Author: Kenna Kendrick

Don’t miss your link for the whole series at the end of the preview.

Prologue

Inishail Priory, Grampian Mountains

Two days prior

The winter chill permeated the air, seeping into Deirdre’s bones through her habit. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the wind around her, some of them landing on her hands and her cheeks and dusting her robes with white. As she walked, Deirdre held her cloak tightly around her with one hand, as the other fidgeted with the pendant around her neck that had once been her mother’s, a nervous habit she had developed ever since her sister Lana had gifted it to her.

It was beautiful at the nunnery that time of the year, every path, tree and bush covered in a thin layer of snow. Deirdre walked around the grounds to get to the main building, where Sister Freya was waiting for her—though for what reason, Deirdre didn’t know. All she knew was that she had called for her.

Entering the main building, Deirdre made her way to the back, to a study where Sister Freya and a few other senior nuns dealt with daily matters and correspondence. She knocked on the door and it opened almost instantly, as if the nun was waiting for her right behind it.

Sister Freya was an older woman, well into her fifties, with rosy cheeks and the signs of her gentle, kind nature etched into the smile lines and the wrinkles around her green eyes. She was Deirdre’s favorite—always had been, ever since her father had dropped her off at the nunnery, effectively ridding himself of her.

Deirdre had been only a child then, no more than five years of age, and Sister Freya had been a young woman who had taken care of her as a mother. Had she not been a nun, Deirdre could imagine her surrounded by happy children and grandchildren, little souls she would have nurtured just like she had nurtured her.

“Ach, ye are here… good,” Sister Freya said, exiting the study instead of inviting Deirdre in, much to her confusion. Had she not called to see her? Where was she going?

“Ye called fer me,” Deirdre reminded her, falling into step next to her as Sister Freya made her way down the hall.

“Aye. There is someone here tae meet ye,” the woman said, and Deirdre’s frown only deepened.

It wasn’t often that she had visitors. Her father, before his death, rarely ever came to see her, forbidding her sister from visiting her as well, more often than not. Since his death, and in the week since Deirdre’s return to the nunnery, Lana naturally hadn’t had the chance to visit, so perhaps it was her?

But if it’s Lana, would she nae have written tae me?

In her most recent letter, which Deirdre had only received a few days prior, she had made no mention of a visit.

“Dae ye ken who it is?” Deirdre asked.

At her question, Sister Freya’s face fell, her lips pursing into a thin line. It wasn’t the sort of expression Deirdre had seen on her face often. Even when she was displeased, Sister Freya rarely showed it.

“It’s Shane Hay,” she said, her voice tight and strained, as if simply the mention of the name was enough to unsettle her. “That… well, I cannae call him what I wish tae call him. The nerve that man must have tae come here after tryin’ tae take the lairdship from yer sister.”

Deirdre hadn’t even known of Shane Hay until recently, when the man had shown up from Ayrshire claiming he was the late Laird Hay’s cousin, and thus, Deirdre’s uncle. She hadn’t been the only one confused. Lana didn’t know of him, either, and no matter how many people Deirdre asked in the clan, none of them had heard of him before.

“What does he want?” Deirdre asked. She knew all about Shane’s desire to become the laird of the Hay Clan. He had made it all too clear when he had come to Hay Castle that he wanted the lairdship, but Deirdre had nothing to do with it.

“I dinnae ken,” said Sister Freya. “He only said he wishes tae speak with ye, an’ he wouldnae leave unless he saw ye. I asked him tae several times, but he simply wouldnae listen.”

“That’s alright,” said Deirdre. “I will speak with him.”

Sister Freya came to a halt and turned around to look at Deirdre. “If ye dinnae wish tae see him, ye dinnae have tae. He’ll leave eventually. Surely, he cannae stay here all day.”

“Nay, nay… I will speak with him,” Deirdre insisted. She didn’t want to see him, but she also didn’t want him to bother the other nuns or appear rude to him. “It’s alright. I dinnae mind.”

Sister Freya nodded and continued down the hall, Deirdre following close behind. When they reached the end of the hall, Deirdre saw the familiar figure through the door to one of the rooms of the wing, sitting by the fireplace. It was strange to see him there, in a room usually reserved for studying, his opulent clothes clashing with the bare walls.

He was older, though by no means old, a few strands of his dark hair only just starting to grey. He was a tall man, lithe but imposing, even as he sat.

“I willnae be long,” Deirdre assured Sister Freya, and then she stepped inside. The moment Shane saw her, he turned to her, smiling without warmth.

“Deirdre Hay… ye are a difficult lass tae talk tae,” he said. “That woman wouldnae let me see ye.”

“Ye are in a nunnery,” Deirdre pointed out. “This isnae a place fer men.”

“Ye cannae have visitors?” Shane asked with an amused smile. “Surely, I cannae be the first man tae come here.”

“Yer nae,” Deirdre confirmed. “But ye have nae reason tae be here. If ye wished tae tell me somethin’, ye could have sent a letter.”

“Nae fer this,” said Shane. “What I wish tae tell ye is serious, an’ I didnae want tae send a letter. It’s better tae speak in person.”

This had to be about the lairdship, Deirdre thought. There was no other reason for Shane to be there and insist to speak with her face to face. But if Shane wanted her support, then surely, he was deluded.

“Ye ken as well as I dae that the lairdship willnae go tae yer sister,” Shane continued. “A lass cannae be the laird o’ the clan.”

“Perhaps,” Deirdre said, “but her husband can.”

This had been the plan from the beginning, after all, ever since their father had died. The clansmen had been ready to accept it when Shane had showed up and changed everything.

“Tate Murray is from a noble family, that much is true,” Shane said. “If he an’ yer sister were the only options, then I have nae doubt the lairdship would go tae him an’ yer sister would be the lady o’ the clan, as ye think is rightful. But he’s nae the only option. In fact, he’s nae even the best option or the first option. As a Hay, I have a right tae the clan.”

He wasn’t wrong, and that was what Deirdre feared the most. If he was who he claimed to be, then he had more right than anyone else to be the laird, since her father had no sons or closer male relatives. But if that happened, then all the hard work Deirdre had done would go to waste. She didn’t know this man. No one knew him. No one knew if he would be the kind of leader the people needed.

“Macauley an’ I—”

“Och aye,” Shane interrupted. “I heard all about Macauley. He’s one o’ Kian Drummond’s men, is he nae? What was he doin’ at the Hay Clan?”

