Mael: Immortal Highlander, Clan Mag Raith Book 2 Page 9

  “Pritani.” Iolar struck the side of the tunnel with a swipe of his claws, sending a shower of sparks to bounce around Galan’s boots. “Those fucking rebels could not have done this alone.”

  Galan seized on the chance to enhance the prince’s suspicions and deflect blame from himself. “Before the Mag Raith left the mortal realm their tribe trained Edane, the archer, to serve as shaman. Mayhap one of your kind told him how ’twas to be done.” He gestured toward the cave entrance. “I shall search the area for tracks or other trace of their passage.”

  “Take the deamhanan with you,” Iolar ordered. The prince looked over as the four demons who served as his lieutenants approached. “You useless idiots will find out who among us is the traitor or I will assume it was all of you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  ROSEALISE’S HANDS FELL as she watched Mael back away from her. He looked as if he were in torment, until his shoulder touched the door. He turned and yanked it open.

  “We cannae stay here,” he said, jutting his chin toward the wall where the arch had appeared. He extended his hand.

  He wasn’t leaving her. Her heart filled with such jubilation she thought it might burst from her body. She took his hand and he led her into his chamber. Once inside he moved the bolt bar, slipping it into the catch.

  “Your head’s clear?” he asked her, his tone soft but intent as he took a step toward her. “You ken in truth what you’re asking of me?”

  “Entirely.” She moved toward him now, because to be apart from him had become suddenly and absolutely unbearable. To speak honestly made her tremble, for it seemed so blunt and unladylike, but she could no longer deny her desires, either. “I want what we had in that terrible place, Mael. What we gave to each other in those wretched times. The beauty and grace that we found together.”

  By that moment only scant inches separated them, and still he did not put his hands on her. This close his strong, broad body seemed especially massive, and as still as if hewn from stone. His scent had grown intense, as if fire surrounded them in a forest ablaze. Her own blended with it in the space between them, and he breathed in deeply before he lifted his fingers to her cheek.

  “The beauty and grace, ’tis all yours.” He traced her cheekbone and jaw line. “As a priceless jewel you are, my jem, and I’m as a lad with his first lass.”

  It didn’t surprise her to feel the slight tremor from the fingertips dancing over her skin. It matched the frantic pounding of her heart.

  “I too feel a little fraught. Any word I may say now could force you to act against your will.”

  He touched his mouth to her brow before he looked into her eyes. “Naught you want shall I ever deny you. I’m yours.”

  Rosealise took hold of his hands, and brought them to the hem of her tunic. “I wish to be wholly naked with you again, as we were in the pool.” Together they lifted the garment over her head, baring her to the waist. Then she released her hair from its twist.

  Mael brushed her hair back from her face and shoulders, and looked down at her heaving breasts for a long moment. “I’d feel all of your lovely body on mine.”

  In the same manner they undressed each other. Once they stood naked the heat of their bodies dispelled the last of Rosealise’s unsteady nerves. How could she fear such a man, when every tough bulge and broad expanse of his frame made her fingers and lips tingle so madly? She eliminated the last gap between them, and the paleness of her thin skin against his darker, harder flesh made her feel beyond elated.

  “Jenna and Domnall share the same skinwork,” he murmured. “Yours looks the reflection of my own.” He touched her thigh, and caught his breath as he met her gaze. “Do you feel that, inside you?”

  Rosealise nodded, her lashes lowering as the sparkling exhilaration raced through her skin. “I feel the same each time you come close to me.”

  “I hate that they branded you,” Mael said as he moved his hand along the glyphs. “But ’tis what connects us, I reckon.”

  “There is more than that,” she chided. “You are as kind as you are strong, and I daresay you’ve saved me again and again. But simply to be with you has become my obsession. I cannot enter a room without looking first for you. If you are not there, I listen for your voice.”

  His mouth hitched. “’Tis the same for me.”

