Page 15 of To Wed a Highlander
As calm as Kenna looked, studiously absorbing as much knowledge as possible, Niall could sense that she was terrified. The silver moon and golden candlelight turned the copper of her hair into a molten frenzy of precious metals. Her amber eyes were too dark as they tracked his entry into the room, as though the embers behind them were dangerously close to being extinguished.
“You should get some sleep,” he prompted. “I’ll sit watch over you.”
“Nay,” she sighed, returning to her book. “There will be no sleeping tonight. Not until I know that Malcolm and Morgana have arrived.”
Niall moved closer, craving her eyes upon his. Her hands on his skin. That gentle smile upon her face. “I’m sure they’re safe.” He attempted comforting words, which sat upon his tongue less gently than he’d like.
Kenna just shook her head, not looking up from those ancient words in front of her. “No one is safe. Not anymore.” Closing the disturbing cover of the Grimoire, she slid it beneath the faded cushion of the seat, as though the habit of concealing it was an unbreakable one. The moon illuminated her frown with an eerie blue cast when she turned from him to gaze out the window. “They’re out there,” she predicted. “The Wyrd Sisters. I can feel them casting. I wish I knew what they were up to. I wish I knew how to stop them.”
Niall joined her in her inspection of the night, finding only a patina of shadow. “I am sorry I led them to your door,” he murmured, the responsibility of her anxiety weighing heavy on his shoulders. On his heart.
She cast a soft glance his way. “I don’t blame you,” she comforted, much better at it than he. “I think it was inevitable that they find me here. That we were kidding ourselves to think that we could outrun a Prophecy as powerful as this one.”
Niall hated that she sounded as though she’d already lost, the defeat etched into the hunch of her shoulders and the dips between her brows. He reached for her jaw, which felt as brittle as glass as he cupped it in his hand. “Accept me, Kenna, as your mate,” he commanded in a husky whisper. “And together we will vanquish your enemies, or be sent to the afterlife in the attempt.”
A tear snaked from the corner of her eye and dripped onto his palm where it branded all the way to his heart. “Don’t you understand, Berserker?” she murmured. “This may be the end. Ofeverything. This is no time to begin a life together. To make promises we may not have made otherwise. I don’t know you. I don’t even think I like you very much—”
Niall lay a finger against her lips, wishing he could do anything to ease the burdens weighing his little mate down. “The Romans have a charming saying by which I have always lived.Carpe Diem. Seize the day.” He motioned out the window. “Or the night, as the case may be. We’re never promised tomorrow, little Druid, only this moment.”
She stared at him for a second, her lips trembling behind his fingers doing strange and soft things to his insides. “I hate the Romans,” she surprised him by saying, pulling out of his gentle palm to stand.
Niall let out a bark of amusement. “We all do, but they are a quotable lot. My point is, you should accept me. If you do, you’ll make me nigh on five times as powerful as I am now. I’ll conjure you fire that you cannot conjure yourself to wield as you desire. I’ll give my life to protect you and pledge my Berserker beast to your service.”
Feeling rather proud and poetic, he was certain there was no lass alive who could refuse such a declaration. He was Niall Thorsen, after all, pride of his people and slayer of armies. And finally he’d found a battle worth winning, and a woman worth fighting for. He could barely believe his good fortune.
“How do you know I cannot conjure fire?” she asked dubiously.
“Because my power belongs in my senses, and I’ve observed that you never create fire, only wield what is already burning.”
She stared at him in stunned silence for a moment before whispering, “I’m sorry, but the answer is Nay.”
“Nay?” he echoed, as though the word held no meaning to him. “Why not?”
“How can I? Moreover, how canyoube thinking of such things now? Do you not understand? The servants of evil are out there, bringing the wrath of hell along with them. Everything, the fate of the entire world is on the line, waiting to be snatched out of our grasp. I don’t have time to be anyone’s mate.”
Niall shook his head, careful not to scoff or condescend. She was young, and afraid. “Kenna,” he crooned her name, crowding her into the bookshelf with his body and trailing his finger along the intriguing neckline of the red frock she’d donned.
A ceremonial color, if he had to guess.
“You shouldn’t be so afraid of losing something that you don’t let yourself have it. Life is to live, and I think you’ve forgotten that by locking yourself in this cold abbey devoid of happiness and focusing your every day on duty and prayer. If you don’t allow yourself pleasure, leisure, risk and reward, then why bother?”
“Because I must!” She pushed against his chest, her tears of pain becoming ones of anger and bitterness. “Because itismydutyto keep the Grimoire safe and duty is all I have left! I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved. My parents. My uncle and king. Morgana and Malcolm. And now I’ve found them only in time to call them to what possibly could be their demise.” She turned from him, her small body trembling with sobs that must have been locked away for the space of untold moons.
“Don’t you see?” she lamented. “I can’t bind my heart and soul to yours only to lose you. I will not let you be my last failure on this earth.ThatI could not bear.”
His fingers closed around her heaving shoulders, drawing her back to lean against his chest so he could encompass her with his arms. “Don’t cry, my mate,” he murmured against her fragrant curls, her every sob tearing away a piece of his soul. “That is whatIcannot bear.”
She turned in his arms and collapsed against him, her shudders and convulsions increasing. “I feel I’m not strong enough,” she sobbed against his chest, her tears tickling against his skin. “I fear I will not be able to stand against them. That I will let them defeat me.”
Niall threaded his hands into her hair cupping her scalp and pulling her back to look at him. “Take me then, little Druid,” he commanded. “Take my strength and use it in your battle. I will gladly give it to you, my mate, and let you wield it against our enemies.”
“But…” she sniffed. “We’ll have to…”
A wicked smile stretched Niall’s lips as anticipatory lust speared him. “I’ll just have to tolerate it, I suppose, benevolent marauder that I am.”
The sparks rekindled in her eyes, as well, and Niall had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. “If you’re offering your power, you’ll have to give it to me where before I took.”
“I’ll give it to you,” he promised with a husky growl, and yanked her dress from her body.