Deirdre didn’t appreciate being interrupted, nor did she appreciate Shane trying to imply Macauley had ulterior motives. It was true that he was one of Laird Drummond’s men—one of his closest friends and his most trusted advisor, in fact—but he had stayed with Deirdre at Hay Castle after her father’s death, helping her rebuild. Without him, she wouldn’t have managed to do anything, and he had become a close friend, one she valued too much to let anyone doubt his intentions.

If anything, Shane’s intentions were the ones that were doubtful.

“He was helpin’ me,” Deirdre said. “I’m sure ye ken that when the Cummings Clan attacked us, they destroyed much o’ our clan. With me faither dead, we had to rebuild it, an’ Macauley stayed with me tae help. Balfour Cummings left naething but ruins behind him. Had it nae been fer him, there would be nae clan fer ye tae try an’ take.”

Though she originally didn’t want to be rude to the man, she couldn’t help it now. Shane was asking for it. Not only was he trying to take the clan when he had never even visited its lands, he was being rude to her, too.

“Ye didnae dae a very good job, it seems,” Shane said, his smile disappearing. This was the real him, she thought, the one he tried to hide behind smiles and politeness until he couldn’t anymore.

“We did the best we could,” Deirdre’s tone turned cold. She had no reason to even pretend to be polite anymore, not when Shane wouldn’t give her the same treatment. “Resources were limited. As time passes, we’ll dae more.”

“Why wait?” Shane asked. He stood from his chair and approached Deirdre, not stopping until he was too close to her, to the point where she was forced to take a step back to keep some distance between them, which seemed to amuse him. “I have land. I have gold. I have men o’ me own. I can rebuild the clan right the now.”

That wasn’t news to Deirdre either. She had heard of Shane’s land and the fact that he had an army, though she didn’t know the extent of it. Some said he was nothing but a minor landowner, while others swore he was wealthy beyond imagination, and Deirdre didn’t know who to believe.

All she knew was that this man didn’t deserve the lairdship. The one who truly deserved it was Lana, who had put up with everything their father had put her through all alone while growing up. However, since the council would never give the clan to a woman, then the next best person was her husband. With Tate in charge, Lana would be able to lead the clan through him and alongside him.

Shane had done nothing for the Hays. He couldn’t simply show up and demand to be the laird.

“All I need,” Shane continued, his smile returning but once again not reaching his eyes, “is a bride from the clan.”

For a few moments, Deirdre didn’t know what he was trying to say. The only one who could truly help him secure the lairdship was Lana, and Lana was already married to Tate. Marrying someone else would perhaps strengthen his chances, but it would be no guarantee.

It was only when Shane moved closer again, shortening the distance between them and gazing at her with a look akin to hunger, that Deirdre realized what it was he meant.

He’s talkin’ about me. He wishes tae marry me.

Her expression hardening, Deirdre stood her ground. “I have taken me vows. Naething will change this. Even if I wished tae wed, I couldnae. And I dinnae wish tae wed, especially nae someone like ye.”

She wanted to be clear there was no chance of him having her. It didn’t matter if the lairdship ended up in his hands; Deirdre would never be his wife.

Shane’s smile turned into a snarl, his lips curling to bare his teeth at Deirdre as he shoved her against the wall, drawing a pained huff out of her. He held her there, his hands gripping her arms so tightly that she could almost feel the creak of her bones as they were squeezed, the skin bruising under his fingers.

Her heart rattled in her ribs, panic coursing through her. Deirdre tried to push Shane off, but she could hardly move at all, pinned as he had her to the wall.

“Let me go,” she demanded. “Ye have nae right tae come here. Ye have nae right tae touch me. An’ ye have nae right tae the clan as far as I’m concerned.”

Shane laughed, an empty, hollow sound. “Fer a nun, ye’re very… spirited. I thought ye were all supposed tae be gentle. Ach, it doesnae matter. I enjoy it more when a lass fights.”

Deirdre’s eyes widened in horror as Shane pushed her firmly against the wall, bracketing her in with his body. He held her wrists in a crushing grip and kept her hips still with his own, leaving her no space to move. All she could do was wriggle violently against him, trying to push him off, but he was immovable.

Macauley had shown her how to fight. He hadn’t shown her how to overpower someone twice her size.

“Ye must understand, I am nae happy I must dae this, but ye leave me with nae other choice,” Shane said. “If ye willnae marry me willingly, ye will marry me by force. Once I have ye, ye’ll have nae choice but tae say aye.”

Holding her wrists in one of his large hands, Shane reached down to pull Deirdre’s habit up, exposing her thigh. For a moment, he looked at her curiously, his finger tracing the mark on her skin that resembled a lightning bolt, and Deirdre reeled with disgust, her stomach churning as he touched her.

I swear to God, if he doesnae stop and remove those hands from me, I will kill him…

“Stop,” she said, her legs kicking out as she tried to fight him off. “This is a holy place. Ye cannae—”

Before she could finish her sentence, a thud echoed in the room and Shane collapsed by her feet. Deirdre dragged her gaze up to see sister Freya standing there, holding an iron candelabra in her hands, her chest heaving as she looked at the man on the floor.

There was blood on it, but when Deirdre looked back at Shane, there was nothing but a small wound to the side of his head, blood trickling steadily out of it.

“Go,” Sister Freya said, taking Deirdre by the hand to drag her out of the room. “I will deal with this.”

“Where… where should I go?” Deirdre asked, still shaken. Her hands trembled where Sister Freya held onto them tightly, and though her eyes were dry, a sob was caught in her throat. “An’ ye? He’ll kill ye when he wakes up.”

“I told ye I will deal with it,” Sister Freya insisted. “Go tae yer family. Ye’ll be safe there.”

Deirdre didn’t want to leave the nunnery, but she knew Sister Freya was right. Shane didn’t seem like the kind of man who forgave easily, and despite everything, he was bound to try and force her into a marriage again. He needed her. He needed them to marry so he could get the council’s approval.

The only place where she would be safe was with Lana or Macauley.

She knew Lana and Tate had been staying with the Murray Clan since their wedding, and perhaps she could go there and explain everything to her sister, but she didn’t want to put any of them in danger. Lana could very well be Shane’s target, as well, and so finding Macauley instead seemed like the wiser of the two options.

The Drummond Clan. I must go there.

But even if she did, she couldn’t say for certain that she would avoid this marriage. No, if she wanted to keep herself safe from Shane, then she had to find another husband before he could pursue her; someone who understood her position, someone who wouldn’t force her to break her vows to God.