  “I am torn now,” she murmured, and stroked her hands up his arms before twining her fingers behind his neck. “I long to caress you, and yet I think if you do not soon embrace me I might–”

  Mael didn’t let her finish. His mouth took hers. The moment she gasped he put his tongue between her lips in the most shocking fashion. Then his taste suffused her, and the sensual stroking of his tongue against hers sent a weighty surge of aching sensation down into her belly. Surely, she had never experienced such rampaging hunger as this, and the moan that ended the kiss ignited a frenzied clutch of hands and shifting of hips for them both.

  “I’d take you to my bed,” he said, his voice so low and hard it sounded like a threat. “And come between your thighs, and have you with my cock as I kiss and touch you.”

  “You put me to blush.” Rosealise put her cheek against his so he could feel the color flooding her face. “I wish only that your bed stood closer.”

  Mael picked her up and rushed with her across the chamber, rolling to his back on the bed. He planted her atop him, just as they had been that first time in the maze. Only now he gazed up at her, his bejeweled eyes dark and gleaming.

  “Gods, but to look upon you thus,” he said lowly. “To hold you to me, and ken you’ll be mine. ’Tis every loveliness dreamed.” He touched her face, and then slowly slid his hand down, boldly stroking her breast and her belly before gripping her thigh. “I wish to wake, my beautiful jem, as we are now, and no’ ever sleep again.”

  “Then I must endeavor to keep you awake.” She clasped his hips with her knees, rising to put her throbbing sex against the broad column of his. Now she understood why she had become awash and full of soft heat. Her body wanted him as much as she did. It was open and ready for the thick, heavy shaft that pulsed against her. “Perhaps I should indulge your passion for me.”

  Bending until she could brazenly press her lips to his, Rosealise kissed him. Did she dare to do so as he had her? She attempted it, smiling against his mouth as he groaned into hers.

  The chamber upended as Mael flipped with her, tucking her under his huge frame and surging between her legs. He held the kiss a moment longer, until the whimper of need that spilled from her throat made him reach between their bodies. She moaned with relief as he guided his rampant erection to her, notching the smooth bulb of his cockhead between her folds.

  “Yes, that is what I wish,” Rosealise told him, lifting her hips as he pushed into her softness. “More and more and more of you, yes, please.”

  “So you shall have,” he said, bracing himself over her.

  Mael’s girth stretched her around him as he sank with one long, luxurious stroke into her body. Whatever they had shared in the past had to pale beside this joining, this merging. His penetration made her feel as if she bloomed around him, engulfing and clasping him so tenderly. Kisses were but preparation for this, for her quim taking his steely male length so deeply and perfectly.

  At last their body hair curled as snugly as they fit together, and Rosealise pressed her hand against his chest. His pulse thudded hard and heavy and sure, and she could feel it inside her as well as under her palm.

  “I’ve captured the heart of you, my titan,” she whispered to him, and brought his hand to her left breast. “Now, take mine.”

  All the wonder of Rosealise’s vision became her world as Mael moved over her. Between her legs his shaft retreated and returned, filling her so exquisitely she writhed around him. He made her a tempest into which he drove, his muscles bulging and flexing, until her body became his to pleasure. She moved with him, mindless and greedy for more, her lips caressing his neck, his shoulder, his jaw. The midnight fi
re of his scent filled her, spreading warmth over the dazzling streaks of sensation as he forged in and out.

  Rosealise clutched his arms as something else welled up inside her. It was as huge as him, as inescapable and possessing as his need. She might have cried out for fear of it, but she knew this, just as she knew him. Instead she surrendered to it, tears spilling from her lashes as it overcame her, and her body stretched and shivered one last moment before the bliss smashed through her.

  “Aye, my jem, aye,” Mael said, his voice falling to a rough growl as his cock pumped harder and deeper. “’Tis lovely, you’re lovely, that’s all I wish, to make you come.”

  As the shattering sensations pulsed through Rosealise she felt as if she might dissolve into a flood of pleasure and puddle beneath him. How could one survive such utter possession of the senses? To know it again, she answered herself, and looked up at the fierce satisfaction in his dark eyes. He had conquered her will, and still moved in her, his hard shaft slow and deliberate as he stroked her through the last of the tremors.

