Scent of Scotland Page 8

  "The bond between us is too strong for either of our wills to deny it," he told me.

  I turned to him and frowned. "I have no bond with-" My words caught in my throat as his eyes caught mine.

  I felt myself falling into his gaze as he stepped up and placed his hands on my shoulders. His touch was warm and soothing. A part of me, the deepest part of me, begged for more.

  "I would have this different if I could," he whispered to me as he studied my face. One of his hands reached up and brushed away a long strand of my hair. "I would court you for decades if that is what you wished, but this-" He turned away and clenched his teeth. "This need will not allow me. It will not allow either of us to choose the speed at which we court one another."

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I don't understand. What is this need you and I both feel? Why does this bond exist?" I opened my eyes and found that he looked once more at me.

  "You and I are bound together. We were bound together the day the last of us was born," he explained.

  "Bound by what? Blood? Allegiances?" I guessed as I tried to make sense of the burning desire inside me.

  "By the wolf. It is a creature that gnaws at us for a taste of freed," he told me. He brushed the back of his hand against my cheek and I leaned into his touch. His smile returned and the heat in his gaze burned anew. "It desires the touch of their mate, their chosen soul whom they would couple with."

  "Soul mates. . ." I murmured.

  He gave a nod. "Soul mates. Husband and wife. Lovers." He panted for breath, and the hands that held my shoulders shuddered. "I. . .I can no longer control this beast," he warned me. His voice held a tinge of a growl that excited my passions.

  "Then don't," I whispered.

  His lips curled back in a feral growl, and one of his hands slid down my front and cut away the strings that tied the nightgown around me. He brushed my nightgown from my shoulders and the cloth dropped to the floor. I stood naked before him as I had done the night before, but this time there was no modesty, no shyness on my part. My chest heaved up and down as my swollen breasts ached to be touched. I could no longer deny the beast inside me any more than he. I opened my arms and a smile parted my lips.

  "Take me," I whispered. "Do with me what you will."

  The golden hue in his eyes lit up like a rekindled fire. He wrapped his strong arms around me and embraced me in a passionate kiss. Our lips meshed together as his hands explored my body. They slipped down my sides and glided over my thick hips. My flesh was his to take, to take hold and massage in his firm grasp. I was his possession, his to mold into whatever lustful form he desired, and my soul reveled in the thought that he would make me his again and again.

  His transformation from man to lustful beast was not so severe as the last time. His ears grew to fine points and his muscles stretched and tightened. A wave of hair swept down his back and fine hairs broke from his skin. My tongue flicked out and brushed against his sharpened teeth.

  I pressed against his sensual touch and moaned into our kiss. He growled and broke us apart to press hard, hot kisses down my neck. I tilted my head back to allow him access and pushed my breasts against his chest. My pert buds rubbed against his hard muscles and I moaned as waves of pleasure rippled over my body. I clutched onto his head and wished that this bliss would never end. All that I desired was to be held by this man, this creature, and be ravished by him.

  My lover swept me into his arms and carried me to the bed. He lay me atop the sheets and spread his body over mine. Gone were his pants, and I felt his hot, stiff need against my hip. His warm, wet lips traveled down my body and pressed against my trembling breasts. I squirmed and groaned. The deliciously warm heat inside me was inflamed by his lustful touches. I felt as though I floated in a sea of pleasure, and each wave was bidden by my lover to increase the seductive torture he stoked inside me.

  "Oh God. . ." I murmured as I arched my back.

  He grunted and slipped one of his hands between my legs. His finger slid between my wet, hot folds and brushed against my sensitive nub. I gasped and my hips thrust against his finger. He raised his head and growled at me as his finger rubbed against my womanhood. I lay my head back and groaned as waves of pleasure washed over me.

  "Oh God, yes," I moaned as my hips thrust in time with his finger. My tongue flicked out to wet my dry lips as I panted for air. I clutched the sheets and squirmed beneath him. This was not enough. I needed more. I needed him. "Please take me. Make me yours."