There was only one man she knew who could give her what she needed.

Chapter One

Drummond Castle

Present moment

The letter in Kian’s hands crumpled with a rustle as he closed his fist around it. He had read it enough times to memorize it by then, his anger only growing with every time he did.

Balfour Cummings had escaped prison three months prior and no one could find him. The man could have been anywhere and Kian would have been none the wiser had it not been for this letter, sent to him by a neighboring clan.

Had no one thought to warn him? If there was one person Cummings wanted to kill, it was Kian, though he was far from the only one in danger. He and Tate had snatched Lana, Tate’s wife, right out of his hands, and with her, the alliance he was planning with Lana’s father, Laird Hay. Tate and Lana were in danger too, and so was her sister Deirdre and, by extension, the entirety of the Drummond and Hay Clans.

There was little Balfour Cummings could do on his own, but Kian knew the man still had allies and supporters. The Cummings Clan was powerful and its allies loyal. If the man decided to come after them, he wouldn’t be doing so alone.

Kian scratched at his chin; the movement hindered by the silver mask he wore over his face. He had neglected to remove it when he had entered his study and now it seemed pointless, since he would be leaving it soon, so he made no attempt to take it off. Besides, it hardly bothered him anymore, after so many years of wearing it to hide the hideous scar with which his father had left him.

What did bother him was the knowledge that Balfour Cummings was out there, surely planning an attack. All those years of enmity between their clans weren’t going to magically disappear, and now it was more personal than ever between the two men. Kian and Tate had done everything in their power to destroy the man, taking the chance to marry Lana from him and join the forces of the Cummings and Hay Clans. They had almost taken his life, too.

Perhaps they should have. With him dead, they wouldn’t have to worry about an attack now.

If only Macauley were here.

They could all sit down and figure out a way to stop Cummings before he even attacked. But his advisor and closest friend Macauley was away and Kian had received no word of his return yet.

With a sigh, he stood from the well-worn, mahogany chair where he sat, rounding the desk to head to his chambers. There was little point in trying to solve this now, on his own, when there was something else he was meant to be doing.

Namely, a maid. He had called for her earlier that evening, and he had already left her waiting for a long while in his rooms while he considered the news of Cummings’ escape.

Kian closed the door to his study behind him and made his way down the dimly lit hall, the torches casting an orange glow on the stone walls around him. The castle was cold at that time of the year, the furs that hung over the windows only able to do so much to keep out the wind where there was no fire burning, so Kian hurried to his rooms, eager to get warm once more.

As he reached the end of the corridor, though, he saw a figure from the corner of his eye walking down the corridor to his left. Slowly, Kian pulled his blade out and began to move as quietly as he could, sticking to the shadows so that he would remain invisible.

Could it be that Cummings had already found his way to the castle? Could it be that he was there to attack in secret, to kill Kian quietly and send the Drummond Clan into chaos?

The figure was hooded and rather small, now that Kian had taken a better look from closer. Perhaps it was someone else, then, someone sent there by Cummings.

But how did he get past me guards?

His men were better than that. He, Tate, and Macauley had trained them well, and he doubted someone could pass through the castle’s defenses unnoticed. But if that was the case, then who was this cloaked figure roaming around the halls as if in search of something?

Before the man could go too far, Kian rushed towards him and pinned him to the wall, his blade going straight for his neck. The figure flailed, a high-pitched yelp escaping the stranger’s lips as and Kian all but ripped the hood off, revealing a familiar face.

“Deirdre?” he asked. In his shock, he was frozen, his blade st

For a moment, Deirdre looked at him in horror, her eyes wide and her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to calm her breathing. In the end, she said, “Good evenin’, me laird. Could ye… let me go?”

Belatedly, Kian realized he still had her pinned against the wall and he hurriedly stepped back, putting some respectable distance between them. Clearing his throat, he put the knife away, which seemed to reassure Deirdre, though she remained timid, as if she expected him to attack again at any moment.

She was a beautiful girl, which certainly didn’t help with the heat that spread over Kian’s cheeks, thankfully mostly hidden by his mask and the dim lighting. Her hazel eyes shone with the incandescence, her skin seemingly radiating a glow of its own, and for a moment, Kian couldn’t look away, although he finally forced himself to.

Deirdre was a nun, and though Kian was far from saintly, he wasn’t going to stare at a nun, even if said nun was staring at him, still plastered to the wall for no reason.

Kian was aware of his reputation, given that he walked around with a mask covering half of his face, and he had no doubts that Deirdre was scared of him, though she had no reason to be. If anything, Kian wished to protect her from what was to come now that Cummings was free. He didn’t want any harm to come to her, especially when he had started it all by angering Cummings.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I didnae realize it was ye. Were we… expectin’ ye?”

Perhaps Tate or Lana had mentioned Deirdre would be coming to visit and he had simply forgotten about it, or maybe they had neglected to mention it at all. Either way, Kian wished he had known, so he could have made the proper arrangements to receive her as a guest.

“Och… nay,” Deirdre said. “Nae one kens I am here yet, nae even me sister. The guards let me intae the castle an’ I’ve been lookin’ fer Macauley, but I cannae find him anywhere.”

“Didnae they tell ye? Macauley isnae here.”

At that, Deirdre’s face fell, disappointment flooding her delicate features. “Och… I didnae think tae ask. I assumed he would be here.”

“Is somethin’ the matter?” asked Kian. If Deirdre had come all the way to Drummond Castle in the middle of the night, there had to be a good reason for it. Otherwise, she would have sent a letter or visited at a more appropriate time.

“Aye,” Deirdre said. “Dae ye ken when Macauley will return? I truly must speak with him as soon as possible.”

Kian shook his head. “I dinnae ken. I havenae received any word from him. But perhaps I can be o’ service tae ye.”

At first, Deirdre looked uncertain, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as she considered the offer. Then, she simply nodded and Kian offered her his arm, which she didn’t take.

O’ course… she’s a nun.

It was something he had to constantly remind himself of.

“Well… follow me,” he said, as he gestured towards his study. “It’s cold here. Let’s talk in me study.”

Deirdre followed Kian down the hallway back the way he had come, and once they had entered it, he poured them both a cup of wine, handing one to her. He took a seat behind his desk, but Deirdre stayed closer to the fire, warming up as she took a sip from her drink.

