Outsider (Time of Myths: Shapeshifter Sagas Book 4) Read online

  On occasion, Kristie had spotted other seals in the area. It wasn’t uncommon, but they didn’t typically pay her any heed. The creature dipped its head back under and reemerged closer this time. Her curiosity held her to the spot. Its nostrils opened as it lifted its muzzle into the air. Then they shut, and it dipped below again.

  She lost sight of it until it began to roll and spin through the water, playing. Kristie couldn’t muffle her laughter as the animal splashed about. After a moment, the water stilled and she craned her neck, searching for the seal. It had disappeared.

  With suddenness that surprised her, it popped its head up near the shore. It glided forward until it touched the rocky beach. Still, its focus remained on her face. She was tempted to reach for her dirk, but she thought of the favor Creag had asked of her. To protect any seals that visited her shore. A strange request from a fellow who’d heard too many tales from Jock’s lips.

  The animal lurched from the shallows as it came out of the water. She couldn’t refrain from letting out a startled yelp. The urge to step back or run away gnawed at her instincts, though she held her ground.

  Kristie stared into its wide, steel-gray eyes and recognized something. They were familiar. So familiar, she could swear she’d stared into them before.

  “Creag?” she whispered in disbelief.

  Chapter 14

  It was all he needed, to hear his name upon her lips.

  He called to the sensation that returned him to his human form. Tingling chased throughout his body, but he was oblivious to it. Rònan held himself off the rocks. Water dripped from his hair and face as he stared up at her. Kristie’s mouth gaped open. She blinked back at him.

  He lifted himself up and rose to his still tingly feet. She seemed to find her voice, though just barely. It came out in a rasp. “Jock’s tales are true. Selkies are real as real can be.”

  “Aye,” he croaked back.

  “The fairies truly brought ye to me, then.” Her eyes were unfocused as she glanced out to the loch.

  “I dinnae know about that.” He didn’t know how to tell her, but he knew that he must.

  A faint smile played on her lips as she stepped closer to him. “Magic be a mysterious thing.”

  He had to get through this. He had to tell her everything if he wanted any chance at a life with her. So, he pulled back and touched her brow sadly. “I remember my past and my name—Rònan it be. I remember my brother and how I came to be scuffed up on yer shore.”

  “Ye are making me worry.” She frowned. “Be that a bad thing?”

  “That be for ye to determine,” he answered and took a shaky breath. “When I was out in the rough sea, all those old memories came back to me of my young brother, Niall. He was like me, born of the same selkie da. Our mam passed away a time back, leaving us alone in the world. Niall wanted to take to the seas, so I went with him. My mam had warned me to choose one life—I can see she was right. Having a foot both on land and sea only brings suffering.”

  “I dinnae understand ye.”

  “My brother—” His throat tightened and he choked out, “Is dead. I can remember it like it just happened, and I cannae get the picture from my head.”

  “Shh,” she whispered and pulled him close. “I know what it be like to lose kin and to feel alone. Ye will survive it.”

  He closed his eyes and stood stock-still, collecting a sense of calm. Rònan put his hands on her shoulders and extended his arms so he could look at her. “I cannae understand how it be fair that I kindled love in my heart for the woman whose brother took my only kin from me.”

  Kristie’s eyes widened, and her hand went to her mouth. It was her turn for her voice to get twisted and muffled in her throat. “I-I dinnae understand…”

  “Neither do I,” he answered. “It may have been Domnall who thrust the spear through my brother’s selkie neck, but in the end it was the storm that took its vengeance.”

  Rònan had to get through this. He had to tell her the truth of the matter or he could never live with himself. His throat tightened, and he felt as if he would be sick. Unable to look at her, he stared out to the loch. “I was angry. My brother’s blood coated my skin. I knew I was alone and those men took him from me. I grabbed hold of their boat, spitting curses at them I cannae repeat just as the waves cast it over. Those very waves yanked me under, beating me against the rocks, taking from me all memory of who I was.”