  “You have had your way with me again, you wicked man,” Rosealise said, and curled her leg around the back of his. She rolled with him, tightening her quim to keep his weighty cock nestled deep as she straddled him. “Now, to be fair, I should have mine.”

  Placing her hands on his wide shoulders, she lifted herself. Just as the slick length of his shaft would have left her, she impaled herself on him. Using the muscles she had just discovered, she then clenched his hard length. Instinct moved her in a small, leisurely whirl about him.

  Mael flinched as if she’d struck him, and grabbed hold of her hips. A hungry smile bared his teeth. “Again.”

  “So, I can have you in something of the same manner. How gratifying.” She eased her clenching hold and rose again, sliding back down to take every stiff inch inside herself. “I’d make you shake and groan, as you did to me just now. I wish to feel your senses roil and quake as well.” As she spoke, she worked her quim over him, circling slowly as she clasped, until her body became a glove and a caress all at once. “I want to make you come for me, inside me, all over me.”

  Her words seemed to inflame his passions as much as her ministrations. He stared up at her, an unending groan rumbling from his chest. His big hands slid around to grip her bottom, urging her rhythm until she rode him with unrestrained vigor.

  “I’d soon fill you with my seed,” he murmured, squeezing her bouncing buttocks with unabashed lust. “So much awaits ’twill pour from you like a secret rain.”

  The carnal promise sent a shiver of new need through her.

  “That will be welcome.” Rosealise lowered herself so that the hard peak of her breast just grazed his mouth. “I will wear you as my new perfume. Oh.” As he latched onto her and began to suck, she shivered around him, and his body tensed beneath her. “Mael, come to me now.”

  He muttered something against her nipple, and then thrust her down onto his cock just as the first stream erupted from it. Rosealise squeezed his shaft again, feeling her own desires swelling with him. As he pumped long, thick spurts into her core, the potent warmth and wetness triggered another burst inside her. The climax grew softer and longer as it matched the pulsating wildness of his.

  Gently Mael brought her down to cradle her against the billowing swell of his chest, and ran his hand over her curls. “What want you now, lass?”

  Though true hope she’d never again know, with every breath she took Rosealise felt her contentment grow deeper.

  “The remainder of my days with you, Seneschal.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  AS THE SUN sank into the violet twilight horizon, Edane used the sled Domnall had fashioned to bring another mound of tartans from the mound back to the keepe. It pleased him that they could salvage so much that they needed from the hoard, but he made sure to carefully inspect every plaid for stains and rends. He’d bring no reminder of a violent end into their home. Once he had added them to the pile stored in the old pantry, he went into the great hall to join his brothers and the women for the evening meal.

  “We’ve enough wool now to fashion skirts and bodices for you lasses,” he told Jenna, and then spied the map scroll spread out on the table. “Who drew this?”

  “I found it in my room,” Rosealise said, “along with a bespelled entry to a rather Bacchanalian trap.”

  She described what had happened so carefully Edane knew she’d left out many details. Mael also watched her closely, with the kind of deep affection showing in his eyes that came with a more physical bond. It seemed a natural match, although Edane felt sorrow for them both. Unless Dun Chaill’s magic transformed Rosealise as it had Jenna, she would live out a mortal life leaving Mael behind to endure an eternity of loneliness.

  “The map, ’twas another lure,” Broden said flatly before he regarded the seneschal. “You shouldnae have taken the lady through the arch.”

  “I but approached it,” Mael said and returned his angry glower. “The facking thing pulled us both in.” He looked up at Edane. “’Twas the grapevines. They’re enchanted.”

  “By the Gods,” Edane muttered as he peered down at the scroll. Finally he recognized what it showed. “’Tis Dun Chaill, drawn like your architecture schemes, Jenna.”