The ride to the castle must have been a difficult one, in the dark and the cold. “I will have a maid prepare a bath fer ye so ye can warm up. Would ye like me tae move the chair closer tae the fire?”

Deirdre shook her head. “Thank ye, I’m alright,” she assured him. “I didnae mean tae show up unannounced, but I am afraid I didnae have any other choice.”

“What happened?” Kian asked, alarmed at how worried Deirdre seemed. He watched her as she began to pace back and forth by the fire, nervous energy practically radiating off her and seeping into his own skin.

“There is a man… Shane Hay,” Deirdre said, her fingers tracing the lines of a small, intricate pendant she wore around her neck. “He claims tae be me faither’s cousin.”

“Aye, I’ve heard o’ him,” Kian said, though he found it odd that he had never heard of the man before Laird Hay’s death. He knew of everyone who was related to the major clans, and he had never heard of a Shane Hay until a few weeks prior, when he had first shown up near the Hay lands.

“Well, he came tae the nunnery,” Deirdre said. “He said he wished tae speak with me, but I kent what he wanted.”

“The lairdship,” said Kian.

Deirdre nodded. “He said he can rebuild the clan. He’s a wealthy man an’ he has the resources, but… I dinnae wish fer the clan tae go tae him. Lana deserves tae be the lady. She’s the one who kens the people best and she’s the one who suffered at our father’s hands. If he takes the clan, then it would have all been fer naething.”

“I agree,” Kian said. “An’ I’m certain the council will agree, too, if they look at the facts. Surely, they would rather have someone they ken lead the clan than a stranger.”

“Perhaps,” said Deirdre. “An’ perhaps they willnae. If he is who he says he is, then I wouldnae be surprised if the council preferred him. But he seems tae fear they will choose Tate.”

“Does he?” That was a good thing as far as Kian was concerned. If Shane Hay believed there was a chance the council would be against him, then perhaps he knew something the rest of them didn’t, something that gave Tate and Lana an advantage.

“Aye,” said Deirdre. “He… he proposed to wed me. He said it would be easier if I married him, an’ when I said nay, he…”

Deirdre’s voice trailed off, but Kian didn’t need her to finish her sentence to know what had happened. He had tried to force her into a marriage, one way or another, and Kian shook his head with a sigh. Once again, a political rivalry had turned into a personal matter.

He wasn’t going to allow anyone to hurt Lana’s family. She was as good as family to him now that she had married Tate, whom Kian considered his brother, and by extension, Deirdre was family, too.

“So, I came here tae find Macauley an’ ask fer his hand in marriage,” Deirdre finished, and Kian choked on his sip of wine.

It was the last thing he had expected to hear. He thought Deirdre was looking for Macauley to ask for his help with Shane Hay, but not in the way she seemed to be planning. He had to admit, though, that it was perhaps the best course of action. If Shane was so determined to be the laird of the Hay Clan, then he would stop at nothing. Even if he ever changed his mind about marrying Deirdre, even if he found another way, she would become his enemy. As long as she and Lana existed, and as long as he was married to neither of them, they were a threat.

Then there was the matter of Balfour Cummings. He, too, would surely seek out Lana and Deirdre. The two women were in more danger than they could imagine, and the best way to keep them safe was to keep them both close.

“Danger lurks everywhere these days,” Kian said, a hand coming up to comb through his blonde hair. “Ye made a wise decision comin’ here, but with Macauley gone, I dinnae think yer plan will work.”

With a sigh, Deirdre deflated a little, and she walked over to the chair, all but collapsing in it. “I dinnae wish tae marry that vile man,” she mumbled, her voice so low that Kian could barely hear it over the crackle of the fire. “The things he tried tae dae tae me…”

“I willnae let him harm ye, ye have me word,” Kian promised Deirdre. Her gaze snapped to him, a little curious and very grateful. “Lana’s family is me family. Ye can stay with us, o’ course, an’ we can make arrangements.”

That seemed to reassure Deirdre. Her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled, though it was little more than a twitch of her lips. Kian, however, was not as reassured by his own words.

He thought about their options. Deirdre could stay there with them, and she would most likely be safe while they dealt with Cummings and Shane Hay. But if Shane somehow got to her, he could still try to force her into a marriage as long as she was a maiden, despite her having taken her vows. He apparently did not care about that detail. Then again, Cummings could do the same if he wanted to take control of the Hay Clan. Perhaps they could wait it out and see whether Cummings and Shane would destroy each other, avoiding them lots of trouble if they were lucky.

But if they weren’t so lucky, the two men could end up becoming partners, surely causing danger to everyone around them.

All roads seemed to point to the same thing: Deirdre had to marry.

The best option was, of course, Macauley. The two of them knew each other well and from Macauley’s reports, Kian knew that they had become close friends. That was already a positive if compared to most married couples he knew.

But if Macauley didn’t return for a long time, they ran the risk of Shane attacking first and Deirdre had to be married before that happened. That left the second-best option open to them. Drawing a deep breath to steel himself, Kian looked at her, trying to appear as soft as he could while he was still wearing the mask.

“Deirdre… I ken it is far from ideal, but would ye be willin’ tae marry me?”

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“Aye,” said Deirdre in a whisper. “Please, Kian . . . make me yers.”

Kian couldn’t deny such a sweet request. He wanted nothing more than to give her what she was asking for, to sink himself inside her and share in her pleasure. He kissed her and dragged his hands all over her body, enjoying her warmth, feeling the swell of her curves under her clothes before he pushed up her tunic, exposing her body to his gaze.

Deirdre was outlined in the soft light of the torch, her skin glowing under the flames. He couldn’t resist the sight of her full breasts and he leaned closer to mouth at the soft skin, gasping as Deirdre’s hands threaded through his hair and tugged.

Though the room was secluded, it was far from private, but there was an exhilaration in the risk, in the chance that they would be caught. He doubted anyone would come near, but he did his best to keep himself quiet anyway, though Deirdre didn’t seem to have the same luck—or concern. Perhaps she was already too far gone to care and Kian couldn’t help but preen at the thought that he had managed to bring her to that point.

When she wrapped herself around him, arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, clinging to him like she wanted to pull him impossibly close, Kian smirked against her cheek and reached between them, her tunic falling back down to her thighs. His fingers found her opening and when he first touched her, she gasped, her hips mirroring the movements of his hand as he caressed her folds. As he found her most sensitive spot, rubbing slow, gentle circles against her, Deirdre buried her face in his neck with a moan, her lips pressing on his heated skin.

