Gawen's Claim: Highlander Fate, Lairds of the Isles Book One

  Gawen's Claim

  Highlander Fate, Lairds of the Isles Book One

  Stella Knight

  Copyright © 2019 by Stella Knight

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  stellaknightbooks.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  Cover Design by Kim Killion

  Also by Stella Knight

  Highlander Fate Series

  Eadan’s Vow

  Ronan’s Captive

  Ciaran’s Bond

  Niall’s Bride

  Artair’s Temptress

  Latharn’s Destiny

  Highlander Fate Omnibus Books 1-3

  Pronunciation Guide

  Gawen - GOW-in

  Siobhan - shi-VAWN

  Aonghus - AIN-gus

  Achdara - ASH-dawr-uh

  Mysie - MIE-see

  Inghean - IHN-jiy-in

  Coira - KAWR-uh

  Kudan - KU-dun

  Ysenda - IH-send-ah

  Malmuira - MAEL-my-ruh

  Sgaire - SKAW-ruh

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Glossary

  Stay in touch!

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Present Day

  Isle of Skye, Scotland

  “I’ve detected an anomaly in the strands of time.”

  Lila went absolutely still at the words, her heart pounding against her ribcage. The woman who’d spoken, Siobhan, stood at the head of the drawing room, holding the gazes of each man and woman who sat before her.

  Lila clenched her trembling hands in her lap, sucking in a breath. The men and women gathered in Siobhan’s drawing room were all stiuireadh—descendants of druid witches who had the ability to travel through time. When you had the ability to travel through time, there wasn’t much that could shock you. But Siobhan’s words caused shock to ripple through the room.

  “I’ve used Locator spells to try and determine the exact time and place of this anomaly,” Siobhan continued, her brow furrowing with worry.

  Siobhan was in her late forties, a willowy woman with dark hair and intelligent hazel eyes. As head of their coven, Siobhan was always the face of calm; Lila had never seen her look even mildly concerned before.

  “The closest I could get was to May 1395, here on the Isle of Skye. I believe it’s another witch causing this anomaly. Only someone with our powers can do such a thing.”

  Siobhan paused, allowing a moment for her words to sink in before she continued.

  “This anomaly is the reason I’ve called this coven meeting. I need one of you to travel back to this time and stop this dark witch, whoever he or she is. There were several clans on the island at this time; all have partaken in the Pact. My Locator spells have placed this dark witch on the north part of the island—the seat of the MacRaild clan. Gawen MacRaild, laird and chief, has already been contacted and is prepared to assist whoever we send.”

  Gawen MacRaild. For some reason, a sense of familiarity settled over Lila at the mention of the name, though she was certain she’d never heard it before. Whoever this Gawen was, he knew of magic, time travel, and witches . . . all because of the Pact.

  Centuries ago, a coven of stiuireadh had helped the chieftains of the Western Scottish Isles ward off waves of invaders from the north, who’d ignored a peace treaty signed between the kings of Scotland and Norway and continued to pillage. As an act of gratitude for their assistance, the chieftains had vowed to assist the stiuireadh in return. Every descendant of these chieftains of the isles—and those stiuireadh—had the ancient Pact drilled into their memory.

  We, the lairds and chieftains of the isles, vow to forever assist the stiuireadh in their quest to protect the strands of time and humanity from those who seek destruction.

  Lila swallowed hard, her pulse thrumming against the base of her throat. She needed to volunteer. This was the opportunity she’d been seeking for years. She’d traveled to the year 1395 before with her sister, Avery, and she was familiar with the Isle of Skye, having visited with her family many times over the years.

  “Is there anyone who is willing to—”

  Lila was on her feet before Siobhan could finish her sentence. She could feel her blood rushing through her veins as every eye in the room landed on her. But she held her head high, even at the looks of disbelief—and amusement—on the faces of the other witches. She knew what they were all thinking. Lila Fletcher, the weak daughter of those powerful American witches, Isaac and Karen? Why not her stronger sister, Avery? Why not her parents?

  “I’ll do it,” Lila said firmly, continuing to ignore their stares.

  To her relief, Siobhan wasn’t looking at her with disbelief or amusement. She didn’t look surprised at all, as if she’d expected her to volunteer.

  “My parents are vacationing in Bermuda, and my sister is on one of her time-traveling field trips; I believe she’s in the seventeenth century. Or the nineteenth. That's—that’s why they couldn’t attend this meeting,” Lila continued, hating the way her voice wavered with defensiveness.