  He spread my legs and positioned himself between them. We both groaned as he pushed deep inside me. Every inch of him rubbed against my womanhood. The overwhelming pleasure forced the lustful beast inside me to the forefront and I relished the freedom she offered me. She knew only carnal desires, and one of those was a wild, unsatiated lust.

  Every part of my body tensed and stretched as my beast and I longed to increase this wonderful desire that burned inside us. My lover thrust hard and long into me, and I growled and matched his movements. Sweat covered our naked bodies as we ground against one another in a furious rut. We both ached to satiate the feral monsters that dwelt inside us, and only orgasmic bliss would appease their lust. The room echoed with his grunts and my pleas as he penetrated me again and again.

  "Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes!" I cried to the world. I moaned and whimpered beneath the blissful delight of my lover's affections. I reveled in his wild caresses and thrashed beneath his tight muscles as he possessed my body and soul. "Faster! Oh God, faster! Take all of me!"

  He growled and quickened his pace beyond what I could follow. I trembled and jerked beneath him as blissful waves of orgasm swept over me.

  "Yes! Yes! My God, yes!" I yelled to the heavens.

  We thrashed about for a few more minutes before our exhausted bodies collapsed onto the sheets. My lover took me in his strong arms and pressed our warm, sweat-covered bodies together. His hand lovingly petted my hair, and I drifted to sleep in the comfort of his company.

  CHAPTER 16

  I was aroused from my slumber by the sensation of movement. Someone carried me in their strong arms. My eyes fluttered open and I looked up into the face of Lord Moray. His lips were pursed together and his dark eyes were obscured by the night around us. I was again attired in my nightgown, and he in his full regalia. He carried me down the darkened passages of his home, and I recognized the hall in which lay my own chambers. We slipped into my room and he carried me across the floor to my bed. I was still exhausted and could barely keep my eyes open.

  "What is all a dream?" I whispered to him.

  He stood over me and shook his head. "It was not," he replied.

  A warm glow swept over me, but the happiness inside me was marred by his dour look. I furrowed my brow and tilted my head to one side as it lay on the pillows. "Do you regret what we've done?" I asked him.

  He blinked at me. "Do you not regret our union?" he returned.

  I smiled at him and shook my head. "No."

  He knelt beside me and clasped one of my hands in his. His eyes looked into mine and his voice trembled. "Do you jest, or can it be that you have feelings for me?"

  I reached up and cupped his cheek in my palm. "I. . .I do not know. Do. . .do you care for me?" I whispered.

  He pressed his hand over mine and smiled. "I do, my love, and wish dearly that you would here with me," he pleaded.

  "I-" I froze. Something moved out side the window behind him. It was a dark, thick shadow.

  He frowned. "What is it?" He turned to follow my gaze, and the moment his eyes fell on the window was when a dark shape crashed through the panes.

  Glass flew across the room and shattered on the floor. The shadow landed in the middle of the mess and turned to us. It was human in shape and draped completely in black clothing. A small sheath pressed against their side and I saw the glint of a silver handle. Moray jumped to his feet and spun around just as the figure lunged at him. The attacker pulled out the weapon and revealed it as a long dagger made entirely
of silver. Moray positioned himself between the cloaked figure and myself.

  The attacker swung the dagger at Moray who lifted his hands to shield himself. My eyes widened as I saw a splash of blood fly from one of his hands and cover the floor with red droplets. He grasped his hand and grimaced in pain as the figure slashed at him. More blood splattered the carpet and Moray fell to his knees. The attacker stood over him and pulled back their arm for another blow that aimed for his neck

  "No!" I screamed as I reached out to him.

  The door swung open and banged against the wall. A dark figure flew into the room and tackled the attacker. They tussled in the background as I crawled off the bed and over to Moray. I reached his side where he sat hunched over. My eyes widened when I beheld the large amount of blood that dripped from his slashed arms and chest. He gasped for air and his trembling hands grasped his open wounds. The blood inside them sizzled, and small wisps of smoke floated from them.

  I grasped his shoulders and winced at the warm blood that covered them. "Can you stand?" I asked him.

  At that moment the fight beneath the window ended when McKenna was thrown from the attacker and landed on the opposite side of the room. The cloaked figure crashed through the broken window and disappeared from sight. McKenna rushed to the sill and leaned over. He frowned and turned his attention to us. Mrs. Greer joined us, and her hand flew to her mouth when her eyes fell on her lord.