  “Nay, it cannae be true,” she whispered.

  The pain in her voice caught him up short. When he turned his gaze on her, deep creases lined her forehead, and her brown eyes pierced through him.

  “I had to tell ye the truth—though I did not mean to, I may have had a hand in yer brother’s death. Ye can tell me to leave and never come back, and I would understand.”

  She started to back away from him. He could sense all dreams of a future with her in it slip away. But he couldn’t let her go without telling her how he felt. Rònan grabbed hold of her arm so she couldn’t leave. “From the start I found ye to be an infuriating woman, determined to find fault in me. But somewhere along the way, I fell in love with ye. I have found ye to be a caring woman who has sacrificed happiness to look after yer kin. No matter how much pain is in my heart when I think of the tragedy of that night, I still cannae imagine my life without ye. I want to be here to protect ye and look after ye. Kristie, if ye will have me, I will remain by yer side until I draw my last breath.”

  Rònan let go of her arm, and she stumbled back. With a deep pain in his heart, he watched her run down the beach as her bitter sobs were absorbed by the wind.

  It was too much to take in all at once. She couldn’t accept that fate could be this cruel. What had she done to exact this kind of pain?

  Tears streamed down her face as she slipped over the wet rocks without knowing where she was going. She had to get away. She couldn’t take his eyes on her any longer. His beautiful gray eyes that reminded her of the sea.

  Her heart had broken when she’d heard him claim fault over her brother’s death. She should take her dirk to his neck and take vengeance. If only she had enough fire in her belly to do such a thing. But Domnall had unknowingly slaughtered Rònan’s own brother. How could she answer to that?

  Kristie stopped running and stood still for a time. The wind brushed over her limp, defeated form. She wished it would blow her away and carry her off. She didn’t care where. Just as long as she was relieved of the weight of her life. She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to tamp the flow of tears.

  She could just return home and try to pretend he’d never come back. Imagine that he’d gone away like a normal fellow who could not slip on a seal’s coat and swim off. She could go back to thinking that magic touched the lives of other people, not someone like herself.

  How could a selkie truly expect to live as a common man? Stay put in one place? Not when all the tales she’d ever heard were melancholy fables that always resulted in the magical being returning to the sea. How could she curse herself to lose yet another person she cared about from her life? She couldn’t take losing someone she loved so dearly.

  Kristie hoped the fairies could hear her thoughts, for she blamed them for bringing him to her. They were devilish creatures to play such a trick on a grieving woman. She might have been fine without him. She might have found cause to carry on with her chores and her simple life.

  She dropped her hands to her sides and looked over her shoulder. She’d run so far down the shore she couldn’t see him, or maybe he’d returned to the water to swim away for good. Maybe her scorn had sent him to be cursed to a life alone.

  Maybe that was best for both of them.

  How could such a pair live together with so many deaths staining their hearts? So many questions cluttered her mind, she could barely think.

  It was her heart that began to take control. It spoke to her in ways nothing else could. It was her love that answered all.

  Kristie was reminded of his words to her. Words sh
e couldn’t absorb at the time. She recalled him declaring his love for her, how he never wanted to leave her side. He was strong enough to look beyond the fact that Domnall had taken his brother’s life. After spending so many weeks with him, she’d grown to know him. Her heart wanted to believe he hadn’t tried to tip the boat. So why couldn’t she accept that night had been a tragedy and nothing more? None of the men had gone out seeking to end another’s life.

  A new fear gripped her, which sent her back toward the place she’d left him. If she never saw him again, she would never know love again. The kind of love recited in fables that endured through time. She scrambled over the slippery rocks, fearing he had gone.

  Maybe life was messy and painful, but if you could cling to love, the kind of love that survived sadness, guilt, and regret, you could find true happiness. She couldn’t claim she knew what was right, but she wouldn’t chose loneliness. Never again.