He loved those sounds she made for him, loved that he could make her sing like this. They made him ache, his manhood hardening until he had no choice but to rub up, trying to relieve some of the pressure. The more they did this, the more she seemed to open up to him, her shame diminishing with every orgasm he gave her, and Kian couldn’t wait for the day when she wouldn’t be ashamed of her desire at all, when she would take everything, she wanted from him.

“I want . . .” Deirdre said, but she didn’t finish her sentence. She lifted her head and Kian saw the collar on her cheeks, bright red even in the half-light of the room.

“What dae ye want?” Kian asked, leaning closer to kiss and bite at her neck, gently pinching the delicate skin between his teeth. He wanted her to say it, to let go of any embarrassment she was still holding. “Ye have tae tell me if ye want me tae give it tae ye.”

“Ye ken what I want,” Deirdre said. “Dinnae tease me.”

“I’m nae teasin’,” Kian said, though it was a lie, at least partly. He did want to tease her, but he also wanted her to tell him so that she could see it wasn’t that serious and certainly nothing that should bring her shame. “I only wish tae give ye precisely what ye want.”

No words came past Deirdre’s lips, but Kian was determined to do nothing more than kiss her and touch her gently, until she had no option but to ask for more. His hands worked her faster and though she still hesitated to speak, she whimpered, wetness dripping between her thighs.

“I want ye tae have me,” she said, cheeks burning. “Properly this time. I wish tae be yers.”

Groaning softly, Kian nodded and immediately abandoned his pretenses. After he hooked his arms under her thighs, he pulled them flush together, Deirdre sitting on the very edge of the table, her chest heaving with anticipation. When Kian’s hand returned between her legs, one of his fingers plunged inside her for the first time, ripping a broken moan out of her.

Knowing it was her first time, Kian moved slowly, exploring her body at his leisure and trying to make her relax and open up for him. She was beautiful like that, her thighs spread wide for him, her breasts bouncing, her nipples hardened in the chill of the room, poking against the fabric of her tunic. He loved the way her back arched for him, the way she took him inside her as if he belonged there. Now she was eager for it, pleas tumbling past her lips with every thrust of his fingers.

“Please, Kian,” Deirdre said, reaching for him, trying to pull him even closer. “I need ye.”

“Patience, love,” Kian said with a soft chuckle. “I dinnae wish tae hurt ye.”

Deirdre was having none of it, though, and she sat up, grabbing Kian by the back of her neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss. “I’m ready,” she said. “I said I need ye.”

Chuckling again, Kian shook his head, but he didn’t try to argue this time. He knew better than that. “As ye wish,” he said, pushing her back down on the table. “Ye’ll tell me if ye wish tae stop?”

Deirdre nodded, breathing heavily. Kian teased her a little more, playing with her breasts, her nipples, wanting to drive her crazy with lust. After he pushed up his tunic, Kian took his length in his hand and leaned closer. At the first press of his manhood against her, Kian wondered, for a moment, if he should have prepared her more, but then her folds parted for him and he finally entered her, his entire body trembling with the effort it took to move slowly.

It took a few shallow, careful thrusts before Kian could bury himself inside her, the soft drag of skin against skin tearing a groan out of him that he couldn’t stop no matter how much he tried. Deirdre’s back arched of the table when he was as deep as he could go inside her, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist. Her hands reached for his shoulders, holding onto him as he gave her thrust after thrust, pushing himself impossibly deep, as if he wanted them to become one.

Deirdre was a vice around him, tight and hot and velvety around him, her body pulling him deeper and deeper. His hands were bruising on her thighs, his fingers digging into her flesh while her nails scraped down his back, surely leaving marks behind.

“Yer so bonnie like this, moanin’ fer me,” Kian said, his voice low and rumbling in his chest. “I wish tae hear ye. Dinnae hold back.”

With every thrust of his hips, Kian brought himself closer and closer to the edge, heat curling in his stomach. He was chasing his release, but he wanted to bring Deirdre to the brink first, to feel her come apart around him. When he reached between their bodies once more, thumbing over her folds and dragging her wetness up to circle that spot again, her climax crashed over her almost instantly, tearing a scream of pleasure out of her.

Kian groaned as Deirdre squeezed around him. He grabbed her thighs and spread them open once more, burying himself inside her to the hilt and watching as she threw her head back in ecstasy. The few thrusts that followed were fast and erratic, until he stilled above her, spilling himself inside her as he moaned her name, his orgasm so intense that his knees barely held him.

For a few moments, they both remained still, breathing each other’s air, both basking in the afterglow. It was Kian who moved first, pulling himself back from Deirdre with some difficulty, everything inside him screaming at him to stay where he was, to keep her in his arms. He took her hand and pulled her up into a kiss, and Deirdre kissed him sweetly, her arms coming to wrap around his neck, smiling against his lips.

Prologue

January, 1652

McLaren Castle, Scotland

Rae McLaren never enjoyed sneaking. Even as children, he didn’t enjoy hide and seek as much as his brothers Torion and Kai had. He preferred games of performance and laughter, when he could put a smile on someone’s face. But that very night, he was going to freeze his bollocks off, to sneak out of his home, McLaren Castle, to meet someone out in the nearby woods. He didn’t want to, but he had to. And the other problem was, no one else could know about it.

“Shite,” he whispered into the dark passage when he tripped over something.

It was far too bloody dark, and he didn’t dare light a candle in case someone noticed him. He shuddered, though, trying to push away from his mind the memories of being captive a few years back. The jail cells have been dark as pitch most of the time until a guard would come to torture him or his brothers, bringing a light with them. All that constant darkness did things to a man, and he’d never quite gotten over the fear of it.

“Rae.” A soft voice punctured the dark, and a hand touched his arm.

He swore again, loudly and with fear, twisting around to see a young, pretty maid named Aimee. Her candle was so low, he’d hardly noticed it, but now he could see a bit of light on her face.

“Aye, lass?” he asked in his typical charming style, trying to act as though he wasn’t doing anything unusual, bumbling around in a passage, late at night, in the dark.

Aimee was his latest flirtation, and he enjoyed her company immensely and all her obvious physical advantages. Now was not the time for any sort of liaison, even though he could see a little hope in her eyes.

“I thought perhaps we might meet tonight. I followed ye, but ye didnae see me.” She gave him a shy smile, lowering her eyelashes just so and fluttering them in a way ladies often looked at him.