  "Good heavens! What's happened?" she asked us as she hurried to his side.

  "It is nothing," Moray choked out.

  McKenna strode over and inspected the lord's wounds. "You have lost a great deal of blood, and the silver has soaked into your body."

  "I will be fine," Moray insisted. He tried to stand, but his legs buckled and he would have dropped to the floor if Greer and I hadn't caught hold of his arms. "Help me to my room."

  "Allow me, my laird," McKenna pleaded.

  McKenna brushed us aside and lifted Moray into his arms as though the lord was no heavier than a child. He strode from the room, and Mrs. Greer and I were quick to follow. The house was quiet but for our hurried footsteps. At the entrance hall Greer grabbed my arm and gently pulled me towards the stairs.

  "We must fetch some water for his wounds," she explained.

  I dumbly nodded and followed her directions. We fetched a basin of hot water and all the cloths we would find. Greer led me to the lord's chambers where we found him on the bed. McKenna stood over him and flung aside the last of his tattered shirt. We walked up to the bed and I gasped.

  The lord's chest was covered in deep gashes, and all of them boiled like hot water. Moray grimaced and clutched the bed.

  "Abby, the water," Greer reminded me.

  "Oh, right. Sorry," I whispered.

  We started our work cleaning the horrible wounds. McKenna stood by one of the windows and watched both us and all the entrances into the room. It was nearly sunrise by the time they were all cleaned and wrapped, and by that time the lord had fallen into a pain-induced sleep. I slipped exhausted onto the floor beside the bed with my back against the sheets while Mrs. Greer dumped the blood-red water out the window. She gathered the cloths into the empty pan and stepped up to my side.

  "Come along now," she whispered to me.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the lord. "Should we not remain with him in case the attacker should return?" I asked her.

  "McKenna will remain with the laird, and you must get some sleep," she insisted as she tugged on my arm. "Now come. You must care for yourself and change your nightgown."

  I hadn't noticed, but my dress was covered in the lord's blood. Greer guided me down the hall, but not to my room. The broken window meant sleeping in my room was all but impossible. Mrs. Greer led me to her room that was situated on the opposite side of the hall and a few doors closer to the entrance hall. She helped me change into a new gown and tucked me into her own bed. For her part she took some unfinished needlework and candle, and walked towards the door.

  "Will you not rest?" I asked her.

  She paused at the door and turned to me with a faint smile. "The laird will need some looking after from a more feminine touch."

  "Then I will go with you," I offered as I flung aside the sheets.

  She shook her head. "No. Your night has been long enough. You get some rest, and I'll have a dress brought in here for when you awake."

  "You're sure?" I persisted.

  "Quite. Now rest." She closed the door behind her.

  I lay down on the pillow and pulled the covers up to my chin. My thoughts swirled around the attacker and the lord's grievous wounds, but the harrowing night ensured I was asleep before many minutes past.

  CHAPTER 17

  The next morning I awoke at midday. Outside the windows the sky was a brilliant blue and the ground was covered in a foot of fresh snow. Not a cloud was to be seen, and, as promised, I found a dress at the foot of the bed. I stepped outside the chambers and nearly ran into one of the chamber maids. She jumped back and bowed her head.

  "Begging your pardon, my lady," she apologized.

  I smiled at her and shook my head. "There's no harm done," I assured her.

  "Then if you'll be excusing me," she replied.

  I reached out my hand to her. "Wait a moment. Is there news of the lord? Is he for the better?" I asked her.

  "He is still taken to his bed," she told me.

  I felt the color drain from my face. "Is he ill?"

  She shook her head. "I know not, my lady."

  I pursed my lips. "I see. That is all I wished to know."

  She bowed to me and hurried off down the hall.

  I now found myself in an awkward situation. I was not bold enough to bother the kitchen staff for a meal, nor could I gather the courage to request a carriage to take me away. I felt I should remain while the lord was confined to his bed. There was also a tug inside me, a sense that leaving the castle would lead to much grief.

