Yours for Eternity Read online

  He could hear the rapid beat of her heart, the breathlessness that made her pant softly. Lachann released her mouth and touched his lips to her throat. Adeline tilted her head back in a gesture of surrender that had him desperate to push her down, to spread her lithe body beneath him. It was not until he felt the sharp ache in his teeth, realized he was but one heartbeat away from marking her, from tasting her hot blood, that he came to his senses.

  Adeline found herself released and sitting by herself so quickly she suffered a moment of dizziness. She looked up at Lachann, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest glaring at the waning fire. There were no soft words, no hint that he had even kissed her with such heat and skill that she would have given him anything he asked for. A chill went through Adeline, pushing away the last of the heat he had stirred within.

  “Lachann?” Adeline was not sure what to say or how to ask what had just happened without sounding like she was begging for more. Her pride would not allow that.

  “That was a mistake,” said Lachann without looking at her.

  Those four coldly spoken words hurt so much she nearly gasped from the pain. Adeline stood up and brushed off her skirts. She stiffened her legs when she swayed slightly, not wanting him to see any sign of her pain or weakness. What she had believed a wondrous thing, he saw as no more than taking a kiss from an easily available woman. Obviously he had suddenly recalled his role as her protector, or Osgar, and doused the fire she had felt in him. It could not have been a very hot fire, she thought bitterly, or it would not have died so quickly.

  “I see,” she murmured. “As you wish. I will get some sleep now.”

  “Do so. I will wake you and Osgar when it is safe for us to journey farther.”

  Adeline smothered the urge to kick him hard in his handsome backside and walked over to where Osgar slept, innocent of the turmoil around him. She settled herself beside the boy with her back toward Lachann and pulled the blanket over them both. The way Osgar immediately snuggled up against her did little to ease the pain in her heart and the shame she was determined to banish. She curled her arm around his little body, rested her cheek against his soft hair, and closed her eyes.

  Lachann stared blindly at the fire until he heard Adeline’s breathing become slow and even. Only then did he chance a look at her. He smiled crookedly when he saw that she kept her back to him.

  He had insulted her, even hurt her. He had heard it in her voice. Lachann decided that was for the best, as it would ensure that she stayed away from him. Only then could he be sure that he would not give in to the insane urge to mark her. MacNachtons marked only their mates and he was not going to bind himself to an Outsider.

  Chapter Five

  Adeline wanted to pace. The effort it took to stand still made her muscles ache. She knew they needed supplies but she did not trust even this tidy village by a loch. Villagers quickly recognized a stranger in their midst and they all distrusted strangers, watched them closely. That was wise but it could also be a threat to any strangers passing through. Lachann had a lot to hide. It was dangerous for him to go anywhere that he would be watched closely. He had shrugged off her concerns, however, with an arrogance that had made her ache to hit him over the head with something heavy.

  Guilt nearly choked her. It was her fault they needed supplies. She had not planned well for her journey, the food she had brought quickly disappearing along with what Lachann had carried with him. The excuse that she had never made a journey before was not enough to pardon her bad planning. Adeline did not know why they could not just eat rabbit or fish until they reached Cambrun, either.

  She sighed, staring at the village even though the increasing darkness made it difficult for her to see much more than faint lights in a few windows. Lachann had so easily ignored her concerns that she suspected he had done this kind of thing many times before. Raiding a village in the night, however, felt too much like thievery to her, and thieves were swiftly hanged.

  Just the thought of Lachann in danger caused her heart to pound so hard it was painful and her belly to cramp with fear. Adeline did not understand her feelings for the man. She had known him for only four days and he had not been particularly friendly. Lachann made his mistrust of Outsiders all too clear and clung to it tenaciously, keeping a polite distance from them.

  Except for that kiss, she thought and touched her mouth. She could still feel the warmth of his lips, the searing heat of his kiss, even two days later. Lachann had coldly declared that the kiss was a mistake and made it very clear that he had no intention of giving her another. Adeline badly wanted another, however, weak fool that she was. It puzzled her, for she had never been attracted to a man in all her two and twenty years. She did not trust men and yet she trusted Lachann with Osgar’s life, and her own. But all Lachann had to do was smile at her, something he had done little of since that kiss, and all the strength went out of her legs. Her wits went begging as well.

