The Condemned Highlander (Highland Intrigue Trilogy 2)

She thought she would be stumped as to what to say, but the words flowed freely and truthfully. “When we first met, I thought you nothing more than a foolish charmer. I was wrong. It is a mask you wear. And when I catch a glimpse of the man behind that mask, I see a man who possesses a kind soul and a generous heart that few men ever possess. I find myself drawn to you, eager to see you, spend time with you, talk with you. And you do one thing that no man has ever done for me… you make me smile and often.”

She more than flattered, she stole his heart completely. It would never beat again without her by his side. He responded instinctively. He kissed her.

Her own words touched her as much as they touched him, and her arms tightened around his neck, needing his kiss more than she realized.

Brogan kept his hands at her waist as he eased down on his back, letting her settle on top of him. The kiss took on an urgency, a need that had been awaiting this moment and finally broke loose. It had been pent up since the incident with his mother, growing ever stronger. The kiss was necessary to his breath, to his soul, to his finally feeling whole again.

Annis could not get enough of the kiss. It fed a hungry thirst she had not realized she’d had. She could not get enough of his lips, his taste, the strength of him beneath her. This is what she had been missing since returning home; his kisses, his touch, being close with him. And she had not realized it until this very moment. There had been an emptiness to her the last two days she had not understood. She had thought she had missed her sisters, Bliss always there taking care of her when she got hurt or Elysia sleeping close against her at night. But it was not that at all. It was Brogan. She had missed the closeness they had come to share, had missed it terribly.

Their mouths parted to take a breath.

“If we do not stop now, we will do more than kiss,” he said, leaving the choice to her.

Annis was torn. She wanted to couple with him desperately, but did she dare? Did she want him out of need or out of love? The choice lingered there a moment and the decision was made for her.

They heard the distinct growl of a wolf, and he was not far from them, and either was the mist that rolled in rapidly around them.

12

Brogan hurried to stand, taking Annis with him, his worry growing as the mist suddenly rushed in to capture them. It had taken only moments for it to grow thick, leaving them barely able to see in front of them.

A growling snarl sounded close by, and Brogan’s hand went to the hilt of his sword only to recall that he had placed his weapon on the ground when they sat to eat.

“Do not let go of my hand while I reach for my sword on the ground,” he ordered.

Annis bent with him as best she could.

He heard her wince and swore unable to find his sword.

“Hurry, it pains me to keep bent like this,” she said.

Another quick search and he still could not find it and he could not go without it. “I need both hands. Keep yourself against me. Do not let our bodies separate.”

The wolf howled this time and Brogan cursed again. He hurried his search. It was not until he stood with his sword in his hand that he realized he could not feel her against him.

“ANNIS!” he cried out.

“BROGAN,” she called back.

Relieved to hear her but frightened beyond belief that he was unable to see her, he called out, “Talk, Annis, and I will follow your voice.”

“Brogan,” she called out again and sounded farther away.

“ANNIS!” he called out frantically, fighting to see through the heavy mist.

“Brogan.”

His name was so faint he could barely hear it and he went to call out to her again when he caught the glow of two beady black eyes as they rushed towards him.

“BROGAN!” Annis shouted until her throat pained her. His voice had faded away, but she had not moved. How had they become separated? Her heart pounded in her chest and fear had moisture dotting her brow.

The witch was here, and she had purposely separated them. This was her chance, possibly her only chance to find out what she needed to do to save Bliss and Brogan.

“Show yourself, witch!” Annis bravely called out.

“Foolish or courageous, I cannot decide which one you are.”

Annis turned at the sound of the pompous voice and stared in complete shock at the woman the parting mist revealed. She stood tall, erect, proud as if she were a noble and expected obedience. A staff as tall as herself, was grasped in her right hand. Various symbols had been intricately carved in it, forming a distinct pattern and a shiny stone set atop the staff and was secured with what appeared to be a vine of some kind. Annis thought of Elysia when she spotted the embroidery on the witch’s dark cloak. Elysia would have admired the beautiful designs and the skill it took to stitch them. Her hair was pure white, wisps of it falling across her brow and down the sides while the rest was plaited in an intricate braid that laid over her shoulder down to her waist. What surprised her the most was that though age lines graced her face, they did not hide her soft beauty.