Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5) (7 page)

Torra tensed.

He spoke of the dragon.

“How?” she started, voice strangled as she shook her head and pulled away. “How do you
know
that?”

Nobody knew what she was other than Iosbail, Adlin and the kings. How did this stranger know simply by looking into her eyes? When she tried to flee, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back against him. His muscled arm wrapped around her lower back.

“Shh.” He cupped the back of her neck, trapping her. She had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Dinnae fear me, lass. I willnae hurt ye.” His eyes searched hers, his voice quiet lest others hear. “I’m a wizard. My element is fire. There can be no other reason why I see so clearly what sleeps within you.”

Torra shook her head slightly. Impossible. Her uncle Ferchar was a wizard who controlled fire and he did not see the dragon within. “Nay,” she murmured, upset. “‘Tis impossible. There must be more.”

“Must there be?” 

But they both knew there was more...so very much more.

“‘Tis strange, the sound of drums,” Colin said.

Torra blinked. Ripped from the past, she was startled to see that Colin had already returned from his swim and now rewrapped his plaid.

Surprised, she realized drums were playing in the distance, the rhythmic percussion a potently sensual sound when mixed with the pipes. The tribal beat almost seemed to match the heavy thud of her heart. Leave it to Iosbail to introduce something so in-tune and appropriate to their circumstances. Then again, few reveled in the paganism of their past more than Adlin’s sister so it somehow suited.

Colin crouched and braced his hands on either side of her, concerned eyes searching hers. “So now you’ve had a taste of whiskey. How are you?”

Torra suddenly found it amusing that they kept their brogues lighter so that those from the twenty-first century could better understand them. It had quickly become habit for her but liked that Colin did it as well. It said much about his devotion to her.

“The whiskey is good.” She smiled. “So far it has not overly affected me. At least I dinnae think as much.”

Yet again, the dark night suddenly seemed more vibrant with him near. It almost felt as though the log beneath her vanished and she drifted, hovered almost. The soft air warmed, lightening her limbs.

“‘Tis good to hear,” he said softly.

Torra had barely a second to guess at his intentions before he pushed up her skirts so that he could spread her thighs and kneel between her legs. And though she made to push him back, even she recognized that she put little effort into it. So when he wrapped his arm around her lower back and came flush against her, she had no one to blame but herself.

“Now you have faced one fear might you face another.” Like Iosbail’s earlier, his words were really less a question and more of an order. He cupped the side of her neck, eyes more intense than she’d ever seen them, words whisper soft. “‘Tis time for your first real kiss, lass.”

Colin saw the fear flash in her eyes, but there was no turning back.

He applauded Iosbail for urging Torra to drink the whiskey. Because whether or not his lass realized it, all her fears must be conquered if they had any chance at defeating Keir Hamilton. Not only that but she deserved to break free from all that repressed her, whiskey and its possible side effects apparently being amongst such.

When Torra, frightened, started to shake her head, he stilled her with a gentle stroke of his finger on the back of her neck. “‘Tis just me, lass. If for some reason you cannae contain the dragon remember well that I have met her as I have met you and am not afraid.”

“You
fought
the dragon, Colin.” Her eyes glazed with moisture as fear grew. “And trust me, I didnae throw half what I am capable of at you.”

“Because you knew ‘twas me. Somewhere inside, you
knew
,” he reminded, impassioned. “And that your kin were in that castle with me.” He stroked her cheek. “Now we both know that I saw you as a dragon once before that and you didnae hurt me. Torra, whether in this form or in the bonnie beast that lies within, you dinnae hurt those you love. You must ken that or all that you hope to achieve will be for naught.”

After several blinks, her tongue snaked out and wet her lips. For all the strength he’d exercised since meeting her, that one small action snapped the last of his long kept restraint. Gods help him that he didn’t lose her over this, but he had no choice but to kiss her.

Torra’s lips stiffened against his. Yet it didn’t matter in the least. He pressed his mouth against hers and felt a flood of relief in just that simple contact. Before Torra, he’d had many lasses and all had melted into his embrace. But he never had to try with them, never had to give it much thought.

Now he did.

However, thought soon faded as he simply enjoyed the taste and texture of her mouth against his. There was something startlingly arousing about the sweetness of her ever softening lips. When she stiffened again, he held on tight and continued his measured assault. Her body slowly began to relax. Colin nearly lost control when she angled her head slightly and her lips began to move against his.

With a feather light flick, he ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips. Colin didn’t know what hit him when her body once more tensed but in direct contradiction to her actions, Torra’s lips opened and her tongue met his.