  “Ye had best come back safe and hale, Lachann MacNachton,” she muttered.

  “He will,” said Osgar from where he sat by her feet piling up little rocks. “He is a big, strong mon.”

  Adeline looked at Osgar. “Big, strong men can still be hurt, my bonnie lad. But, aye, mayhap I worry too much.”

  “Aye, ye do.” Osgar scowled. “I dinnae like villages. Bad people live there and always want to do bad things.”

  “I am certain there are some good people there, too, Osgar.” Adeline sighed when Osgar looked at her as if she were completely lacking in wits. “I ken we havenae met any, sad to say, but I am certain there are some.” I just pray Lachann meets only good people if he has to meet any at all.

  The sound of rustling leaves drew Adeline’s attention away from her concern for Lachann. She frowned, for there was no wind. It was also too much noise to be made by some small forest creature. She turned to look behind her and tensed. The Hunters had found them.

  Three men rushed forward as she grabbed Osgar up off the ground. Adeline tried to run to the ponies but the men moved faster than she could. Cursing them, she struggled to hold fast to Osgar when one of the men tried to pull the child from her arms. She kicked the man, aiming for his groin but only catching him high on his thigh. The blow staggered him enough that for one brief heady moment, he loosened his hold on Osgar. Just as she tried again to move toward the ponies something very hard slammed into the side of her head.

  Adeline stumbled and fell to her knees, the pain in her head blinding her for a moment. She cried out when Osgar was torn from her arms. The three men ran even as she tried to get to her feet, determined to go after them. Lachann would come, she told herself as she swayed on her feet, her vision clearing but the pain making her dizzy and nauseous. All she had to do was try to slow the escape of the men who had stolen Osgar so that Lachann could reach the men in time to save the child. She staggered forward a step and prayed she could regain her wits and strength in time to accomplish that.

  Lachann hefted his sack of supplies more firmly onto his shoulder and almost grinned. He knew Adeline thought he had crept into the village to steal what they needed and he had let her think it. When they next halted their journey he would tell her the truth, that he had paid for everything. Old Beaton was a man the MacNachtons often dealt with on their travels. The man never asked why they came buying goods at such odd hours, nor did he talk about them. It appeared that his son was more than ready to continue that tradition, which would please the laird of Cambrun.

  His good humor faded as he made his stealthy way out of the village. Adeline was tying him up in knots. He had never wanted a woman as fiercely and constantly as he wanted her. MacNachton men were taught to control the passions that could ride them as hard as the need for blood, but every time he looked into Adeline’s wide green eyes he grew hard with need. The warmth in her gaze told him that she returned his need and that made it almost impossible to fight the urge to take her, to make her his woman. The urge to mark her as his own was so strong it made his
teeth ache, and that was what worried him the most.

  “Fool,” he muttered. “Ye ask her to trust ye but ‘tis clear that ye dinnae want to trust her in return. And just what has the poor lass done to make ye so wary, hmm? Taken to her heart one of the Lost Ones, a Blooded Son who takes a wee sip of her now and then? Saved the wee laddie’s life and put her own in constant danger? Left her own home to take the lad to a place many Outsiders say is naught more than a room in hell filled with demons? Ah, aye, such a treacherous lass she is.”

  He needed to stop blaming Adeline for the sins of others like Anne. Lachann knew he also had to accept the fact that she was fated to be his mate. He knew all the signs, had heard all the tales. Every MacNachton was told the ways to recognize his mate. His fierce need to mark her after only a kiss was hard proof that Adeline Dunbar was his. It was not going to be easy to explain it all to her when he finally gave in to the need gnawing at his innards. And it was definitely when, not if.

  The sound of Adeline cursing yanked him from his thoughts. Lachann fought the urge to forgo all stealth and caution and rush to her side. She was in trouble, and charging blindly into the midst of it would not help her. He moved with more speed but held fast to the silence needed to surprise an enemy. The sound of Osgar crying nearly broke his control.

