Chapter 7
Sonya smoothed her hand down the pale blue gown she had donned and reached for the comb. Her hand still ached, so braiding her thick hair was going to be impossible.
She had awoken to find herself alone. Yet, she hadn’t feared Broc had left. She knew he hadn’t. He took his duties too seriously and returning her to the castle was a priority.
A soft knock sounded, startling her. The door opened and Broc stepped inside. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
Sonya turned her face away lest he see her embarrassment.
She had dreamed of nothing but him all night.
His lips on hers, his body pressed against her, his arms holding her tight.
She had woken needy and aching. If he had been in the chamber, she wasn’t sure what she would have done.
All she had known was that she needed him with a hunger that went to her very soul.
"I did,” she answered. ‘‘And you?”
“You know we doona need to sleep every night.”
That got her attention. She ran her fingers along the small table as she walked around it. “So, you stayed awake all night?”
“I kept watch.”
“That’s two nights you’ve not slept. You must sometime.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ll rest when I need it.”
Sonya blew out an exasperated breath and leaned against the wall. “So, what now? Is this where you try and talk me into returning with you?”
“This is where I try to convince you that MacLeod Castle is where you need to be.”
“And if you cannot?”
His lips tilted in a lopsided grin. “Then I will continue to try and persuade you to my way of thinking.”
She wanted to smile at him, to carry on as if everything was as it had been before the battle. But she couldn’t. “What use am I to anyone if I don’t have magic?”
“But you do,” he argued. “I feel it.”
There was such sincerity in his dark, compelling eyes that she believed him. How could she not? Broc would never lie about her magic. “All right. Then what use am I to anyone if I cannot use my magic?”
“You will use your magic again. Maybe once at MacLeod Castle with the other Druids you can discover what has happened.”
Sonya looked at her injured hand. So much had changed in so little time. How could someone be so content in life and in the space of a heartbeat have everything crash around her?
“Did you no’ tell Fallon the trees warned you to stay at MacLeod Castle?” Broc asked.
She nodded, unable to deny it. She didn’t care why Fallon had told Broc. Obviously the eldest MacLeod brother had thought Broc needed to know.
Sonya swallowed and lifted her gaze to Broc. “I don’t know why they wanted me at the castle, only that they said that’s where I need to be.”
“And you’ve always trusted them.”
It was a statement, not a question. “Aye.”
“Why question them now?”
Sonya smiled ruefully. “I’m not. I’m questioning myself.”
He exhaled sharply and pushed off the door to slowly pace the confines of the chamber. “It’s because of what I said to you, is it no’? It’s about you finding me with Anice and learning that I knew her.”
“It’s partly why I ran, aye.” There was no use hiding that information now. Broc already knew anyway “Coupled with the fact I couldn’t heal Reaghan when she was dying. If it wasn’t for the spell she’d put on herself she would be dead now.”
“But she is alive.” He stopped before her, daring her to deny his words.
Sonya had to tilt her head back to continue looking in his fathomless eyes. “A few days ago, I knew who I was. I knew what I was. I knew the power of the magic inside me and all I could do. And then...”
She trailed off, unable to finish as she recalled the raw, heartbreaking agony she had felt when she could no longer call up her magic.
“And then Anice died,” Broc concluded. “I know I hurt you by no’ telling you the truth. I know I should have, but Anice wouldna know if she hadna stumbled upon me all those years ago.”
Sonya had never been envious of her sister until she had seen her in Broc’s arms. Not even knowing her sister was dead could halt the jealousy. It had been the complete suffering in Broc’s voice and in his face which tore apart Sonya’s heart.
“If it had been me instead of my sister who found you, would you have spoken to me as you did Anice?”
He stared at her, the muscle in his jaw jumping. “Nay.”
“I see.”
“You doona.”
“Then explain it.”
His brow creased as his gaze dropped to the floor. “I... cannot.”
Sonya hadn’t thought she could hurt more than already did, but those two simple words brought it all back and more. What had been so special about Anice that she lacked?
She would never know now.
Without a word, Sonya turned and walked out of the room. She needed to get out of the small chamber and away from Broc, away from the torment of wanting someone she couldn’t have. Being that close to him was too much. It wasn’t fair that she should endure such torture.
“Sonya,” Broc said through clenched teeth as he grabbed her elbow.
She was brought to a stop with a firm jerk. Sonya pulled her arm from Broc’s grasp. “You cannot hover around me all the time.”
“I can and I will.” His tone told her he didn’t care what she wanted, he would do as he pleased.
“I’m going for a walk through the village. No harm can come to me from that.”
Sonya didn’t wait for him to answer. She spun around and walked down the corridor and descended the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she paused to look in the empty dining room.
“I’m glad to see ye up and about, milady,” said a female voice.
Sonya shifted to see who spoke. The woman stood drying goblets behind the bar, a smile on her plump, round face. “Thank you,” Sonya said.
“How is the wound on yer hand?”