  “I’m aware of the whereabouts of your family,” Siobhan said, giving her a patient smile, and Lila flushed with embarrassment. Of course, Siobhan knew where her family was; she was a Time Seer—a fiosaiche. Only Seers could serve as heads of covens; they were the only ones who could detect anomalies in the fabric of time and were the best at Locator spells. But this also meant that they could rarely travel through time; their magic worked best when they remained in the time in which they were born.

  “Why do you want to go back?” Siobhan asked now, her dark eyes probing Lila’s.

  Because I need to prove to all of you, myself, and my family that I deserve to be a stiuireadh. That I’m just as strong as my family, or any of you, Lila thought, with a flash of defiance.

  “I’ve been to that year before with my sister,” Lila said instead. “Avery wanted to explore what a young Edinburgh was like in that time. And I’m familiar with Skye; I’ve been here many times.”

  “Being familiar with the year, and the island, isn’t good enough,” Fergus Cattenach, one of the older members of the coven, snapped. “We need someone powerful enough to locate and take on this dark witch who’s wreaking havoc with time. We know that your parents and sister are strong with Time magic, but none of us have seen you demonstrate such power.”

  Several others murmured words of agreement, and a surge of uncertainty flooded Lila's body. To her surprise, it was Siobhan who spoke up to defend her.

  “This und
ertaking is not about a show of power,” Siobhan said. “Once Lila locates this dark witch, if she’s unable to defeat her using her magic, she can send for another witch from the coven to assist her. But for now, we can only send one. This witch may be able to sense if another stiuireadh is trying to stop her; we need to keep our presence in this time to a minimum.”

  Disappointment coursed through her; she wanted to be the one to destroy the dark witch. But she made herself remain silent. She needed them to agree to send her back, so she wouldn’t offer any protests.

  “Does that sound agreeable, Lila?” Siobhan asked.

  “Yes."

  “Are there any other objections to sending Lila back?” Siobhan asked. Her tone was light, but there was no mistaking the challenge in her words.

  Lila braced herself for the barrage of protests. But no one, not even the sour-faced Fergus, interjected. None of them wanted to argue with Siobhan, the most powerful among them—and their leader. The tension ebbed from Lila's shoulders as Siobhan turned back to face her.

  "Well, Lila," Siobhan said, giving her a wide smile, “let’s get you prepared for the fourteenth century.”

  * * *

  Lila fled to her guest room after the meeting, wanting to escape the dismissive looks of the other witches. She didn’t know if the reason for their hostility was because they themselves had wanted to go, or if they didn’t trust her to carry out the tasks. Or both, Lila grimly thought to herself.

  Lila had grown up learning all about the magic in her bloodline, of their incredible ability to travel through time. She’d eagerly waited until she came of age, the only time her protective parents would let her and Avery travel, to take her first trip through time.

  She and Avery had traveled to the year 1922; it was the earliest time period their parents initially allowed them to travel to. She’d taken in every detail of the past with awe. Avery had shared her delight, but her parents had always warned them of the limits—and dangers—of time travel.

  Yet what she’d learned most of all was her lack of power compared to her parents or her sister. The spells, which came easily to them, were a struggle for Lila. And if she wasn’t with Avery, it was difficult for her to issue the complex spells required to travel through time. In fact, she’d never traveled through time on her own: Avery had always accompanied her.

  Shame roiled through her at the thought. Avery and her parents had continually insisted that she was just as strong as they were; it was her own self-doubt limiting her abilities, but Lila thought they were just being kind. She wanted—needed—to prove to herself that she was strong.

  Lila expelled a sigh, glancing over at her cell phone resting on the side table next to the bed. Her parents would be worried sick once they knew where and when she was going. And she had no idea how long she’d be in the past. Weeks? Months? Years? She knew there were witches who stayed in the past for long periods of time; she’d even heard of witches who’d fallen in love with men and women in the past and chosen to stay.

  Lila had no intention of staying. As much as she enjoyed her jaunts to the past, she was too fond of the conveniences of modern-day life. She just wanted to carry out her task, prove her worth, and return all the stronger for it.

  Lila gritted her teeth, deciding to get the dreaded phone call to her parents over with. She wished Avery was with them; her sister was always good at reeling in their protective instincts. But Avery was off on one of her time-traveling jaunts. Avery loved traveling through time, even more so than Lila. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her adventurous sister. As envious as she’d been of Avery over the years, she loved her dearly, and missed her whenever she traveled on her own.

  She picked up the phone and dialed her father’s number, praying they were snorkeling or exploring the island and she could just leave a voice mail. But her father answered on the first ring.

  “It’s good to hear your voice, sweetheart,” her father’s voice boomed over the line. “How was the meeting?”