  By the time Lachann reached the place where he had left Adeline and Osgar he was eager for a fight, bloodlust pounding in his veins. Seeing Adeline swaying on her feet as she staggered in an attempt to go deeper into the wood only increased that eagerness. He put down the sack of supplies and grabbed her when she started to crumple to her knees. Osgar’s crying faded in his ears as fear for Adeline consumed him. He cursed viciously when she faced him and he saw the blood running from a wound on the side of her head.

  “Ye are injured,” he said, the need to hunt down the ones who hurt her and his fear making his voice a harsh growl as the beast reared up within him.

  “’Tis but a scratch,” she said as she steadied herself. “Head wounds always bleed freely.”

  “Where is Osgar?”

  “They took him. Three men. That way.” Adeline weakly pushed him toward the thicker section of the wood.

  His fear for her receding when she sensibly answered his questions, Lachann could once again hear the men running through the trees and Osgar crying. He abruptly kissed Adeline and then started to hunt down the men who had stolen his child and hurt his woman. For the space of a heartbeat Lachann was startled by that thought. His child. His woman.

  Then he realized that it was the truth, the truth he had been foolishly fighting since the moment he had seen them, seen her. Osgar was his child and Adeline was his woman. It was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders to finally accept that. Now he would see that the men who had hurt Adeline and stolen Osgar never left the forest alive.

  The moment the men caught sight of him they separated, each running in a different direction, and Lachann cursed, knowing he would not be able to fulfill his vow. The frustration that surged through him nearly made him howl. He fought down the demands of his beast and set out after the man who held Osgar. Just as he came within reach of his prey the man turned and threw Osgar at him. Lachann easily caught the boy and watched the man run as if all the demons in hell were barking at his heels. The fool would be right if Lachann dared to put down the child clinging to him and go after the man, but he knew he could not do that.

  “Did they hurt ye, Osgar?” he asked the shaking, sniffling child as he rubbed the boy’s small back.

  “Nay, but one of them hit Maman and she fell down,” replied Osgar, rubbing his hands over his tear-stained face. “We got to go help her.”

  “I ken it.” He sighed and muttered, “But I truly wished to kill those fools.”

  Osgar patted his cheek with his small, damp hand. “Ye can do that after we help my mither.”

  Lachann bit back a laugh. “I think we had best get her somewhere safe first.”

  “Aye. Men shouldnae hit lassies.”

  “Nay,” agreed Lachann as he hurried back to where he had left Adeline. “Men shouldnae try to hurt wee lads, either, but I fear nay all men learn those rules.”

  The sight of Adeline sprawled on the ground made Lachann’s heart leap up into his throat. He put Osgar down and hurried to her side. The sound of her steady heartbeat made him nearly weak-kneed with relief. When he knelt by her side and looked at the gash on the side of her head some of that relief faded, however. Even small head wounds might bleed freely but, upon a closer examination, this one looked like a great deal more than a scratch.

  “Did ye see what the mon hit her with, Osgar?” he asked the child.

  “A big rock,” replied Osgar as he sat down on Adeline’s other side and patted her hand.

  Lachann cursed softly.

  “Is it bad?”

  “I ken little about wounds, but it doesnae look good to me,” admitted Lachann.

  “We can give her some blood. That always makes my hurts go away.”

  “She isnae one of us, Osgar.”

  “So it willnae help her?”

  “It will, I think, but she may nay like it.”

  “I dinnae like some of the things she gives me when I hurt or cough, but she stills make me take them. I can give her some of my blood.”

  “Nay, if I think she needs it, I will give her some of mine. Now, let us bathe the wound and put a bandage on it. Do ye think ye can get me a clean rag and a wee bit of water?”

  Osgar nodded as he scrambled to his feet. “I ken where she has her mending-people bag.” He ran toward the ponies with a speed and grace that firmly held Lachann’s attention for a moment. “I think I begin to ken why his father made him a Blooded Son,” he murmured, recognizing that the ritual marking had given the boy a lot of survival skills most young children did not have.