  “True,” she said, “but I really don’t understand the parti of this place. Castles in this time were built as safeguards to keep an enemy and their siege weapons out. We know Dun Chaill was enlarged around a small fortress, but I’ve found no trace of any defensive measures, or quarters suitable for a garrison. Architecturally speaking, it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “No’ much about the place does,” Domnall agreed. “Still, now that we have the map, mayhap we’ll learn more.”

  “’Tis good, then,” Edane declared but noticed the sober faces of the others. “Mael and the lady escaped the trap. Show some cheer, brothers.”

  “It’s something else.” Rosealise beckoned for him to sit down. “I’ve made a personal discovery that I’ve just now shared with the others. I have consumption, what you call the white plague.” She tried to smile. “Not the happiest of news, I fear.”

  “Soot cleaning may cause a festering,” he countered. He glanced at Mael, who had taken hold of the Englishwoman’s hand. “Surely you breathed in too much while cleaning the chimneys.”

  “’Twillnae hunt, Brother,” the tracker said, his tone grim. “She coughs blood, and I saw enough of those stricken with it among our tribe to be sure.”

  “Fack the Gods,” Broden said and abruptly rose and left the hall.

  Domnall eyed Kiaran, who nodded before he went after him.

  “We’ve some hope at least, my lady,” the chieftain said softly.

  “Jenna told me of the Sluath scout that ended her life, and how she awoke to immortality once inside the castle. Death may not be the end for me, either.”

  Edane eyed the chieftain’s wife. “We’re unsure of the magic that transformed her, and we cannae invoke it.”

  The Englishwoman nodded. “I am content to hope.”

  “In any case, Rosealise needs to keep up her strength,” Jenna said, taking the map and rolling it up. “Let’s have dinner.”

  The meal proved quiet and appetites dismal, thanks to the prevailing somber mood. Edane discreetly studied the Englishwoman, noting the two subtle signs of her affliction: the patches of rosiness on her pale cheeks, and the shallow breaths she took to avoid coughing. When he had been in training the tribe had suffered two outbreaks of the white plague, although the shaman had always insisted on nursing the dying himself.

  The plague hasnae ever caught me, lad. Dinnae tempt the Gods to heap more burden upon yer skinny shoulders.

  At the time it had been a welcome reprieve from his always-onerous training. Now Edane realized how often the shaman had shielded him from such situations, and wondered why. He must have known that when Edane took his place he would have to attend to the sick.

  A chill inched along his spine.
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  Or he reckoned I wouldnae ever become shaman.

  “If you ken of a soothing tonic for Rosealise,” Mael said to him, dragging him from his thoughts, “’twould aid her with the coughing bouts. Domnall and I must seal off Rosealise’s room.”

  “I know now that you find such tasks unpleasant, Edane,” the Englishwoman said quickly. “Perhaps you could simply tell me how to prepare it, if you wish.”

  “’Tis naught for me to do it, my lady.” He pushed away his half-eaten bowl of cold stew, glad to have a reason not to force it down. “I’ll see to it at once.”

  In the kitchens Edane took mint, a jar of honey and a pot of fish oil from the shelves. It angered him to think of the Englishwoman being struck with such a cruel malady, but also instilled a strange guilt in him. For centuries he had lived like a god, unchanging and unwaveringly robust, seemingly forever spared the infirmities of age and sickness. Yet he had done nothing to earn such a tremendous boon.

  He touched his chest, remembering the pain that had forced him to do the unthinkable.

  I wished to die with the bow in my hands. Mayhap the old one was right, in that the Gods would see to it that I never shall.

  When he emerged from the storage room, he found Rosealise waiting alone for him. To look upon her pale, pretty face made his anger shrink down to a tight misery.

  “’Twill taste wretched, this tonic,” he warned her as he carried everything over to the work table. “But ’tis good for the night, to permit you sleep. You must also seek to be outside in the sun each day when you may. The light aids the potion in clearing the lungs, although I cannae tell you why.”

  “I know that nothing will cure me. I believe I saw someone in my time die of this illness, someone I loved, I think.” She joined him at the table. “Edane, what I’m not certain of is how long I may live with consumption. Can you advise me?”