Clodhead, he cursed himself.Disappointed, are you?
No, he wasn’t. He’d wanted rid of her, and he’d gotten his wish. Bree wasn’t as dogged as he’d thought.
Jaw clenched, Cailean dug into the salt pouch he carried at his waist and sprinkled a circle around the base of the trunk. Through the veil of rain, lights flickered in the trees to his right, and he stilled. It was hard not to stare at the beguiling golden flames that glowed warmly. However, he knew how to deal with corpse candles.
Cailean closed his eyes, his fingers flexing as he called forth his earth magic. His skin prickled, his tattoos glowing faintly as he built a mental ward between himself and the call of the beckoning flames. Years earlier, when he’d been an initiate druid upon the Isle of Arryn, a young woman who’d been set to take the bard’s path had followed the lights one eve. She’d walked into a peat bog and was never seen again.
Ever since, he’d never underestimated the lure of corpse candles. Beautiful yet deadly—like most things that came from Sheehallion.
Like his wife.
Cailean’s mouth twisted.
He needed to stop thinking about her.
I want us to be together again.
Her voice whispered to him then, husky and sensual, and his chest constricted, his breathing growing shallow. Even now, those words had a primal effect on him, but he’d managed to keep his reaction hidden. Aye, his wife was dangerous. To his sanity.
Nonetheless, this was a fight he’d win, even if it killed him.
Cailean’s skin prickled then, and he emerged from his brooding, his gaze sweeping the dark glade where he rested.
Someonewasout there, after all.
He stiffened, his pulse quickening.
A figure emerged from the trees to the south of the clearing then, and as it moved toward him, he made out a tall and lissome form.
Cailean’s lips thinned. Curse her, he wasn’t in the mood for this.
But as the figure approached—and a sudden shaft of moonlight, which pierced through the heavy clouds above, illuminated her—he realized it wasn’t his wife.
It was a woman though, beautiful with pale skin and long wavy hair. She wore a flowing tunic and cloak, frosted by silvery light. Seeing him watching her, she favored him with a slow, sensual smile.
Lust, sudden and swift, ignited in the pit of Cailean’s belly, heat sweeping over him. His reaction to this strange woman caught him off guard. He wasn’t the sort of man to be led by his prick—or he hadn’t been before Bree crashed into his life—and his body’s response unsettled him.
“Lonely?” she greeted him in a low and honeyed voice that made his mouth go dry. “I can keep you company.”
Cailean’s breathing grew shallow, his groin hardening painfully.
Gods, hewaslonely. His stomach ached from it. He longed to sink into softness and heat, to wrap himself around a lover.
However, underneath the haze of lust, something warned him. He didn’t know this woman, and yet with each gliding step she took toward him, he could feel his self-restraint unraveling.
Heart leaping into a gallop, he drew one of the knives strapped across his front and thrust it before him.
The stranger’s step faltered, the smile fixing upon her lovely face. “There’s no need for that, lover,” she murmured, her eyes dark, limpid pools. The chill of her breath feathered over him. “I only wish to keep you company this night.”
“Iron circle me,” Cailean rasped. “Keep light near and darkness afar. Iron circle me. Keep peace within and evil out.” It was a protection charm—one his mother had taught him as a child, lest the botach crawl out of the smoke vent and try to steal him away. He hadn’t spoken it in many years, yet the words had stayed with him, long after the memory of his mother’s face had faded.
The woman halted, tension rippling through her slender body.
And then her smile slid into a snarl, two sharp canine teeth glinting in the pale moonlight. The woman hissed, her hands clawing at him. Her fingernails were long and sharp.
But she wouldn’t come any further though. Salt wasn’t enough against some of the faery creatures that stalked the Albian night—but ironanda protection charm were another matter.
The woman whirled then, the cloak and long tunic she wore billowing around her—and Cailean caught sight of the cloven hooves protruding from the hemline.