  The moment Osgar returned with the bag and some water, Lachann tended to Adeline’s wound. When she did not rouse or even moan as he bathed and bandaged her injury, he grew worried. One thing he did know about head wounds was that they could do a lot of damage that one could not see. The whole side of her face was already bruising, the colors livid, and that also troubled him.

  “Can ye ride the pony without help, Osgar?” he asked the boy.

  “Aye, but I needs to go slow,” Osgar replied.

  “We dinnae have far to go, lad, and if ye ride close to me I can lend a hand if ye have trouble.” Lachann picked Adeline up in his arms and then gently set her back down again so that he could settle Osgar on the pony and secure the bag of new supplies. “Nay, I think I will lash your reins to my horse so that all ye have to do is hold on.”

  “Maman did that once. Have ye mended her?”

  “We will see.” Lachann wanted to see Adeline awake and talking sensibly before he offered the child any assurances.

  By the time they reached the cave where they would shelter for the day, Lachann had no assurances to give the boy anyway. He did not like the way Adeline’s breathing had grown unsteady, or the slower pace of her heart. With every yard they traveled she had grown weaker. Something was wrong. The blow to her head had done more than simply knock her senseless and open a gash in her scalp.

  Lachann had Osgar spread some blankets on the floor and gently set Adeline down on them. He quickly built a fire and settled the animals. By the time he returned to her side, he knew he was going to have to do something more than bathe her wound and hope for the best.

  “She is verra sick,” said Osgar in a quiet voice as Lachann handed him some cold chicken, cheese, and bread.

  “Aye, laddie, she is,” Lachann replied. “Sometimes when a person gets hit in the head it can do things inside them that just keep on making them sicker and sicker.” He helped himself to some food and a hearty drink of cider. “As soon as I have filled my belly, I will do as must be done if she hasnae gotten any better.”

  “She willnae get angry.”

  “Ye cannae be sure of that, can ye? Ye havenae
given her any of your blood to heal her, have ye?”

  “Nay. She has ne’er had anything save a wee scratch or bruise.”

  Seeing how the child’s bottom lip trembled, Lachann patted Osgar on the shoulder. “Dinnae look so afraid, lad. We ken how to help her and we will do it, will she, nill she. I think we are strong enough to endure her being angry, dinnae ye?”

  “Och, aye. She just yells a wee bit, nay more.”

  Lachann doubted Adeline yelled at the little boy very much at all, although he held little hope that she would restrain herself from yelling at him. He was going to make her take some of his blood even if she did sound and look a little improved by the time he had finished eating. The fact that she had gotten worse at all was enough to convince him to do it, and chance her anger, even her disgust.

  When he returned to her side, Lachann was almost glad to see that she had not improved. It gave him a good reason for what he was about to do, one she could not argue with. He suddenly smiled, knowing that Adeline could argue about anything.

  Gently biting his wrist, he held it against her mouth. If he could not get her to take any of his blood this way, he would mix some in cider and force it down her throat. Lachann would rather not do that but, as he waited for her to react to the moisture on her mouth, he knew he would. Adeline would survive. She would recover from this wound hale and as sharp-tongued as ever, he vowed to himself.

  After a moment so long it felt like an hour, her mouth moved against his wrist. Lachann firmly grasped her chin with his free hand and tugged on it, forcing her mouth open enough for the blood to drip in. She made a face much like a child forced to swallow bitter medicine and he relaxed a little. Adeline had to be aware in some part of her mind if she could react like that.

  The feel of her mouth against his wrist, the stroke of her tongue as she lapped at what her mind thought was much-needed moisture, made his innards tighten with need. He knew sharing his blood could be a sensual experience, as he had had a few lovers amongst the MacNachtons, but he would never have thought that giving his blood to an insensible woman could be so. It was. Too much so. He was almost sweating from the heat rushing through his body. Lachann suspected that if Adeline suddenly woke up and smiled at him, he would be on her like a starving wolf.