  “Rònan!” It sounded strange calling his given name. Her voice caught the wind and was carried to the hills. She ran faster, which nearly sent her reeling.

  The same waterlogged trunk stretched onto the shore—it was the place she’d left him, but he wasn’t there. Fresh tears sprang from her eyes to wet her cheeks as a renewed sense of loss took hold of her heart.

  Kristie ran into the shallows, sending droplets arcing around her. She splashed farther until she stood up to her knees in the loch. The skirts of her tunic dress floated up, and she called again, “Rònan! Dinnae leave!”

  “What are ye squawking about, hen? I be right here.” A deep voice said behind her.

  Kristie spun around.

  Rònan had since dressed and wore his tunic with his plaid belted around his waist. He walked out from the trees that protected the hills. The crooked grin that she had grown to love was perched on his lips while the wind tousled his dark locks. “I told ye I would not leave yer side.”

  She waded out of the water, and he met her on the beach. Rònan cupped her cheeks in his hands, gazing at her lovingly.

  Kristie muttered, “I thought ye had left. Dinnae ever give me a fright like that again.”

  “I know what be good for me,” he said softly.

  She tilted her head back to look him in the eye. “Aye? What is that, then?”

  “The bonniest, most tenacious lass in all the land.” Rònan leaned down to press his lips to hers.

  And Kristie let him.

  Chapter 15

  The enormous stone hall was filled with people of high rank and importance. And although Kristie was situated at the back of the room, she could still see Lord John of Ile with his family above everyone, enjoying their drinks and conversation before the hearth.

  Across from her, Eileanor appeared nervous, though that didn’t stop her from talking incessantly to the people around her. “Have ye ever seen such finery? All fitting for a lord, I say.”

  Kristie nodded and smiled before hungrily taking a bite of meat. She could not wait to eat the bread and cheese also laid out on her plate. Such rich food was not to be wasted when one was invited to the lord’s hall for feasting.

  Voices echoed through the firelit room. The high ceiling held in the warmth generated from so many bodies despite the cold weather outside. Kristie had never been to such a lavish place before, but chose not to announce it to everyone near like Eileanor had. She simply stared wide-eyed at the people, their fine clothing and the surroundings.

  A hand rested at the low of her back and gave her a squeeze. She turned to her husband, who leaned in to whisper, “Ye have barely said a word since we arrived. Are ye all right?”

  Kristie placed a kiss on his cheek and said, “Dinnae worry about me. It be such a different sort of place here. I wonder how he has been getting on over the last year.”

  Rònan grinned and looked around him. “Oh, I think he will be just fine.”

  She nodded again and felt a rush of nausea. Kristie set her bread back down on her plate and took a sip of wine, hoping it would pass. With her hands folded in her lap, she breathed slowly.

  “Ye look more distressed than Eileanor. Have another glass of wine.” Rònan frowned her way and peered into her half-empty cup.

  Eileanor, hearing her name, leaned toward them and said in a loud and very audible whisper, “I am not one for drink, but I must say, this wine is just the thing to help relax the nerves.”

  “My nerves be fine,” Kristie assured them, although she still wasn’t tempted to continue eating her meal.

  “Will ye be eating yer cheese?” Eileanor asked, eyeing her plate.

  Kristie sighed. As disappointing as it was, she didn’t think she would be able to keep it down. “Nay, I dinnae think so. Ye may have it.”

  Eileanor reached across the table with a smile. “Many thanks.”

  While she sat quietly with the loud voices and calls swirling around her, she felt it. Kristie went rigid and adjusted herself on the bench. Maybe she’d been bumped, or maybe it had been her imagination. It had been months since she last bled, though that was not so strange.

  When it happened again, she stared at Rònan. It had been years since she’d first experienced the same sensation. At that time she hadn’t known what it was, but she was older and more experienced now.

