Page 1 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

Chapter One

From the first moment she clapped eyes on him, Deva MacLean knew that here was the man she would marry. Just like that - it was so instant, so arbitrary, and so completely impossible.

The sun slid through the autumn skies, bringing a shaft of light into the woodlands where she collected fruit. Then she saw him.

An unknown young man, riding through the clearing as if he owned it. Correction; an unknown handsome young man.

Deva frowned. She had thought that she was alone, with just her maid, Allyth, somewhere behind her. This was private woodland. Trespassers were to be shot first and questioned later. Everyone knew that.

Wondering who he might be, Deva put down the basket she was carrying and forgot all about the apples to look closer. Leaning forward, she was about to ask him his business when she stopped.

His eyes. Glinting through the trees, his fiery eyes drew her in, compelling her to look closer. And when she did, there was no going back. Because there, in front of her eyes, was a picture of perfection.

Just for a moment, who he was, and what he was doing in their lands were secondary concerns. With her heart stuttering in her chest, Deva looked at the lad. He was unusually handsome, with waves of brown hair framing his strong facial contours. But it was the eyes that held her, glowering in the dim light like hot coals. Deva gazed at their incandescence; they were like nothing she had ever seen; a sun dipped in honey, their rays dazzling her.

Here, Deva brought herself up. She needed to get a grip and fast. But as she turned to go, something caught her eye.

Something – or someone – had flitted across the glade but almost immediately vanished again. And now, a sound; hooves, galloping from somewhere across the glen. Anxiously, Deva looked around.

Nothing.

Then, overhead, an arrow soared, skimming the edges of the trees and jettisoning into the clearing ahead.

“Get doon, laddie!” she hissed. But he did not hear. For a moment or two, Deva was torn. She wanted to go and help, warn him of the men coming. But a cursory glance told her she was much too far away to be any use. And besides, her long red hair was signposting to the entire world her presence. Right on cue, the wind picked it up and sent it flying across the gray winter skies like a flare.

Her heart thumping hard, Deva hesitated. What should she do? What could she do? She couldn’t just leave him to his fate.

But the hooves approaching reached a crescendo, and finally, she saw them. The two brigands who had fired the arrows came crashing through the ravine with a treacherous zeal.

Now arrows were falling like autumn leaves, searing through the copse close to his head. Heart in her mouth, Deva bit down a scream.

She needed to yell at him, holler, do whatever it took to get his attention, regardless of what it might mean for her.

Boldly, she opened her mouth. “Qu…” she started, but the words she was about to speak were ripped from her by a hand on her mouth.

“Shush!” The instruction was bold, but Deva did not turn. Although momentarily flushed, she was more annoyed than anything to be silenced.

“I watched them from across the glade—they’re armed an’ dangerous, an’ they might hear ye!” the voice warned her. But Deva shook her head ferociously.

“They need to hear!” she hissed, venom burning in her deep blue eyes. But then, she bit her lip and conceded that Allyth might be right. She always was.

Displeased, Deva turned to look at Allyth, her best friend and lady-in-waiting. She had not heard her approaching through the wet bracken and undergrowth.

“We dinnae ken who they are,” continued Allyth, looking at her, her light green eyes aflame, “It isnae safe, so get doon… Miss!”

Being too far away to affect much change, Deva complied. But her hands still shook as she hid in the undergrowth of the Scots Pine tree, which pricked at her uncomfortably.

Fortunately, the arrow had missed its mark, and the young man in the clearing continued his trot, cantering slowly on the jet-black stallion into the center of the woods.

Deva frowned from across the copse. It was as if he hadn’t seen the arrow at all! But with the two men still pushing their way through the woods, Deva’s anxiety rose like a crescendo.

Whatever the danger, she could not sit back and do nothing. Casting her reservations to one side, she leaned in through the foliage.

“Hoo!” her voice sung through the air. Beneath her, Allyth’s fingers dug in, urging her back, but Deva could not.

Maybe she had no desire to be spotted by these men – who were likely bandits. But equally, she couldn’t salve her conscience if something happened to the young man on the horse.

“Get doon,” pleaded Allyth, pulling her back to the safety of the bush. Reluctantly, Deva complied.