Page 13 of A Little Highland Magic

Harold offered her a salute with his sword and instead of waiting as she’d taught him, he rushed forward, cutting and slashing. Aria parried his blade, then with a jab of her shoulder sent him to the ground. “You must learn to fight with more than your blade.”

Before the young man could gain his feet, another challenger stepped forward. “Let me see if I can do better.” The man fought well but was not good enough to best her, as he ended up on the ground at her feet, her blade hovering above his throat.

The next challenger came forward only to be defeated. Then another took his place. Aria and the MacDonalds’ blades clashed again and again, the clink of steel creating a rhythmic sound that reverberated in the morning stillness. As Aria’s sword caught the air, a pulse entered her blood, warming a part of her soul that she’d kept hidden for years: the part of her that allowed her to care for others. She’d hidden it away for years so that when the frequent rejections happened as they did in Fairyland, she would not be hurt. It was why she had become a warrior. So that she could at least defend her physical self. Her heart and soul were harder to protect, and those she had kept hidden from herself and from Oberon so that he would have a harder time discovering her location by detecting her emotions.

Energised by the lowering of her barriers, Aria battled the men until she had defeated every one of them multiple times. Until another set of footsteps sounded behind her and more challengers appeared. This time they were of the MacLeod clan. Graeme stood at the front of the MacLeod men. “What is happening here?”

Aria sheathed her weapon and held out her hands in supplication. “These men came here this morning to apologise for their behaviour last night and asked if I would teach them a few battle techniques. They mean no harm.”

Graeme’s gaze passed over the MacDonald men behind her, assessing. They did not look aggressive to her eye. Instead, they were dusty, mussed, and bruised from their mock battles with her.

“We truly meant only to learn from the woman. There was no malice behind our behaviour this time,” the large, red-haired man she’d come to know as Daimh said.

Graeme’s features cleared and a bark of laughter cut through the morning air. “Then this is a first for the MacDonalds and the MacLeods. To come together in even a mock battle as opponents instead of enemies.”

The MacDonalds’ laughter joined Graeme’s. “Shall we continue our new arrangement with these newcomers?” Daimh asked his men. “Perhaps we might have a chance of victory if we use our newly learned skills.”

Agreement quickly spread among both sides, and the men paired off, leaving Aria to stand alone, without a partner. Instead of feeling left out, relief washed over her. She could have continued to fight these men and would still have succeeded, but it was comforting to know she did not have to. The MacLeods—Graeme—had come to fight beside her, whether in a mock or real battle. She had family now who would help her. It was the very reason she had left Fairyland, to find her kin and become a part of their daily lives.

Aria retreated to the fence and remained there, watching the various battles before her. The MacDonalds were fighting much better than they had previously. They were waiting, balancing on the balls of their feet for their MacLeod opponents to strike. And even though she tried to keep her attention fixed to the MacDonalds, her gaze always strayed back to Graeme.

He battled Daimh. And although Daimh was larger and heavier-muscled than Graeme, the captain of the guard used his litheness to his advantage, getting in strikes that his opponent did not anticipate.

A tingling of excitement raced through Aria’s blood as her gaze lingered on Graeme. He was tall, more than six feet, with powerful shoulders and long, muscular legs. His thick brown hair was shorn close to his head in a very practical way. Long hair tended to obscure vision in a battle, which was why she kept hers twisted at the temples and tied back.

Her gaze moved from his face to his finely honed arms and then his hands that clutched his sword, not too hard, but with just the right amount of force to keep it firmly in his control. His fingers were long, and tanned, much like his face, as though he spent much of his time outside in the elements.

Aria released a breath she had not realised she’d been holding, and the soft sound brought Graeme’s gaze to hers. The impact of his startling blue eyes sent warmth up her spine. His eyes narrowed with surprise or pleasure—she wasn’t certain which—before he turned back to his opponent.

“Such a lovely view.” A voice beside her startled Aria’s attention away from Graeme. She turned to see Gwendolyn had taken up a position at the fence beside her. A heartbeat later Fiona came to settle on the other side.

“Battles, whether mock or real, should never be seen as lovely. They are a means to an end, and to be avoided if at all possible,” Aria replied after she recovered from the women’s startling arrivals.

Fiona smiled. “Gwendolyn was referring to the sight of Graeme fighting. You cannot seem to take your eyes off him.”

A flush stained Aria’s cheeks. “I was . . . He is a very fine warrior.”

“Is that all?” Gwendolyn asked. “This isn’t the first time we have noticed you watching him.”

Aria swallowed hard, fighting her sudden nervousness. The memory of his startling gaze came back to her, and her heart gave a hard bump. “Nay. We are merely warriors, trying to achieve the same goal.”

Gwendolyn’s eyes warmed as she smiled. “It is no sin to admit your attraction to him. Fiona and I are both familiar with the looks you give him, and he returns to you.”

“He does no such thing,” Aria objected, though the thought eased the jittery sensation in her stomach.

“We both know it is somewhat terrifying to admit when you have feelings for someone, but there is no reason for you to run from your feelings anymore, Aria.” Gwendolyn’s smile was sincere. “You are home. You are loved by the MacLeods. Do you not deserve love in return?”

Love? Aria would rather face her fiercest enemy than let the notion of loving another person enter her thoughts. “I cannot allow myself to feel the happier emotions, not for anyone.” If she did, the fairy king might find her, draw her back to Fairyland, and punish her once again.

“It is time to stop running and hiding behind your weapons.” Fiona reached out and placed her hand atop Aria’s where it rested on the railing. “Stop thinking and allow yourself to feel for a change.”

“How can I?” Aria’s stomach twisted in sudden panic. She closed her eyes, digging deep into her true feelings. She did appreciate Graeme. Perhaps more than she should. But could she take the risk of letting him know that? Could she risk opening herself to Oberon’s possible wrath? That said, she had been here several months now, and Oberon had yet to find her. Perhaps he no longer cared anything about her.

Aria opened her eyes and stepped back, shifting her gaze between Gwendolyn and Fiona. “What if I do acknowledge my feelings and Graeme does not return them? What if I give in to that part of myself and he opens something inside me that I cannot close again? What happens then?”

Fiona’s brows furrowed in concern. “The chances are good that he will return your feelings.”

“And if he does not? How will I live with that?” Aria shook her head. “Nay, it is better to keep things as they are between us. I am not good at taking risks.”