  “It was . . . eventful,” she replied, and told him about the anomaly Siobhan had detected.

  “Ah,” her father said, after a brief pause. “Who's going back to deal with it? It’s too bad your sister is off on one of her adventures—she would’ve loved to do something like this.”

  That old, familiar jealousy swelled in her chest. She tamped it down, reminding herself that her father meant no harm . . . and he was right. This task would be a cinch for Avery.

  She took a deep breath; it was time to change their perception of her. To change her perception of herself.

  “I am.”

  The pause on the other end of the line went on for so long that she feared she’d dropped the call. When her father spoke again, his voice was hard: a tone that had frightened her when she was a little girl.

  “You most certainly are not,” he snapped. “You will get on a plane this instant and—”

  Before Lila could reply, angry self-defense rising in her gut—she was twenty-six years old, for God’s sake, and her father had scolded her like she was a misbehaving child—her mother’s calm voice came on over the line.

  “What your father is trying to say,” her mother said, “is that he loves you very much, and he’s worried. The only reason your father suggested Avery is because she’s done something like this before, so—”

  “And I can as well,” Lila snapped, her patience wearing thin. “How do you think I’ve always felt, knowing that I’m not as powerful as the rest of you? Never feeling like I belonged?”

  Despite herself, her voice caught, and she closed her eyes against the hot sting of tears.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” her mother breathed, concern shaping her voice. “We’ve always told you—”

  “I know what you’ve always told me,” Lila interjected, her voice rising with determination, “and since I’m an adult who makes her own decisions, I’m going back in time to find this dark witch. And I'm going to stop her."

  Chapter 2

  1395

  Carraig Castle

  Isle of Skye, Scotland

  “When will the stiuireadh arrive?” Aonghus asked.

  Gawen didn’t look up from the flames of the fireplace, taking a sip of his ale.

  “On the morrow,” he grumbled, irritation coursing through him at the thought of this witch who would soon disrupt the steady pace of his daily routine.

  “I can tell by the look of ye how happy this makes ye,” Aonghus said, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

  Gawen shot his steward a look of annoyance, taking another swig of ale; ale which wasn’t strong enough. He and Aonghus were gathered in his private study where they could talk of such matters—magical matters—without being overheard.

  He’d been in a foul mood ever since a letter had appeared in his study, written in halting Gaelic by Siobhan, a stiuireadh from a time in the future, informing him of a dark witch's presence on his lands, and the pending arrival of a stiuireadh to stop her. She’d reminded him of the old Pact his ancestors had made.

  He’d scowled at the letter, both unnerved and irritated at this stiuireadh’s ability to communicate with him through time. There was a time when he would have been happy, perhaps even eager, to assist these mystical, time-traveling witches. But now he felt only bitterness and resentment at the thought. It was only his concern over her mention of a dark witch—an aingidh—on his lands that made him heed the letter.

  Recently, two farmers had been found murdered on his lands. The men he’d had investigate informed him their murders were likely the result of a dispute over cattle or land. Gawen had suspected there was more to these murders. There were disputes all the time on his lands, but they rarely resulted in murder. A chill crept along his skin. What if the murders were because of this dark witch Siobhan mentioned?

  "I'll do my duty when she arrives,” he muttered. "If I need tae leave the castle tae assist her, will ye—”

  "I'll handle things here. Ye need nae worry," Aon
ghus assured him, and Gawen’s sour mood ebbed—somewhat.

  As his steward, Aonghus ran the castle with smooth efficiency. He’d been vital during the past three years as Gawen’s grief had immersed him in self-imposed solitude, and it had proved increasingly difficult to tend to castle matters.

  But he knew the time for his self-imposed solitude had come to an end. Before the stiuireadh's visit, he'd begun preliminary discussions with his nobles about taking a bride. He would need an heir, and at thirty-two he was getting older. As the last surviving member of his family, it was imperative that he continue the bloodline.

  The thought of marriage brought him no joy. He would make it clear to his bride that their marriage was only a matter of duty. Once she bore him sons, she would have her own life as he would have his. After suffering the loss of his beloved parents and sister, Gordana, during a small outbreak of plague three years ago, he was leery of forming emotional ties to anyone. The very thought of losing a future bairn sent a wave of fear roiling through his belly.

  His grip tightened on his cup of ale. After his family’s deaths, he’d sent for a stiuireadh, knowing they could manipulate time. He’d begged her to change the past to save his family’s lives. She’d insisted that this was something that time wouldn’t allow to change.

  Some things that have already happened simply must be, she’d said, giving him a sorrowful look.