Page 126 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

Annoyed with himself, he scanned the ground again for the sealskin. Had he dropped it closer to the surf? Even if he had, the tide was going out, so it should still be here.

Nay, he remembered dropping it just as he was entering the cave, but 'twas nowhere to be found. Had a bird come by and stolen it?

He glanced around, his gaze searching not only the ground but also the cave's ceiling and up the cliff outside.

A dark sea eagle sailed from the crags over the cave, the long, black sealskin held firmly in its talon. The high-pitched screeches echoed as she flew over the sea toward the mainland.

Wilona MacRae!

"Bitch!" he roared at her.

Damn her. Now he was trapped here. Stranded, for he couldn't swim as a human back to Farspag, nor to Rònmòrach. 'Twas too far, and he wasn't daft enough to attempt it.

He paced, turmoil within him. Why the devil hadn't he kept his sealskin on his shoulder? He didn't even have a plaid now. Naught but the witch's blanket inside the cave. He cursed her dozens more times, calling her every vile name he could think of.

First, the hag had wanted him to be a selkie, and now she was stealing even that from him. Why didn't she come back here and face him?

Drained, he sat on the dry sand. The sun turned the clouds orange as it ascended in the sky, making him think of Elsea, for she would love it.

He wished she had slept beside him all night.

A short time later, two galleys approached, his clansmen rowing, the sails down. He rose, never so glad to see his own clan, along with Gavin and Torr. Brodie lifted a hand to them, then returned to the cave long enough to wrap the plaid blanket around his waist. He carried Elsea's sgian dubh.

He waded into the surf. One galley approached the island while the other remained offshore.

Gavin, Torr, and over a dozen more men were on board.

"What happened?" Gavin called from the galley as they beached.

"The damnable witch stole my sealskin and stranded me here. She shifted into a sea eagle and flew away with it. Hold this," Brodie held up the sgian dubh.

Gavin took it and examined the grip. "Who does this belong to?"

"The wee warrior." Using his arm to propel him upwards, Brodie leapt onto the galley, his chest unaffected by the effort.

"Saints, you healed quickly." Gavin eyed the pink scar on his chest.

"Aye."

"We brought your clothes from the mainland cave, just in case you need them," Torr said, handing him a sack of his belongings, including sheathed weapons.

"I thank you." He set about dressing. "Head out to Rònmòrach. I must check on the selkies, Kenneth, and the men. I have nay inkling if the bastard earl has attacked them in my absence."

"About that," Gavin said. "Finnian gave us a warning before we left Farspag."

A chill in his bones, Brodie frowned. "What sort of warning?"

"Using a mirror as a keek stane, he foresaw an impending selkie raid. We kept it a secret from the ladies since naught is certain."

Brodie growled a curse. "Row harder. We must hurry to Rònmòrach."

Chapter 25

Elsea stood at the window, as she had for most of the morning, with the empty gray-blue expanse of the sea spread out before her. She willed the galleys to sail into view, but they didn't. The sun hung high in the sky, and the mist had vanished. The small islands sat resolute in the distance, too far away to see any galleys. Brodie was out there. Was he alright? Everyone had said he'd left at dawn. Why would he risk it so soon after his injury? He was not yet well enough to swim that far, even though Finnian had told them he'd removed his stitches and saw that the cut was well closed.

Mayhap as a seal, Brodie could swim that far. If so, why hadn't he returned?

The memory of the previous night took possession of her mind. Surely, she had shown him how much she loved him. How could he doubt it?