  Fear touched her heart. Bringing new life into the world was a dangerous proposition for both mother and child. She did not wish to go through more tragedy, even though her luck recently changed for the better.

  She gazed at Rònan. His dark hair fell around his handsome face. She still considered him the most handsome fellow she’d ever laid eyes on. He turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “Ye are unnerving me, hen. What be the matter?”

  Once more she felt it, and her fear dissolved. As if a butterfly were trapped in her belly and its wings were brushing against its cage, a unique and very real sensation tickled her womb. Even though there were ever-present threats against life, she couldn’t help but fan the flame of excitement that grew in her heart.Kristie reached for Rònan’s hand and placed it on her stomach. She leaned in so her mouth was near his ear and said, “I believe ye will be a da soon enough.”

  He turned to her, his gray eyes startled, then a grin as wide as she’d ever seen spread across his face. He pulled her to him in a tight embrace and started laughing. “Ye are not teasing me? Is it truly so?”

  His reaction filled her soul with glee, and she began to giggle in response. “I felt the bairn just now—ye know me better than that. I am not one to tease.”

  Rònan raised his eyebrow and she conceded. “Oh, fine. Be it a crime to find sport in vexing one’s husband?”

  He pressed his lips to hers, and she felt her chest squeeze like it was the first time they’d touched. His whispers in her ear brought her goose bumps. “I love ye.”

  “This be nay the place for such things,” Eileanor scolded them from across the table. “Ye carry on like two youngsters.”

  Rònan stood up and grasped his cup of wine and shouted, “I am to be a da!”

  Cheers rose from around their part of the room. Kristie’s cheeks flushed with heat from being drawn to the center of attention, and she covered her face with her hands.

  “Oh, be that him?” Eileanor interrupted the celebration to point toward the other end of the hall. “Shush up, they be trying to speak. Shush now, or I will come ’round and make ye.”

  Eileanor raised her eyebrows and hand at the people in earshot, who did their best at quieting. It was a good thing too, for she was as serious as a sow at feeding time. The roomful of people stilled for the gray-haired man who was calling for attention.

  He held his hand up and spoke clearly. “Ye have heard poetry from my own lips, and ye have graced me with applause, which I thank ye for. But this eve I would like to introduce a young bard I have bestowed my knowledge upon. I daresay he does better than I. So, if ye would lend him yer ears and yer kind cheers, he be eager to entertain ye.”

  Eileanor began clapping and cheering, drowning out any ot
her noise in the stuffy room. The woman wiped tears from her eyes when she was too overcome to cheer any more. The young fellow who stepped to the center of everyone’s attention was more of a man than a lad. His fine tunic fit him well, and his hair was combed and trimmed below his ears. The expression on his face seemed to reveal that he knew something the audience didn’t, which only drew them in more.

  Kristie was struck with how much Jock had matured over the last year. The lad scanned the hall and winked at his aunt, who muttered to the man sitting next to her, “That be my nephew. Best listen up, now.”

  Noises and conversations settled, and Jock only began to speak once there was nothing to be heard but the faint wind whistling on the other side of the thick stone walls. His voice was deeper than the last time she’d heard him and it demanded everyone’s attention. “Ye have come from near and far. Places where the sun has touched our beautiful mountains, glades, forests and coasts. This bonnie land we call home.”

  A few voices rose in agreement, but he waited for them to quiet before he continued, “Ye have heard yer share of tales, no doubt. Even from the lord’s bard, a fellow of depthless wisdom and knowledge. Through my time spent with him, I have learned that more often than not a good yarn begins or ends with either boundless love or devastating loss. These tales are our history, reminding us of our clans, our kin and sometimes even magic.”

  The audience snickered and tittered with excitement. Jock grinned across the hall to the darker outskirts where Rònan sat beside Kristie.

  Jock lifted his psaltery and strummed a few chords. “What I am about to impart to ye involves all of the above…”

  The End

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