Page 52 of Alec

Chapter Thirteen

Alec awoke to find himself hanging from bale hoist chains in the stable hayloft, where the MacBren’s men had strung him up after beating him unconscious. He glanced down to assure they hadn’t cut open his belly to drag out his guts, something they’d done to more than a few male vassals who defied them. His tunic hung in tatters, and he could see the deep reddish-purple bruises they’d left on his torso slowly turning yellow brown, but his hide appeared intact. Carefully he took in a breath, expecting to suffer the agony of splintered ribs, but it seemed his bones had already healed.

Olivia’s safe with Ava, and Darro shall take my place and command the men. If I stay alive until dawn, I may beg a chance again to parlay with the MacBren.

He didn’t worry about his chances at survival. He might be beaten again, and even tortured for the guards’ amusement, but they wouldn’t set fire to the hayloft to burn him. That would kill all of the horses they’d stabled inside, and the flames would easily spread to their encampment. He simply had to endure the night of torment that awaited him, something that was a very old talent of his.

At least nothing they did would surprise him.

In his boyhood his grandsire had always shackled and locked him in the barn for the night. Alec had begged him to leave him free, but the old man refused, saying that if he did he would run away. His grandsire didn’t know what happened to Alec while he was sleeping in the farmhouse. He ignored the signs he saw when he came out to release him.

Och, look at you. The old man always seemed pleased to see him scratched and bruised and battered, even when he hadn’t been the one to inflict the injuries. Mayhap the Gods shall do the work of making you a man for me.

Although Alec could hear nothing, his other senses grew acute after sunset. Seeing some chaff rise in a swirl in front of him made him tense and peer at the nearest window, but it remained empty. Then the scent of white lilies came to him, and he muffled a groan as a cloaked, hooded silhouette climbed up the hayloft stairs and came to stand in front of him. Burnished brown hair spilled out as she pushed back the hood.

“Go back.” He whispered the words unwillingly, for he wanted nothing more than to spend his last hours with Olivia.

She smiled and shook her head before she showed him a key, which she used to release his right wrist from the manacles, and then his left. He almost collapsed on her before he was able to steady his legs, and she quickly braced him against her as she led him over to sit atop a bale of hay. When she would have drawn back he pulled her into his arms and pressed her close, breathing in her scent and reveling in her softness.

Later he would find and throttle whoever let Olivia leave the stronghold to come to him. For now, he simply wanted to hold her.

Her hands stroked his shoulders and back, soothing him, but then she shifted so she could look into his eyes. From inside the cloak she produced a small roll of parchment, which she unrolled and held in the faint light for him to read.

You can blame me for Olivia’s visit, War Master. She already knew there were secret passages, and I knew she wouldn’t stop searching. The other clansmen couldn’t be spared, so I told her about the underground tunnel that opens in the back stall. I hope you both use it to return. Ava

Alec heaved a sigh of relief and started to get to his feet. Olivia’s expression changed, and she pushed him down before going to and peering over the edge of the hayloft platform. She hurried back, put a finger against her lips and pointed down, then held up three fingers. When he went to look, he saw three of the MacBren’s guards standing just outside the front entry.

But as he was about to back away, a shout must have come from the nearby tents. A man who had the look of a chieftain pointed to the guards and then at one of the temporary structures behind him. As they trotted over, Alec could see activity throughout the makeshift settlement. It looked as though preparations were being made for their departure.

Alec stood back. While the men didn’t appear to be interested in returning to the hayloft to torture him, he couldn’t take a chance of being seen. If they returned to take him hostage or retrieve something left in the stables, they would spot him and Olivia as they descended to the tunnel. If they were breaking camp, the safest thing would be to wait until they’d truly gone.

He pointed to Olivia and the space behind the hay bales, and she nodded and hid herself there. After watching the encampment for a few minutes to assure they did not come back, Alec joined her.

She had removed her cloak and spread it over some loose straw, creating a bed for herself. She wore a gown in a bright red color, one he recognized as the piece she had been sewing. The cut seemed odd, as it had no sleeves, and a bodice that wrapped over her chebs instead of being laced up. Still, the vibrant red of the gown brought out the fiery tints in her hair and lent a rosy caste to her fair skin.

You should ever wear red, my lady, Alec thought.

He moved to stand by the bales and watch, but she came and took hold of his hand, tugging him back to the bed she’d made. If he asked what she wanted he might alert the guards to her presence, and he wouldn’t hear her answer anyway. Yet all became clear as she lay back on the cloak and held out her hand. Her expression appeared loving and beseeching at the same time, which made his heart twist.

She was offering herself to him.

Alec lay beside her and placed one hand on her belly while propping his head up with the other. She covered his fingers with her own before she began unwrapping the bodice of her red gown. Beneath it she wore a white garment that cupped her chebs as lovingly as a tender hand, and he dimly recalled Farlan calling such lingerie, the modern world name for female undergarments. He very much liked her lingerie, but he wished to see what lay beneath it.

Alec put his mouth close to her ear. “We mustnae make any sound, my dreòlan.”

Olivia nodded, turned her head and brushed her lips over his before she reached for something between her breasts. As she touched it the front of her lingerie separated as if cut in half, and her gaze caught his.

I’m yours, her eyes seemed to say as she brought his hand just above one mound but did not press his fingers to her flesh. You must decide if you’re mine.

Alec could detect the faint tremors in her belly, and how her thighs had tensed and yet parted as she watched his face. She desired him, and would give him anything he wanted, he suspected, but only if he wanted such from her. Somehow she had realized how important that would be for him. That was the one gift no female had ever offered him. His body wanted to make this decision for him with his muscles knotting and his cock so hard he wondered if he could even get inside her before he spilled.

In his heart he’d always known that Olivia was his. Now he would make himself hers.

Olivia had to bite her lip to keep from making any sound as Alec put his hand on her breast, caressing it with his fingertips while he watched her face. Her nipple had tightened so much it hurt, and the stroking rub of his thumb back and forth over it only added to the torment. She arched her back, pushing her mound against his hand in hopes that he would do more and put an end to this hot, aching need.

Alec smiled a little and bent his head, holding her breast now as he covered her peak with his mouth and began to lick and tug on it.

He was going to take his time with her, Olivia realized, but she was too fascinated by the sight of his mouth on her body to urge him to do more. The way he used his tongue made all the longing inside her knot in her lower belly, and sent a gush of wetness between her thighs. Never in her limited experience had she ever been so aroused. If he kept sucking at her breast she might explode before he did anything more.