He laughed, trying to push aside the nervousness and urgency that clawed at him. He didn’t know what lay for him in the woods, but all he did know was that he needed to get there. Besides, he had no interest in spending longer outside in the cold winter air than he had to.

“Och, what a temptation that is, love, but I’m afraid I cannae. I am bloody tired tonight, and I have tae fetch somethin’ I left in the stable before bed.” He hooked a thumb to the door behind him. “I want tae only give ye the best, and tonight is just nae the night. I dae have a reputation tae uphold, ye ken.” He winked at her, and even in the dim light he could see her pretty blush.

“Although another night, I would be happy tae indulge.” He leaned forward, lifted her chin, and placed a soft kiss on her lovely lips.

“Rae,” she whined, holding onto his coat. “Ye have seemed so tense these last few days.”

Aye, because I got a bloody letter from Laird Rendell, askin’ tae meet him tonight in the woods. It is nay wonder I am on edge.

But he couldn’t say all that, and in response, he just smiled at her. Everything was always easier when he smiled. Women simpered, and hard men softened; disagreements were smoothed over with ease. He also didn’t have to remember the pain he experienced in the past, the loss of his father or the torture he and his brothers went through. He could simply laugh and smile, and try to forget all the bad things. It had worked for him mostly.

“Ye are right about that. Much tae dae, lass. In this castle with me brothers so lovelorn as they are, too busy pleasurin’ their wives tae dae their proper duties.”

Aimee gave him a seductive look, and she leaned up on her toes to whisper in his ear, “Aye, but we could be daein’ those same things, and perhaps that would relieve yer stress a bit. I ken that Laird Kai and Torion are the better for all that pleasurin’ ye speak of.”

Rae was feeling impatient, but he didn’t show it. He never showed it, especially not to someone he hardly knew. Well, he knew Aimee in one particular way, but that was the only way. He took her hand, and laid a kiss on the back of it, squeezing it gently.

“Ye are a saint, lass, and I swear I will take ye up on that offer another time.” This time, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “A good night tae ye.”

He backed away then towards the door at the end of the passage, and she waved at him before he shut it. A big gust of winter wind rushed over him, and he wrapped his arms about himself, swearing loudly again.

It is enough tae freeze nae only me bollocks but also me stalk!

There was no time to think of that now. He had to get to the meeting place in the woods, and then hopefully he could figure out whatever Laird Rendell wanted from him. But knowing the man, and knowing what Rae had done to his family, he knew that it wouldn’t be good.

Perhaps I should have stayed me hand.

He had thought about that for months after the battle against Laird Rendell to rescue both Torion and his now wife Adelaide as well as her half-brother Cillian from the evil laird ‘s clutches. Rae had been trying to save his brother, so he killed Laird Rendell’s eldest son, and then he thought it would all be over. But then the letter came, and his fear was high.

The night was a quiet one. Being as cold as it was, Rae was certain nothing could live outside. The only sound was the crunching of the hard ground under his boots. He kept a hand on the hilt of his sword. He had to skirt around the edge of the castle and then rush to the stables, keeping to the walls so as to not alert any of the guards on the battlements about what he was doing.

The last thing I need is either Kai or Torion houndin’ me with their bloody questions. They might be busy pleasurin’ their wives, but they are never too busy tae get into me business.

Now at the edge of the trees, he took a breath before he stepped inside. Pulling out his sword, he held it tight in his hand, keeping it forward to protect himself from anyone who would rush out at him. It took him a minute to find the spot that Laird Rendell had mentioned. He only knew where it would be in dim light because he knew his land so well. He paused, his breath now making white curls into the air.

God, it’s bloody freezin’. At least the moon is high, so it is nae as dark as in the passage.

And then he gasped, his every muscle taut as he felt the ice-cold tip of a blade at his throat. “Drop yer weapons,” a voice said, and Rae stood stock still, and he dropped his sword to the ground with a thump.

He held up his hands and he asked, “Are ye here on Laird Rendell’s behalf?” He knew it was not the laird himself, for he didn’t recognize his voice.

“Aye. I am his advisor, Sutcliffe.”

However, the blade didn’t move. Rae was concerned that he had fallen into a trap stupidly, but what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t tell his brothers about the letter. He was the one who had killed the man’s son anyway. He would have to suffer the consequences. Besides, it was not as if there was anyone waiting for him back at the castle, no lovely wife to warm his bed or his heart.

Nae that I have ever wanted more than a passin’ dalliance.

But in that moment, that idea of having someone who cared enough to wait back at home for him felt strangely important. He closed his eyes and remained standing still.

“So, will ye kill me now then?” he asked casually, even as a little fear fluttered his veins. “It might be best if ye’d get on with it because it is cold enough out here tae freeze a priest’s arse off.”

The advisor let out a small chuckle, but there was no mirth in it. “I could kill ye, I suppose. It would certainly help Laird Rendell get the revenge he’s been wantin’.”

Oh, so that was the truth of it. Rae could not say that he was surprised, but if the man had planned his revenge, why not kill him soon after the battle? Instead, he’d waited months.

“So?” He laughed this time, always trying to keep his cheery facade until the end. He would not show fear even if his throat was going to be slit that very night. “Are ye goin’ tae dae it, or nae?”

“Nae.” The man removed the blade, and then he pushed Rae forward, picking up his sword as he did so.

Rae could now see the man in the moonlight. He was about Laird Rendell’s same age, with dark hair and a dark beard. He wore dark clothes as well without a tartan or kilt in place. He held a dagger and Rae’s sword, and he was pointing them both at Rae.

“Listen tae me, lad, and listen closely. The laird wants revenge.”

“Aye, ye’ve said.” Rae’s one hand was on his hip, and the other was making a motion to encourage the man to speed up his story.

“After ye killed his heir, the laird was devastated. He hasnae been the same since, and I have seen the man. He is broken.”

Rae said nothing. He might have made another joke again, perhaps saying something like ‘good’, but he kept his mouth shut. Even if the man was their enemy and had overseen the tortures of him and his brothers and so many others, Rae could have stayed his hand and refrained from killing the man’s heir and eldest son in front of his eyes. It had not been the son’s fault. After he’d been captured and tortured, Rae had promised himself that he would never be like those men, full of evil and hatred and cruelty.

But perhaps I am after all.

“He wants payback for what ye did, and ye are goin’ tae help him get it.”

