Page 125 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

"We can take you out in a galley," MacLaren said, his words forceful. "That would be far safer."

"I'm well, as I said."

"What if you should grow exhausted before you return? I'm charged with keeping you safe, chief. I cannot do that if you'll nay allow me."

"If I'm nay back in three hours, send out some guards in a galley."

"I'll do that." MacLaren bowed and unlocked the smaller gate. "Please have a care."

"I thank you for your concern." Brodie strode through and toward the cliff. Stopping at the edge to observe the faint outlines of the isles in the distance through the mist, he inhaled deeply of the salt air. He had missed this, but... at the same time, he was alone. Isolated.

Shoving the feeling away, he descended the craggy cliff steps with nimble footwork. The men in the guardhouse emerged.

He waved them back. "As you were. I am well." He entered the small cave to undress. The memory of what he and Elsea had indulged in here imploded in his mind, sparking an echo of arousal in his body. He would never see this cave the same way again.

He threw his wadded plaid, shirt, boots, and sporran onto the rocky outcrop. Sealskin in hand, he strode outside into the cool surf and put it on.

As his body shifted into the seal form, the eerie sensation of being watched flooded him. Well, aye, his clansmen on shore were looking out the windows of the guardhouse, but the clifftop was empty.

The exuberance of freedom overcame him. Saints! He had missed this. He glided through the refreshing water, his hind flippers propelling him toward the island that had been his second home for a year and a half. Within a few minutes, he arrived on shore and proceeded across the wet sand.

He removed the sealskin and shifted to human. Squinting against the wind-whipped sand that stung his skin, he strode toward the cave.

Pausing just inside the quiet darkness, he dropped his sealskin to the sand. When he'd first found this place, it had been a protective haven. A place to escape the harsh wind and the chaotic human world. A place of solitude to shield his defeated heart.

It had been especially welcome in winter. Here, surrounded by water, he had indulged his irresistible craving for the sea, while being in a place he could build a fire and stay warm in human form.

Because of the witch, this place was bittersweet now. He no longer belonged here.

Elsea had said when she'd been in this cave, Wilona had used her powers to yank the knife from her hand. He glanced around the sandy floor of the cave, cluttered with shells and stones. Dawn light glinted off metal like a small spark. He strode toward it and bent to pick it up.

Aye, a wee sgian dubh. He stroked his thumb over the carved oak grip, far too small for his hand, but perfect for a woman's. How many times had Elsea held this and practiced with it?

At the cave's mouth, he tilted it to see the carvings on the grip. Elsea was much like the thistle flower etched into the wood—beautiful, beloved, but her prickles pierced, eliciting pain and drawing blood. But she was also gentle and caring. He didn't doubt her love anymore, for she exuded it.

When he'd been in seal form in his bedchamber, his rage had been stripped away. He could not read human minds, but he'd basked in the pureness of her heart as she'd stroked his head. She had not feared him nor called him evil.

The incredible power of their lovemaking burst into his mind.

He'd told her he forgave her. Had he told the truth? He closed his eyes, focusing on his heart, his soul. What did they tell him?

Aye, the tightness in his shoulders eased. The fractured wall crumbled. 'Twas almost as if he could float away on the salty breeze.

He could forgive, but could he trust?

As for love... hell, he had never stopped loving her, had he? 'Twas why the betrayal had stabbed and sliced at him so long and hard. He had loved and hated simultaneously, opposite edges of the same sharp blade. No matter how many years passed, he would never be free of her. And he didn't want to be. Their souls and hearts were bonded.

Aye, she stirred up his entire being like the Corryvreckan whirlpool, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When would he be able to take that last step and trust her again? He didn't know.

He wanted to spend a lot more time with her. But first, he must visit the selkies, Kenneth, and his guards, to see if the bastard earl had raided while Brodie had been absent. He glanced down to where he'd dropped his sealskin, but... it was gone.

Where was it?

He searched, inside the cave and outside. "What the hell?" he growled. Had it blown away?

Was the curse broken? Nay. He still craved the sea. He still felt warm enough, despite being naked in the chill wind.