Beyond the Highland Myst(219)
Jillian nearly wailed. "Please!"
But he took his sweet time—and how sweet it was—until she thought she could no longer bear it. Then, abruptly, he buried himself deep within her. "I love you, Jillian McIllioch." His accompanying smile was uninhibited, his white teeth flashing against his dark face.
She laid a finger to his lips. "I know," she assured him.
"But I wanted to say the words." He caught her finger between his lips and kissed it.
"I see," she teased. "You get to say all the love words while I have to say all the bawdy ones."
He made a rumble low in his throat. "I love it when you tell me what you want me to do to you."
"Then do this…" Her low rush of words dissolved into a satisfied cry as he fulfilled her demand.
Hours later, her last conscious thought was that she should not forget to mention to Adrienne that the "general consensus" about Berserkers could not even begin to touch the reality.
* * *
EPILOGUE
"i donna understand it," ronin said, watching the lads. He shook his head. "It's never happened before."
"I doona either, Da. But something is different about me from any of the McIllioch males before. Either that, or there's something different about Jillian. Perhaps it's both of us."
"How do you keep up with them?"
Gavrael laughed, a rich sound. "Between Jillian and me, we manage."
"But with them being, you know, the way they are so young, aren't they constantly getting into mischief?"
"Not to mention impossibly high places. They're forever pulling off incredible feats, and if you ask me, they're just a little too damned smart for anyone's good. It's almost more than any one Berserker could be expected to keep up with. That's why I think it would be useful to have their grandda around too," Gavrael said pointedly.
The flush of pleasure on Ronin's cheeks was unmistakable. "You mean you want me to stay here with you and Jillian?"
"Maldebann is home, Da. I know you felt Jillian and I needed the privacy of newlyweds, but we wish you would come home for good. Both you and Balder; the lads need their great-uncle too. Remember, we McIllioch are the stuff of legends, and how will they come to understand the legends without the finest of our Berserkers to teach them? Quit visiting all those people you've been dropping in on and come home" Gavrael studied him out of the corner of his eyes and knew Ronin would not leave Maldebann again. The thought gave him great satisfaction. His sons should know their grandda. Not merely as an intermittent visitor, but as a steady influence.
In a contented silence that bordered on awe, Gavrael and Ronin watched the three young boys playing on the lawn. When Jillian stepped out into the sunshine, her sons looked up as one, as if they could sense her presence. They stopped playing and ranged in around their mother, vying for attention.
"Now, there's a beautiful sight," Ronin said reverently.
"Aye," Gavrael agreed.
Jillian laughed as she tousled the heads of her three young sons and smiled into three pairs of ice-blue eyes.
* * *
A NORSE LEGEND
(THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS)
Legend tells
that Ragnarok—the final battle of the gods—will
herald the end of the world.
Destruction will rage in the kingdom of the gods.
In the last battle, Odin will be devoured by a wolf.
The earth will be destroyed by fire, and the
universe will sink into the sea.
Legend holds that this final destruction will be
followed by rebirth. The earth will reemerge from
the water, lush and teeming with new life. It is
prophesied the sons of the dead Aesir will return
to Asgard. the home of the gods, and reign again.
In the mountains of Scotland, the Circle Elders say
Odin doesn't believe in taking any chances, that he
schemes to defy fate by breeding his warrior race
of Berserkers into the Scottish bloodlines, deeply
hidden. There they await the twilight of the gods,
at which time he will summon them to fight for him
once more.
Legend tells that there are Berserkers walking
among us, even still…
The Highlander's Touch
Karen Marie Moning
I am that merry wanderer of the night
I jest to Oberon and make him smile"…
—A Midsummer Night's Dream/Shakespeare
* * *
PROLOGUE
highlands of scotland
castle brodie—1308
adam black materialized in the greathall.
Silently, he observed the towering warrior who paced before the fire.
Circenn Brodie, laird and thane of Brodie, exuded the magnetism of a man born not merely to exist in his world, but to conquer it. Power has never been so seductive, Adam thought, except, perhaps, in me.