While fire might be his element, he was wholly unprepared for the roaring flames that tore through his blood. His entire body started to shake as he tried to hold back. But Fate showed favor because she came to him at last. Her lips slanted and opened fully beneath his.

An indescribable, heart-pounding hunger blasted through him and he swung his tongue into her mouth, for the first time tasting the perfection so long denied. Eager, wonderfully in sync, her tongue twirled around his then dove into his mouth. Heat burned between their lips. There was no way to know where she began and he ended the exchange was so thorough, so passionate.

When she moaned into his mouth, the vibration nearly made him explode. Grabbing her arse with both hands, he pressed against her core, enflamed all that much more by the singeing heat between her legs. Their tongues became almost violent as they twisted, lapped, fought and retrieved.

Fire flared.

Between them. Around them. Flames curled in the air fast and furious.

But the living, breathing element did not burn, only pushed them against one another harder. Colin kept one hand squeezed tight against her backside and dug the other harshly into her hair as he all but ate her alive. There was no other way to describe it. He wanted to be inside her in all ways possible or the other way around.

He wanted to literally
meld
with her he felt so strongly.

With a powerful thrust, he ground against her. So close to releasing he moaned; his body one step away from locking up in what he knew would be incomparable pleasure. To make matters worse, or better depending, Torra cried out into his mouth, her body bucking against him as tremors ripped through her dainty body.

Bloody hell, she was climaxing.

And he knew damn well that though caught up in pleasure she was beyond terrified. Though it took everything he had, he tore his mouth from hers, wrapped one arm tightly around her and held her head against his chest. A low mewling whimper broke from her chest then a deep throated wail as she dug her nails into his chest, her body rocking against his.

Colin felt the fire around them redirect and knew…

The dragon was trying to come.

“Gods, Colin, I’m scared,” she cried against his chest.

He had to handle this just right or she might forever fear intimacy. While every ounce of his being wanted to keep her close, he pulled back, gripped her cheeks tightly and forced her to look at him. As he knew would be the case, her eyes glowed bright white. Her body was on fire, the temperature far higher than a human before it would soon plummet sharply. The streaks in her hair that mirrored her scale colors when in dragon form were aglow. Her skin was sheening over as if getting ready to strengthen and change.

She was so bloody beautiful is was humbling.

“
Nathair sgiathach,”
he said, “My dragon.” Colin dug deep down inside and embraced a level of calm he only accessed when with his fire. Staring into her eyes, he showed her not fear but strength. “Be what you will. Your beauty is there regardless.” He narrowed his eyes and curled up his lips. “Embrace what you will now. Know that you and
only
you have control. I will
always
stand by your side in any form.”

Torra gripped his arms, her eyes gone in white light. There was no way to know what she saw or felt now. He could only pray that she still heard him. One thing was for sure, even if she shifted into a dragon, he’d stay right here. And if she decided to kill him, which she so easily could, he’d leave this life knowing he’d found the truest of love.

What he’d absolutely not do is flee. He’d not abandon her.

Not ever.

Her skin started to cool rapidly. The dragon was coming. There was nothing he could do at this point but keep looking into her eyes. He still remembered the last time he’d looked at her in such a form. It had been when she flew over the Hamilton castle not that long ago. He’d been absolutely enthralled.

And completely afraid not
of
her but
for
her.

When at the Defiance, they’d had many long conversations about her fear of the dragon. Colin tended to think more like Iosbail though. She would have been better off telling her kin and embracing the beast rather than putting herself through such pain for so long.

It had infuriated him that Torra was horrified by what she was and that she thought the MacLomains would shun her. Or even worse, that the whole of Scotland might turn on them. Yet Colin always tried to dissuade her without being overwhelming. Though he might not know her clansmen well, he’d heard plenty about Adlin MacLomain and even Iosbail. That said so much.

Her kin
would
have accepted her if for no other reason than they loved her.

As to the whole of Scotland, wizards managed just fine for the most part in relative secrecy. So would a dragon shifter. Somehow, between her clan and himself, they would figure out a way.

A strange sound started to rumble in her chest and Torra gripped him tighter. Colin kept his hands on her, helpless to do much else but stay close. His thoughts remained on all she’d shared about the dragon within. When year’s later word traveled to the Hamilton clan that a dragon existed, he was profoundly proud of her.

Yet he was frightened for her as well.

