It wasn’t like all his warriors could say the same thing, and that thought pierced his very soul.
The door was opened, so Kaiden walked in, finding his father pouring over correspondence on the table.
“Och, lad. Ye should be abed,” he stated as Kaiden lowered himself in the chair. “Ye look like hell.”
“I feel like it,” Kaiden admitted, stretching out his legs before him. “But I cannae lay in that bed a moment longer.”
His father chuckled as he lowered himself into the chair behind the table. “Spoken like a true warrior, of which ye are, Kaiden.”
Kaiden let out a sigh. “I feel like a failure, Da. I think—I mean, we shouldnae have gone tae battle. We weren’t ready.”
His father pulled the bottle from the table and collected two glasses, pouring whiskey in both. “Here,” he said, pushing it toward Kaiden. “Drink it. It will ease yer pain.”
Kaiden knew that his father wasn’t just talking about the pain in his body. He was talking about the pain in his soul. “Tell me it gets easier,” he stated after taking his drink. “Tell me it goes away.”
“Nay, lad,” his father said softly. “It doesnae. Do ye know how many times I’ve grieved like ye have? Do ye know how many times I have sat in this chair, going over in mah mind what I have done tae mah warriors?”
Kaiden had never witnessed his father in those moments, though they were moments that a laird wouldn’t want anyone else to see. They would be considered weak and could be called into question about his decisions for the clan.
“How do ye know if ye made the right one?”
His father shook his head. “Ye dinnae. Ye hope that every decision ye make is the right one, but there will be times that ye will question even yerself. ’Tis called life, Kaiden.”
Kaiden was still thinking about that discussion when he met with his warriors, ensuring that they were well taken care of and that their injuries were healing. He oversaw the choices of new clansmen that were interested in joining the ranks of warriors, and then, with Ferra at his side, made his way to the first of many burials for those that were lost.
By the end of the day, Kaiden could barely walk. “Ye need the hot spring,” Ferra said softly. “Yer muscles are likely bunched together.”
“And here I am thinking ye just want tae take advantage of me,” he grumbled as she led him down the familiar path to the spring. Once inside, she helped him dress out of his ceremonial clothing, her hands nimble as she removed his sword and boots. When he started to help, she slapped his hands away. “I can do it,” she told him, reaching for the hem of his tunic.
After undoing the sling from his shoulder, she helped him get the tunic off and then reached for his kilt.
“Och, lass,” he said, his breathing heavy. “Wot are ye doing?”
Ferra lowered herself to her knees, shooting him a small smile. “I’m undressing ye, Husband.”
Kaiden forgot about everything—his aching body, his aching soul—when Ferra undid the buckles at his kilt and let it fall to the stone floor, baring his swollen cock. Hissing, he felt her fingers slide over the aching member before her lips encircled his engorged head. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, his good hand sliding into her hair, undoing the braid as he did so. “Ferra...”
She rewarded him with more of her mouth, and he groaned, closing his eyes. He should stop her before he lost complete control, but her mouth was far too warm and willing to do so.
When he was close, he pulled her away carefully, seeing the content smile on her face. “Ye’re a witch, Ferra.”
She shed her dress until she was naked before him. “Maybe, but I dinnae hear ye complaining, Kaiden.”
“Nay,” he croaked, reaching out to cup her breast. “Ye will never hear me complaining.”
She took his hand and led him into the water, the warmth soothing his aching leg almost immediately. Kaiden took a seat on the stone floor, letting his legs stretch out before him, and Ferra straddled him, poising over his swollen member. “I love ye, Kaiden,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his. “I cannae tell ye how much.”
“Just as much as I do love ye,” Kaiden replied, brushing her hair out of her face. “Put me out of mah misery, lass, before I lose it completely.”
They both groaned as she sank on top of him, sheathing him deep inside her. “Everything I am,” he told her, his hands finding her waist, “and everything I will be is because of ye, lass.”
“Oh, Kaiden,” she sobbed as he brought her to climax. “Dinnae stop.”
So he didn’t. Kaiden lifted his hips and drove into her repeatedly until they were both crying out each other’s name, and he let go, pouring into her.
Ferra collapsed on his chest, and he held her there, his heart thundering in his chest. “I cannae move,” she croaked a moment later. “I will die here.”
“If ye cannae move, then I cannae either,” he chuckled, rubbing her back lightly.
