Page 33 of Her Highland Destiny

Fergus’ awareness latched to the king’s and saw exactly what the king wished to do with Cassandra. His muscles flared with white hot heat and he roared in protest. He moved forward three steps. Four. Five, pushing through the magic binding him.

Allisandre put up another hand and stayed him. Fergus growled and fought, even while his brain reeled. Not Allisandre. Lachina?

“Who are ye?” he demanded. “What happened to Allisandre?”

A handful of men in black chain mail surrounded Cassandra and locked their hands over her slender arms. One soldier stood behind her, his elbow crooked under her chin at her throat.

The witch rolled her eyes at Fergus. “There never was an Allisandre, ye fool. It was how we were able to trick ye into believing she was dead. If she were a real person, dinna ye think ye’d have felt her?”

He shook his head, refusing to believe what Lachina said. After all, he had held Allisandre in his arms, he had kissed her, and he had stared into those brilliant green eyes. A shiver rattled through him. The memory surfaced, real and true - the unnaturally green eyes and the intensity of her stare, as though she meant to devour him. Or control him.

Nausea rolled through his stomach. All of it had been a lie. His life had been a lie.

The men pushed Cassandra to the dais where the king drummed his fingers over the arm of the throne with dramatic impatience. Fergus fought harder against the unseen wall holding him back, but it did not yield.

He had been lied to, deceived. A horrifying thought shot through him, as sharp and painful as a marksman’s arrow. Lachina was too old to bear a child.

His heart slammed against his ribs. “What of my son?” he asked in a voice he could not keep from trembling. “What of Geordie?”

The king glanced to the witch with the mirth of those sharing a cruel joke. Together they gave a malicious bark of laughter.

His stomach slid lower.

Nay.

“Dinna be so foolish.” Lachina shook her head, her eyes sparkling. She slid another look to the king, but he was occupied with Cassandra who stood a foot away.

“Did ye no’ hear what I told ye before?” Lachina’s bushy gray brows crinkled her forehead upward. “Ye canna track people who dinna exist.”

Fergus gritted his teeth and a knot of tension tightened at the back of his throat. “What do ye mean?”

“Ye know what I mean,” she snarled.

The king reached for Cassandra, his slender white hand stretching toward her neck.

“Say it,” Fergus demanded. The vehemence of his voice echoed off the cold stone and shot back at him.

“Did ye ever once feel the lad in yer mind?” the witch countered.

“Say it,” Fergus roared. His vision dotted with white and his palms tingled.

“Ye daft lout.” The witch spat upon the ground. “Yer son dinna ever exist anymore than yer wife did.”

Fergus ceased fighting the magic and staggered back against the wall. That was it. The entire life Fergus had sacrificed for, what he had led Cassandra to her death for and abandoned his mother to a lonely estate for, all of it had been for naught.

He balled his hands into fists at his side and howled with the force of a demon. He had lost everything.

13

Cassandra had bided her time, and guarded her talents until now. The king had his suspicions about her, she’d seen as much in his thoughts when Fergus had touched her arm.

King Edgar thought her too slight, too insignificant to be a threat - even with the stone’s power behind her. He had underestimated her. They all had.

Exactly as she had planned.

Fergus’ agonized cry reverberated through her and left her heart trembling with sorrow for his loss. There was no son to rescue. There was nothing more to save, except Scotland.

Cassandra gripped the guard’s arm locked over her throat to hold the man against her back, and bent over while drawing him forward. The man fought against the momentum with a speed only an enchantment could afford him. But her action had been too sudden, too unexpected. He flew over her head and collided with the king.