“It’s healing, Jean,” Broc said as he came to stand behind Sonya.
Jean’s smile grew. “Yer husband was verra worried about ye, lass. He didn’t leave yer side.”
Sonya didn’t hear anything after husband. Had Broc told everyone they were married? More frightening than that, why did a thrill race through Sonya at the prospect of being married to him?
He was a Warrior. Immortal. Dangerous.
Entirely too tempting.
“Jean cleaned your wound,” Broc said, breaking the silence.
Sonya smiled at the woman. “Thank you. I’m feeling much better.”
“Ah, but still a wee bit weary, I think. Ye shouldn’t exert yerself, lass. Rest and allow yer body to mend.”
“I will,” Sonya said, and walked from the inn.
She didn’t pause as she stepped outside. Sonya strolled leisurely through the village. Her body was still weak, but she needed the outdoors.
Four young lads raced down the street and parted to go around her. Sonya laughed at their antics as one gave her hair a soft tug. As she turned to watch them, she spotted Broc just steps behind her, a frown making him look angry and threatening.
Intent on ignoring him, Sonya immersed herself in the village. The sound of children laughing as they played helped to calm the resentment inside her. Women smiled at her, men nodded in greeting. It was as if she belonged there, as if she weren’t a stranger.
Sonya stopped beside a cart full of vegetables. She picked up an apple and absently held it while she surveyed the village. She felt Broc move up beside her.
“This is only the second time I've been to a village,” she said. “This is much larger than where I was raised. Things with the Dru...with my people were different.”
“Magic is the difference,” Broc whispered in her ear. “These people know nothing of Druids or Warrior? This is their life, and it’s a hard one, Sonya.”
She nodded and replaced the apple. “I know. It’s just so different. Almost as if I walked into another world.”
“You have in a way. You’ve been hidden all your life.”
Sonya looked over her shoulder and into Broc’s dark brown eyes, eyes that were mysterious, sultry, and altogether too fascinating. “How would you know how the others live? You’ve been in Deirdre’s mountain for how long?”
He smiled tightly. “Lest you forget, I was able to get away from that cursed mound of rock frequently.”
“Nay, you were referring to before Deirdre took you. Weren’t you?”
His gaze slid away. “Aye.”
For all the time Sonya had spent in the company of Warriors at MacLeod Castle, none of them spoke about their lives before their gods were unbound. At least, they didn’t to her.
She found herself immensely curious about Broc’s life before he became a Warrior. “Will you tell me?”
“What is the point in it?” he asked.
Sonya felt more than heard the hurt. “My days were spent in the forest or swimming in the loch when I wasn’t learning mag ... who I am,” she amended.
“That was—is—a good life.”
“But nothing like yours was.”
Broc sighed and guided her away from the prying ears of the vendor to continue their stroll. “It was nothing like mine. Until Deirdre, I never knew there was another, secret world living alongside mine.”
“Was your world like this village?” she asked. She couldn’t help herself. She had to know. “Did you live in a village much like this one?”
One side of his mouth tilted into a smile as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Nay, but one was nearby. I was there often enough causing trouble. My favorite thing to do was play jests on the merchants.”
“Did you ever get caught?”
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling with laughter. “Oh, aye. Most every time, though I did learn to run away quicker.
Sonya stumbled when she caught sight of Broc’s smile. His hand reached out to steady her, but she knew nothing would ever steady her heart again. Not after seeing something that transformed his face from handsome to heart-stoppingly dazzling.
Broc’s smile had been full of good memories, full of mirth and happiness, and it had changed his already striking face into one that took her breath away. He was an arresting male with his height, his long, fair hair, and his dark eyes, and his brooding only made him more so.
But the smile...the smile showed Sonya another side of Broc, a side she longed to learn more about.
They walked the rest of the village in silence. When they reached the end, Sonya turned to start back toward the inn when Broc pushed her up against a cottage.
His hard body pressed hers against the cottage wall, shielding her. Instinctively she braced her hands against his chest. Beneath her palms she could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart and the taut, hard muscles.
Fire licked beneath her skin, heating her blood and causing her heart to race erratically. It was always so when Broc touched her, and the more she stayed near him, the more her body yearned for his touch.
Sonya inhaled his scent of wind, of warm, sunny skies. She waited for him to caress her, to kiss she had dreamed of him doing since the first moment she had seen him standing outside Quinn’s chamber.
She could feel the heat of his skin through the tunic he wore. How she longed to be able to touch his bare flesh, to trace the line of muscles she felt beneath her hands, muscles she had seen countless times as he stood bare-chested before her in his Warrior form.
Slowly, Sonya raised her gaze from Broc’s chest to his face. He wasn't looking at her as she had expected. His dark eyes weren't filled with passion and desire.
It was the way he stared off into the woods told her something had alerted him to danger. He was there to protect her, to ensure she returned to MacLeod Castle without incident. Regardless of what Broc want, he would see to her safety first.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Wyrran.”