Under Keir’s forced guidance, he had been in the flames fighting the MacLomains when the Hamilton infiltrated their castle via black magic. An act that had in effect forced Torra to shift and embrace the dragon. Then not long after, it was Colin’s tattoo of Torra that lured her in enough so that Keir was able to trap half her soul. And again, he’d had no choice but to fight against her kin.

His reward for such heinous acts?

He got to listen to Keir Hamilton rave in glee about how Torra would soon be his. At long last. The Hamilton’s plan was going according to plan. Colin still remembered lying in his cot that first night seething mad. He nearly threw it all to the wind and sought out Keir so that he might make a final attempt to rip the Hamilton’s still beating heart from his chest.

Grant, thank the gods, had talked him out of it the next day. He reminded Colin that it was best to let all of this unfold as it would. That he had a plan. And until then, they’d do as Keir wanted and rally the MacLeods and Hamiltons against the MacLomains.

“Ohhhh,” Torra hissed through her teeth as she hung her head and dug her nails deeper into his chest.

Colin could care less that she drew blood. Her body temperature was rising and the sound that broke from her mouth was human. Where she had been panting rapidly before, now her chest was starting to rise and fall less so. Though tempted to speak, he waited. She needed to see this through on her own.

Yet he would be a shoulder for her to lean on so shifted closer and wrapped his arms around her. For a very long time Torra didn’t move, just breathed slower and slower. After what seemed an eternity her head eventually lowered to his shoulder and her nails released from his skin, hands falling limply into his lap. Resting his cheek against her hair, he closed his eyes. Again, a long stretch of time passed.

Then, finally, heavy emotion clogged her throat as she whispered, “I did it.”

Yet again incredibly proud of her, he smiled into her hair and murmured, “Aye, you did, lass.”

When she moved, he pulled back, hands on her arms until he knew she was steady. When her eyes finally met his, they were a lovely sage green and so much at peace that heavy emotion weighed down his heart.

Torra bit her lower lip then again said a fraction stronger, “I did it.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “It was much like when I shifted the first time but so entirely different. I looked into the eyes of the dragon, into the eyes of…myself.” She shook her head, clearly astounded. “And I controlled it.”

“Aye.” He wiped away her tear. “You did
verra
well, lass.”

Torra put a hand over her mouth and shook her head, clearly fighting many emotions. So Colin sat on the log and pulled her onto his lap. Though his MacLomain lass might appear weak now, she was at last coming into her own. In very little time, she would become one of the most powerful Scotswomen to exist and when she did, he knew she would live life well and help so many.

Even as her breathing slowed and she fell asleep, he held her. The ocean lapped at the shore and fires slowly dwindled but still Colin cradled her against him. For too long he’d imagined once more holding her in his arms so he stayed that way for what might have been half the night.

Only when it began drizzling did he at last bring her to the cottage closest to the shore. Colin had asked Iosbail earlier that they might have it. He didn’t want his lass in the castle but close to the ocean so that if she shifted, she might spread her wings and fly easily. And, hopefully, without too many curious eyes watching.

Grateful upon entering, he realized it was larger than most in the area with two chambers, one with a decent sized cot. Though only embers remained on the small hearth, it was warm, clean and well stocked.

After he laid Torra down he covered her with fresh blankets. While not tired in the least, he would not have her awaken without him so lay beside her and pulled her back against his front. Colin ground his teeth against an erection that wouldn’t go away. There was little to be done about it. Burying his nose in the sweet scent of her hair, he drifted.

The next thing he knew random raindrops pelted the thatched ceiling and dim daylight flooded the chamber. Torra was sitting up with one arm wrapped around her bent knees. Her free hand held his. The slat by their window was propped open and she stared out, lost in thought. Colin watched her for a time, sensing her pride and peace but also her confusion and determination.

“I love you,” he eventually murmured.

Her eyes swung to his and a soft smile curled her lips. “And I you, Colin MacLeod.”

Unable to help himself, he trailed a lazy finger up her inner arm and smiled to himself when she shivered. “How do you feel?”

“Scared,” she replied instantly and honestly. Her eyes reflected both thankfulness and pride as she looked at him. “But far more confident than I was before…because of you.”

One arm propped behind him, Colin shook his head. “That is where you are wrong. All you feel now is because of
you
. Dinnae think otherwise.” He squeezed her hand. “I couldnae control the dragon. Only you could do that.”

Torra’s eyes bore into his, a whole new wisdom in them. “Nay, that is where
you
are wrong. I wouldnae have ever faced my fears if not for you. And mayhap a wee bit because of Iosbail and her whiskey.”