  I decided to search out the lord and see for myself how he fared. My memories of the previous night proved true as I retread my steps into the west wing. I turned onto the most westerly passage and glimpsed a familiar person step into the room that lay one door down from the lord's room. McKenna. He closed the door behind himself.

  I strode down the hall and looked at the closed door. Not a sound came from the room. I moved over to the lord's room and opened the door. I found only Mrs. Greer at Moray's bedside and an empty chair stood at her side. She looked up from her needlework and smiled at me.

  "Good morning," she greeted me as she laid the work on her lap. The weakened sun shone through the windows and scared away the dark shadows of the old night. "Were you in want of anything?"

  I moved to her side and shook my head.

  "No, I'm fine," I replied. My eyes fell on the lord. He looked as white as the sheets under which he laid. "Is he well?" I asked her.

  She followed my gaze and sighed. "As well as can be expected. The silver is gone from his body, but his wounds are grievously terrible."

  I took a seat in the spare chair and studied the lord's pale face. "Why did the silver hurt him so?" I wondered.

  "Silver is a poison to werewolves," she explained to me. "Even the slightest touch will burn their skin. To be so sorely wounded by a knife of that metal is terrible."

  I turned to her and blinked. "Then you are not a werewolf?" I guessed.

  She smiled and shook her head. "No, though I am sure you have guessed McKenna is one," she mused.

  I nodded and returned my attention to the lord. "Has he woken?" I asked her.

  She shook her head and resumed her work. "Not yet."

  My eyes swept down his body and I saw that his hand nearest us lay above the covers. I reached out and took hold of his fingers. "Be strong, Lord Moray. . ." I whispered.

  We both started when Moray's eyes flickered open. Greer stood and set her needlework on her chair to stand at his side. He turned his head to us and smiled.

  "Good m
orning," he choked out.

  I returned his smile and blinked to keep back my tears. "Good morning," I returned.

  "How do you feel, my laird?" Greer asked him.

  Moray shifted and winced. "As though a thousand horses had stampeded over me." He turned his attention to the windows and grimaced against the bright light of the old sun. "The storm has passed?" he guessed.

  I bowed my head. "It has," I confirmed.

  He returned his gaze to me and furrowed his brow. "And yet you remain."

  "I wouldn't be so rude as to leave without saying goodbye," I told him.

  Moray chuckled and set his eyes on Greer. "Would you leave us for a moment?"

  Greer furrowed his brow. "But the attacker. They may-"

  "I will be fine," he assured her.

  Mrs. Greer pursed her lips, but bowed her head and left us. The lord returned his attention to me.

  "How do you fare?" he asked me.

  My smile slipped from my face and I hung my head. "Before I answer I feel I. . .I feel I must apologize."

  "For what?" he inquired.

  "If I hadn't distracted you then you would not have been so grievously injured," I admitted. "It was only because you protected me that you came away with such wounds."

  Moray sighed and stared at the canopy above him. "This is not the first attempt on my life," he revealed.

  I started and blinked at him. "It isn't?"

  He shook his head. "No. There have been other attempts, but none so brazen as last night." He turned to me and smiled. "If you hadn't warned me of the window then things would have been far worse for both of us."

  "But-" He grasped my hand and shook his head.

  "No. Blaming yourself will give you nothing but senseless grief. I will recover and-" Moray froze and his eyes hardened.

  I looked to the window and gasped when I glimpsed a dark figure outside. It clung to the wall and was completely cloaked in black. Moray sprang from the bed and pulled me to the floor just as the intruder crashed through the window. He stood over me, and I saw the attacker stand on the opposite side of the bed. In their upraised hand was the silver dagger.

  Moray put his fingers to his lips and blew. I heard nothing, but the attacker dropped the dagger and clutched their ears. At the same moment a portion of the southern wall slid open and revealed a passage. McKenna sprang from the passage and tackled the cloaked figure. They tussled for a brief moment before McKenna gained the upper hand and pinned the person's body to the floor beneath his own. I stood as he threw off the hood and revealed a man of forty who was unknown to me. McKenna grabbed the man's shirt and pulled him off the floor.