Rae put both hands on his hips now. He stared at the man. He considered fighting him. That would certainly make things easier for the moment, but he was certain that Laird Rendell would only exact a greater revenge, and it seemed the man was keen for something else, something that did not include losing his life.

“What if I say nay?”

The advisor chuckled again. “I wouldnae advise it.”

Rae rolled his eyes at the poor attempt to make a joke. “Tell me then. What is it?”

The advisor put an envelope into his hand, and he opened it, his blood chilling when he saw what it was. It was a lock of Kai’s long brown hair. He would know it anywhere for his brother’s hair had a distinct color.

“What are ye tellin’ me?” Rae asked, stuffing it into the envelope and closing it again, as if that could help him avoid the revenge that Laird Rendell wanted him to exact upon him.

“I am sayin’ that clearly ye can see how close we can get tae yer brothers and their wives if we wish tae.”

Rae took a breath, trying to calm his fear. He had so hoped that things were over, that they could focus on a beautiful future. “We could easily kill them as payback for what ye’ve done. It seems only fair. Ye take an heir from Laird Rendell, and he takes yer whole bloody family.”

Rae swallowed. “What does he want me tae dae so that doesnae happen?”

“That’s better. Wise lad, it seems.” The advisor began to motion with his two weapons as he spoke. “There is a young woman who has the greatest dowry in the Highlands. She is nae yet married, and Rendell wants ye tae pretend tae marry her, get the dowry, and it will go straight tae him. Or ye can marry her if ye like, he couldnae care less. But all the laird wants is the money.”

Rae frowned. “Why does he nae have his other son marry her? Surely that would be a far easier plan, and he could get the money that way. Why would he need me then?”

The advisor shook his head. “Nae possible. The lass is cursed, and it is rumored that something kills her fiancés just before their wedding day. So, he cannae risk his son’s life. Surely, ye ken the rumors about Líadan Stuart.”

Rae did know that name, and he had heard of her, if only in whispers, but he was still confused. “So, then if she kills me, how will ye get the money? Surely, she doesnae give the dowry tae each of these men and then kill them.”

The advisor threw him a dark look. “Ye are a warrior, and now that ye ken the secrets about her, ye will be sure tae stay alive for long enough for the dowry tae make it into Laird Rendell’s hand. Besides, ye are only attemptin’ tae marry her because of this and nae from some misguided desire which has clouded the others’ judgment. Once he gets the money, his revenge will be complete, and the laird will let ye live. If yer fiancée doesnae kill ye first.”

“What of this money? He is suddenly in need?”

“Aye. After the loss of so many of his men as well as his heir, and the loss of financial support from the other Earl of Seton yer sister-in-law’s brother killed, he needs the money tae build up what he has lost.” He pointed the sword at him again. “Ye dinnae need tae ken more. Ye will agree, or yer family will die. It is as simple as that.

Rae stood still for a few seconds as he thought about it. He had heard the rumors of her curse, but he had no belief in curses. He was not a Scotsman from a faraway village. He was a Laird ‘s son and had been given a proper education. He had no desire to wed, nor to be involved with Laird Rendell any more than he had to be. However, he could see no other choice. Clearly, they could get close to his family, and his brothers had only just found happiness and peace at long last. He refused to be the one to break that up.

“Fine then. Agreed. Now leave me be, so that I can go back inside.”

“The Stuart Castle is nae far from here. Ye will go in one month tae offer yerself. The other fiancée only died a few months ago, and there needs tae be some time for it tae nae look suspicious afore ye arrive.”

Rae swallowed, what he was going to tell his brothers about his sudden departure. “Aye, I am agreed. Now give me me sword back.”

The man hesitated and Rae laughed. “What good would killin’ ye dae for me?”

The advisor then handed him his sword, and Rae didn’t look back as he ran out of the woods. He knew what he had to do, but he was left with a little uneasiness.

She couldnae really be cursed, could she?

Chapter One

One Month Later

Somewhere in the Highland woods

“Yer cursed.”

Líadan Stuart stood outside of a small wooden cottage. It was covered in moss and ivy, and if one were a little farther away, they would think the cottage was a part of the forest, not a home where a witch lived. But the door was open, and the woman with long dark hair was standing in front of her staring at Líadan with a keen eye as she took her in from head to toe. Líadan hadn’t even had a chance to speak before the witch claimed that she was cursed.

“Aye. Ye ken this even afore I’ve told ye.”

The older woman shrugged, her arms crossing over her large bosom. “It is the way.”

Líadan was nervous. So nervous, in fact, that she put her hands behind her back, afraid that the witch could see them shaking. She had heard of this woman from her young lady’s maid, Elspeth, who was keen to help her after the third death of her betrothed. There had been rumors of a witch not too far from Stuart Castle, and so Líadan had taken it upon herself to go and seek her out. She had traveled a long way in hopes that the curse could be broken. It was her last hope.

“Come in,” the witch said, passing to the side so that Líadan could step inside the cottage.

She jumped a little when the door closed behind her. Room was lit by a fire and a couple of candles, but it still felt dark and heavy. The scent of spicy sweetness in the air, and Líadan wondered if she made a mistake coming all that way. Was it wise to dabble in magic?

Aye, when this curse has kept me from a life that I wanted, one I have yearned for with all me heart.

She turned around to face the woman. “Sit there,” the supposed witch said, pointing along finger at a chair by the fire.

Líadan was grateful to sit close to the warmth. It was winter now, and it was so cold she could nearly feel her limbs freezing. She pulled her cloak tighter and sat down.

“I am—”

“I ken who ye are. There are nae many who dinnae.”

Líadan shut her mouth as the witch sat across from her. “Me name is Mara, and ye are Líadan Stuart, daughter tae the deceased Laird Stuart and sister tae the new one, with the telltale sign of beautiful long gray hair, even at yer young age. How old are ye, lass?”

“Twenty-four.” Her hands moved to touch the ends of her long hair, which reached below her breasts.

Besides the curse, it was the other thing she hated most about herself. Who had ever heard of a young woman with long, gray hair? She worried it made her look like a witch herself. However, that had not stopped her fiancés from asking her to marry them. But they had never been able to make it to the wedding day. A little coil of hopelessness circled in her chest. Would this be forever?

“Ye have come tae ask for help tae rid yerself of yer curse.”

Líadan folded her hands on her lap and nodded. “Aye. It has been far too long, and I cannae take it any longer.”

