“Clan MacMunn is searching for her. Maybe they can shed some light on the problem,” she suggested.

The name dropped like a stone in his chest. He shifted slightly, masking the tension that crept through his limbs.

“Are you familiar with the clan at all? Perhaps you’ve come across them on your travels?”

Raff took a moment too long to answer. “Heard of them,” he said, lowering his gaze. “A stable clan. Skilled warriors. Good to their people.”

And they are my clan. My family.

The thought pulsed like a bruise. He hadn’t spoken the name in almost a year, hadn’t claimed it even in his own mind in some time. But hearing Ingrid speak it, he felt the divide between who he’d been and who he now was close in like a noose.

What would she think if she knew? If he told her what blood ran in his veins, or what words he’d spoken by firelight, cursing his own name for a foolish wish? He didn’t want to lose her, what he felt for her, what she felt for him.

“If their search brings them this way, we will learn more, or perhaps it will be nothing more than talk and not a bit of truth to it,” Ingrid said.

He wished—he silenced the dangerous thought before it could plant itself and instead, hoped it would work out that way.

They sat exchanging minor talk while eating, the warmth of the fire wrapping around them.

When they were done, he reached across the table and brushed a stray curl from her cheek. “There’s something about being near you that makes the world settle, just a bit.”

“I was thinking the same myself about you,” she confessed softly.

He rose and walked around the table, taking her hand and easing her to her feet, the ache to kiss her far too great to ignore.

Their kiss was slow, no rush, just the warm press of lips becoming familiar with each other. When it broke, their foreheads rested together, breath mingling.

Outside, the chilled wind stirred the trees. Inside, the warmth only grew.

“You have a way about you,” Raff said. “Steady. Honest. I find myself looking forward to hearing your voice, seeing your face, and spending as much time as is proper with you. I didn’t expect that.”

Her cheeks flushed as she stepped away from him. “Nor did I. You surprised me but worry me as well.”

He didn’t let her go far, his arm reached out and snagged her around the waist to ease her close to him. “I know your worries.”

That surprised her. “You do?”

“Aye, you worry I won’t stay. That you will wake one day, and I will be gone.” The words hurt to say. The thought of never seeing her again ached at his heart.

“Aye, that does concern me,” she admitted, feeling the weight of such a moment.

He brushed his lips over hers. “How could I ever leave the one I cherish so much, who holds my heart, who I love deeply?”

She gasped, never expecting to hear such a declaration from him.

“It’s foolish of me to ignore it or deny it. It overpowers me, torments me, frightens me?—”

“Frightens?”

“Aye, that I could care that strongly, that deeply, as if you were a necessary part of me, a part I cannot live without.” He shook his head.

“I have been a foolish man, Ingrid, and I will no longer be a fool. I love you and I will not lose you… unless,” —he took a breath— “you don’t feel the same.

Then I will—” He stopped abruptly and shook his head.

“I won’t leave. I will stay until I win your heart. ”

Her smile spread wide. “I believe you did that the very first moment I met you.”

Joy raced through him, and he couldn’t help but tease. “I’m that appealing, am I?” He hugged her tightly. “Be sure for I will never let you go.”

“Nor I you.”

“Then we wed,” he said as if it was already done. “You will be my wife and I your husband.” She hesitated and fear gripped his heart. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed. “You will need to meet my mum first, not that it will matter to me what she thinks of you, but if I wed you without her knowing about it, she will make our lives… difficult.”

“Your mum will love me,” he said confidently.

She laughed. “You do not know my mother. Difficult doesn’t come close to describing her.”

“We’ll manage,” he said. “Will she visit soon. I do not want to wait long to make you my wife.”

“Aye, she always visits just before the harvest celebration.”

A thought came to him, and he eagerly shared it with her, hoping she would agree. “What say we handfast tonight. Pledge our love to each other and seal our vows. This way no one can separate us. It can remain a secret between us. No one ever need know unless we want them to.”

“But if no one sees us handfast then how valid would it be?” she asked.

“Valid enough for us to keep our vows, always, even if it is only you and I who know of it.”

“That’s a big trust.”

“Validated by the love we have for each other. A love neither of us would ever dishonor,” Raff said, solidifying his commitment. “Besides, with you being my wife, Chafton cannot question my wanting to protect you.”

“But it won’t stop him from doing as he pleases,” Ingrid said with concern.

“And it won’t stop me from doing whatever is necessary to protect my wife.

” He took a breath to fortify himself. “I feared I’d have a life of wandering from one place to the next with no one caring about me or me caring for no one…

until I met you. You changed all that. I fell in love, and it opened a whole new future for me—with you.

I won’t lose that. Marry me and I will work hard to make sure we live a good life together. ”

She corrected him. “ We will work hard to make a good life together.”

They stood before the hearth and Raff wrapped a strip of cloth around their joined hands and with only themselves to hear it, they pledged their undying love to each other.

“I pledge to love you until there is not a breath left in me, then I will love you from beyond,” he said, his heart filled with joy.

Ingrid hesitated. “There is something I should tell you before?—”

Raff kissed her, halting her words, then spoke before she could finish what she was going to tell him. “Nothing you can say will change my mind about marrying you. I love you and our love can conquer anything.”

Ingrid felt the truth of his words down in her bones and she smiled. “I pledge my never-ending love to you. Whether near or far my love, my heart, my soul will always be with you.”

Their lips met in an eager kiss that sealed their love, their commitment, their future, no matter what they might face… it would always be together.

“Now we seal our vows, wife, and become forever one,” he said and scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed.