Taming the Highland Beauty (Guardians of the Isles #7)

Chapter Nine

G ille found herself pulled from sleep by a soothing melody that whispered through her chamber. The sound was soft, yet evocative as the strings of a mandolin were plucked with a gentle touch. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were still too heavy. She had heard the melody Callum played before. But where?

She concentrated on the sound, letting the music move around her, through her as she tried to remember. A snippet of memory came to her. The darker seals in Loch Dunvegan had sung that song. As she and Callum had moved across the rear courtyard of Dunvegan, the sound had become fainter. Perhaps Callum had heard the song as well, which was why he played it now.

The music ended abruptly, and she heard Callum sigh. “Why can I not remember?” he whispered from somewhere near the right side of her bed. Disappointment laced his words.

She wanted to tell him that she did not recall the entire melody either, but what her mind wanted and what her body was capable of in that moment were two different things. So, instead, she relaxed into the sheets beneath her and let her thoughts return to what she and Callum had to do next to help Lottie, Lady Janet, and herself.

She and Callum had gained valuable information when Gille had connected with Lady Janet’s essence. They would have to begin their quest in the forest to find Lottie’s hidden sealskin. And once it was returned to her, perhaps Lottie could assist her and Callum in asking the selkies for help in remembering that song, because Gille could not shake the feeling that the song was somehow important to breaking her curse and helping Callum’s mother move into her afterlife.

When Gille had regained her strength, she and Callum would begin. She tried once more to open her eyes and failed. Instead of fighting, she surrendered to the powerful urge to sleep for a few moments more.

*

Gille woke feeling a sense of peace so vast she thought it was a dream. Yet the warmth that surrounded her and the arm that draped across her chest told her it was not. She smiled and stretched as she opened her eyes, then frowned when Callum’s hand cupped her breast. It was not the spiral of heat that shot through her that caused her alarm, or the masculine body that held her so close. It was the yellow-gold sunlight streaming through the window. Had she slept the night through?

Callum’s soft, light breathing told her he was asleep. She gently lifted Callum’s hand, placing it at his side. Yet when she tried to rise, his hand came around her again, pulling her tightly against him.

“Where are you going?” he said, sleepily.

She tensed as the light coming through the shutter intensified. “I have slept through another day.”

“You needed time to heal.” He opened his eyes and smiled down at her, only increasing the warmth that pooled in her belly. “Is your head still aching?”

“Only a little, but I feel as though my strength has returned.”

Callum’s hand slid down her arm. “Lottie gave you a tonic last evening. I am pleased it worked to ease your pain.”

Gille had no memory of that, but an odd taste lingered on her tongue. “Was that what tasted so bitter?”

He laughed. “Lottie mixed in honey.”

Gille shuddered. “Not nearly enough.” She sobered. “We have lost another day. Only five days left before I—”

“You will not turn into a tree,” Callum said with a fearsome scowl. “Not now, not ever.”

Her breath caught as his gaze dipped from her eyes to her lips. Time seemed to slow as his face descended. His kiss was a storm, violent and unfamiliar. Panic flared in her chest before dissolving into something deeper, something primal. His body pressed into hers, hard and insistent. She wanted to flee, but her hands moved up his chest instead. She liked the feel of him beneath her hand. Close. Intimate. And there was something else, something even more fragile building between them: trust. She realised with a sense of awe that she trusted Callum and received trust in return. He was the first person aside from Aria and Pearl with whom she could simply be herself—the woman and the fairy.

Abruptly, he pulled away. His eyes, wide and filled with a strange turmoil, met hers. “I—I did not mean to do that,” he stammered.

Disorientated, she blinked, her mind reeling. “Neither did I,” she managed, her voice tight. A fierce longing pulled at her, a desire to reclaim the stolen moment. But sanity prevailed. This was no time for weakness. With an effort, she detached her hands and sat up, creating distance between them. “We have a mission.”

He nodded, his gaze avoiding hers as he moved to the edge of the bed. His hands raked through his hair, and a deep breath shuddered through him. “I should have said... I will not let anything happen to you, Gille. We will find Lottie’s pelt and break your curse. Nothing will stop us.”

A warmth spread through her, a flicker of hope ignited by his words. She believed him. For his mother, if not for her. With renewed strength, she swung her legs over the bed and stood. The air crackled with tension as his eyes roamed her, assessing. She met his gaze, and what she saw there made her pause. “We should start our search.”

His scrutiny continued, intense and unwavering. Finally, his eyes met hers. “You change every day, Gille. A different woman, yet I cannot quite place what is different.”

Gille swallowed, the question echoing in her mind. Every day was a transformation, a shedding of the beast Oberon had made her. But who was she beneath the layers? Would she like the woman emerging, or would the curse claim her before she discovered who she was meant to be?

She shoved the terrifying thought aside, focusing on the practical. Her wrinkled dress demanded attention. “Grant me a moment to change,” she told Callum.

He started for the door. “I will gather supplies and ready the horses.”

Gille halted him. “No horses. We should travel on foot.”

Callum frowned, clearly disagreeing. “We will cover more ground faster.”

“The fire might have altered the landscape,” Gille insisted. “We need to see everything. Trust me.”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “Your knowledge of the woods is unmatched. I will meet you below.”

When he stepped from the chamber and shut the door, she shed her dress, the fabric whispering against the floor. Her chemise followed. After rolling down her stockings, she folded the discarded garments neatly and set them over the back of the chair.

Kneeling before a basin, she splashed cool water on her face. The heather-scented soap transformed the mundane task into a soothing ritual. Her hair, freed from its ribbon, tumbled down her back. After a vigorous wash, she wrung it out and shook the excess water free.

The rough linen towel was a luxury after the icy streams of her imprisonment. She savoured the sensation before slipping into a clean chemise. Gwendolyn’s delicate gowns were tempting, but impractical. She chose her old dress instead, a familiar weight settling on her shoulders. She brushed out her hair and tied it back with a ribbon. It would dry in the morning air.

Her return to the forest would not be complete without her moss-covered cloak. She retrieved it from the armoire where it hung and tossed it about her shoulders. Though she was once again dressed in the clothing that had been a part of her curse, she no longer felt like the beast who had once worn them. Everything was different now. She was different now.

A surge of determination replaced her earlier fear. She was no longer a captive of the forest. She was forging a new path, a path to freedom. With Callum by her side, she would find the sealskin and return Lottie to the sea. As an ally amongst the selkies, she might be able to convince them to help Gille break her curse. For only the selkies had the ancient wisdom and magic that might counter Oberon’s curse. Determined to move forward, Gille left her chamber and joined Callum at the bottom of the stairs.

At the sight of her, his features brightened and his eyes warmed, causing her heart to stumble. “You and that cloak no longer seem to blend together as you once did.”

“It feels the same to me,” Gille lied, briefly looking down at her clothing before heading outside.

The morning mist left a chill in the air, but even the mist could not diminish the smoky, acrid scent lingering over the land. “Shall we begin?”

Callum nodded and he hoisted a leather satchel over his shoulder as they walked towards the gates. “I spoke with Alastair and informed him about where we were going. He wanted to send a contingent of men with us, but I refused, telling him this was something you and I had to accomplish on our own. Instead of insisting we be accompanied, he wished us well,” Callum said with a laugh.

“You find that amusing?” Gille asked.

“What I find amusing is how much my older brother has mellowed since he became a father. He used to haunt my every move, my every decision, trying to save me from myself. Yet now, I believe Alastair has learned with his own child that he cannot control everything. He must let others find their own way.”

Gille shrugged. “I think it is nice that he worries about you. I would have given anything for that kind of relationship with my mother and sister.” They passed through the gates and headed north towards the forest.

“Since your return to the castle, I have seen worry on Aria’s face when she looks at you, as well as regret.”

“That may be true,” Gille replied. “I only hope we have the chance to build a relationship in the human realm as sisters—one that we never had in Fairyland.”

A hopeful smile came to Callum’s lips. “We will break this curse, Gille, and you, Aria, and your mother can finally be a family.”

They continued their progress on foot towards the forest in silence until Gille could see a desolate landscape in the distance, a stark contrast to the lush greenery it had once been. The vibrant towering trees that had housed her for a year were now skeletal remains, their charred branches reaching towards the sky like blackened fingers. The forest floor was a carpet of ash, littered with the remnants of fallen trees and scorched vegetation. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke, and the only sounds were the rustling of the wind through the charred trees and the distant calls of birds.

Gille’s heart pounded in her chest, a drumbeat against the eerie silence. She moved purposefully into the skeletal expanse, her eyes searching the ravaged woodlands.

“I am sorry,” Callum said as he followed closely, his hand finding hers.

“I knew the fire would destroy, but I had hoped for some part of the forest to remain untouched,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her throat tight. As they pressed deeper, in her mind’s eye, Gille searched for the familiar contours of trees that had once grown towards the sky in this very location.

The bark of the trees was charred and cracked, and the wood was blackened and brittle. The leaves were shrivelled and brown, and the needles were gone. The forest floor was a patchwork of ash and charred vegetation, with the occasional patch of green where a plant had somehow managed to survive.

The scene was one of destruction, but it was also one of resilience. The forest was a testament to the power of nature, and even in the face of such devastation, life would find a way to prevail.

A sudden cry pierced the air, a sharp pained keening. Gille’s heart lurched. A small fawn, with legs caught in a tangle of roots, whimpered helplessly. Without a word, Gille knelt, her hands hovering over the trapped animal. A soft green glow enveloped the fawn, and with a gentle sigh, it stood, wobbly but alive. Gille sat back on her heels and breathed a relieved sigh. Even though the woodlands had burned, she still retained the power it gave her.

“I did not know you could do that,” Callum said, his voice filled with awe.

“I had wondered if my magic would remain with the trees burned as they are. I suppose the plants and animals that remain have somehow retained the essence of nature’s bounty.” Though she was happy, her chest felt tight. She had hoped that by returning to the forest the curse would reset, and she would have seven days to live if she left her sanctuary again. But nothing inside felt reborn, renewed. She was unchanged, and the curse remained.

Callum continued to smile, unaware of her change in thoughts. “Then there is still hope of us finding Lottie’s sealskin?”

She forced a smile, reminding herself that all was not lost. They still had time to break her curse, and there were little signs of life that the forest had not been obliterated. “There is always hope.”

Whatever momentary enthusiasm she had mustered faltered as a strange sensation pricked the back of her neck. Someone was watching them. She narrowed her gaze and searched the distance, finding nothing. Perhaps she had imagined the sensation.

“Come,” she said, motioning for Callum to follow her. “There is still much territory for us to cover.” Their search continued and was marked by false hopes and growing despair as the sun reached its zenith. They had spent half a day in the woodlands already, and Gille had yet to recognise any sort of beech tree, burnt or otherwise.

As they ventured deeper into the forest, the familiar paths began to twist and turn in an unnatural manner. Untouched trees, once steadfast landmarks, seemed to shift and change, their outlines blurred by the sudden rise of a mist. Hours passed and they had made no progress in their search. Gille’s memory, once a reliable guide, seemed to fail her.

“We are getting nowhere,” she said in frustration as her stomach began to growl. Callum must have heard the sound because he encouraged her to sit on the stump of a tree and eat a piece of bread and a slice of cheese he had brought in his satchel. When they had both eaten and drunk from skin of water, they continued to search. Several more hours went by.

Callum frowned up at the sky. “Are we getting nowhere, or is something else going on? Because the sun, which should have begun its descent, has not changed its position since we ate.”

She tried to focus, to find a familiar marker, but everything was wrong. The forest, once a comforting ally, had become a treacherous foe. And there was only one entity she knew who had the power to change reality like that. She had experienced his machinations many times before in Fairyland.

Panic crept into Gille’s heart. Had the sensation she’d felt earlier been Oberon watching them, tricking them, deluding them into thinking they were making progress while he changed the landscape before them?

“Callum, Oberon is responsible for this. He is manipulating us and our reality.” Gille gritted her teeth against a tide of anger that rose in her. All the frustration and anguish she had buried inside herself at Oberon over the past year erupted in a scream that echoed all around her, resounding in her ears like thunder.

“It’s all right, Gille.” Callum reached out and pulled her close. “We will prevail against him, together.”

Gille turned her face into Callum’s chest. She did not know how long she remained there, wrapped in his arms, her face buried in the soft linen of his shirt, but it seemed like forever. Gradually, her frantic heart rate slowed, and silence surrounded them.

“Gille?”

She looked up into Callum’s comforting gaze and felt an overwhelming sense of relief. “He cannot succeed in his games against us. Not this time.”

Callum framed her face with his hands. “I will be right beside you, Gille. Oberon is no match for the two of us. We already figured out that he was playing a trick on us. Now we must focus on breaking free of Oberon’s illusion.”

Callum was so close. Close enough to kiss. She shifted forward, bringing her lips in contact with his. He kissed her quickly, then pulled back. “Kiss me, Callum, like you did this morning.”

His lips brushed hers hesitantly. “We should stay true to our mission.”

“If we want to complete our mission, then kiss me. If Oberon hates anything, it is a connection of hearts and minds between two people.”

She did not have to convince him further. Callum’s arms closed around her, and a groan escaped him. His lips caressed hers in a dozen kisses that robbed her of breath and sent shivers tingling through her.

She inhaled sharply as she pulled back to stare into his face. His features were taut with strain, but in his eyes, she saw something she had not seen there before. Hope.

She felt it too, a surge of something light and wonderful and pure. In that instant, the burnt forest around them shimmered then faded until darkness replaced what had once been light. “Nay,” Gille gasped. “The entire day has passed with us trapped in Oberon’s illusion.”

Callum held her more tightly. “’Tis all right. We have broken free of his magic. Now we can accomplish what we set out to do.”

Gille shook her head. “It is too dark for me to see things clearly.” Once again that odd sensation of being watched rippled across the back of her neck. Gille tensed. “Callum,” she whispered. “Someone else is here in the woods with us.”

Callum released his grip on her as his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Only a quarter moon illuminated the sky, making it difficult to discern what might be the burnt skeleton of a tree, or something more sinister. Suddenly a shape separated itself from the shadows.