Her eyes were wet with tears, but she turned her face to the fire, hopeful that they would not fall. She had no wish to appear weak, but she had had enough of this curse, and she wanted her life back. She had no idea why this curse had been put upon her anyway.

Aye, ye dae. Ye were the one who stole yer mother’s life when ye were born. Ye took her beauty as well, so they say.

Mara settled into her seat, her hands gripping the arms of the chair, and Líadan could feel the woman’s eyes on her, studying her. The woman had long dark hair, but there was something both youthful and ancient about her. She wore thick, woolen clothing that covered a body of medium-build. Líadan had not known what to expect from a witch when she’d first laid eyes upon this one, but she wasn’t sure this was it. If she had to guess, Líadan would have been unable to decide Mara’s age.

“Tell me, lass. How did ye hear of me?”

“Surely ye ken the rumors,” Líadan said, only making Mara chuckle.

“Aye, of course. How could I nae? But I wonder who could have told ye where I lived.”

“Me lady’s maid. She is a good, kind girl, and she kens just how desperate I am for this curse tae be broken. She said if anyone could help me, it would be ye?”

Mara nodded once before she asked, “How many fiancés have there been before they’ve all been found dead?”

“Three.” She swallowed, turning to gaze at Mara again.

“And accordin’ tae the tales, they have all died the night before yer weddin’. Is that it?”

Líadan nodded, her mind flashing back to each moment when she heard that her latest fiancé was also found dead. “The first was killed by being thrown from his horse on the way tae me castle. The next was durin’ a sudden attack from an enemy afore he was set tae travel tae Stuart lands. And then the last was poisoned by his own kin so that his brother could take the lairdship.”

Mara slowly nodded, and desperate, Líadan said, “Surely, these could all be considered coincidences, nay? But people like tae claim that I am the one that has killed them or perhaps asked for them tae be killed. But it is nae me. I swear it!” She felt a few tears fall down her eyes, and she wiped one from her cheek as she continued. “I have wanted tae get married, tae help me clan as well as find a love that I can have in life. It makes nay sense for me tae be daein’ this tae anyone!”

She hadn’t realized how loud her voice had gotten until she saw Mara’s hands make a motion to quiet, and she shushed her in a soothing tone. The effect was strong, and Líadan felt her racing heart calm, and she sat back in her seat.

“I ken that me mother died in childbirth, but surely it cannae be me who stole her breath. I was only a child.” Her voice was small now, and all the fears she’d had about why she was the way she was came rolling back.

She had held onto this guilt for so long, she couldn’t remember a time without it. But now that she needed to marry to help the clan, she wanted it to be over. She wanted to be able to move on with her life.

“Aye, of course, lass.” Mara’s voice was calm, and it made Líadan remain calm as well. “But there is nay requirement for ye tae marry, is there?”

Líadan looked down at her hands, now glad that she could feel her fingers again after her time traveling out of doors. “Nay. Me laird brother, Kaden, tells me that I dinnae need tae. But as ye likely ken, our clan is one of the wealthiest in the Highlands. With that much money, we are open tae dangerous attacks, and I wish tae help me brother and sister tae be safe and happy. If I dinnae wed, then me sister Étaín will be forced tae dae so.” She shook her head. “She is younger, and I dinnae wish for yer tae have tae dae that.”

“I see.” Mara rose and poured a drink into two cups. She handed one to Líadan and sat down again. “It is only spiced wine,” she said with a slight chuckle as Líadan had looked into the cup with slight trepidation.

“Thank ye.”

She took a long sip and let out a large sigh. “There are two other men whom still wish tae marry me, and they will be comin’ tae see them tomorrow. I wish for this curse tae be lifted so that one of them could be me husband in truth. That I could finally have a normal life.”

Mara’s eyes narrowed. “I ken nae the use of a normal life, as ye say, but I understand yer frustration. Lookin’ at ye, I can tell that the curse is alive and well. A curse hangs on a person and only a refined few can see it’s vibrations.” She looked her up and down. “However, the curse can only be lifted in a specific way.”

“How?” Líadan nearly dropped the cup of wine in her shock. No one who had attempted to lift the curse before had ever mentioned that. They had always been so confident that they could remove it for good and in full. “There really is a way?”

“Aye. But I dinnae think that ye are goin’ tae like it.”

“It is better than empty promises from people who realize that they cannae remove the curse after all. What is it?”

Her hands tightened around the cup, and her blue eyes widened with hope.

Mara frowned a little. “I’m afraid that the curse is specific. The only way it can be broken is if ye find true love.”

All the wind came out of Líadan’s sails. “I could never hope for true love. Everyone is afraid of me. It is only the bravest as well as the most money-focused whom I can find for meself. And we hurry tae wed because of the curse. There is never enough time for me tae find true love!” She leaned back again, finishing off the wine and starting to worry that the curse could never be ended.

“Listen, lass. When ye find the right man, the curse can be broken, for there is a man, and he will be the one tae break it.”

She blinked at Mara, wondering if she should just leave and forget all this nonsense. “How will I ken who this man is? He could be anyone!”

“Well, he will be the man who willnae die.”

Mara was grinning, but Líadan was frustrated. “Well, then, I would marry him of course. But I dinnae see how true love has anythin’ tae dae with it.”

“The man who disnae die is meant for ye, so that is why the curse will be broken because he will be yer true love. Love is the only thing stronger than magic, for it is the greatest magic of all. People believe that the curse is because of the death of yer mother while givin’ birth tae ye, but it is the opposite.”

She shook her head with a soft smile. “With her dyin’ breath, yer mother placed this curse upon ye. She knew she was dyin’ and so she couldnae protect ye herself. She put this in the place so that only the man who is good enough for ye, lass, and who loves ye with everythin’ in him will be the one tae be yer husband.”

Líadan could feel the tears coming again, and the ache in her chest had only gotten stronger. But those words comforted her. For her whole life she had feared her mother had hated her because Líadan had been the one to kill her. But this turned everything on its head.

“I see.”

“Here is another clue. Only the person ready tae die for yer sake willnae die by the curse. When ye find a man who is willin’ tae die for ye, then ye’ll ken that he is the right one. Nay curse would be strong enough tae stop that love.”

While she thought, Mara poured her more wine, Líadan felt an odd flicker of hope. Perhaps there could be someone after all. She wondered if after all her waiting she could finally feel the true love of a man, feel his touch, and his kiss before it is too late.

“Thank ye, Mara. Ye have given me what nay one else could.”

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