“Ye are stirring up a lot of trouble, arenae ye?” “Me? I just came to explore this building. She is the one stirring up trouble. She wants Cathal, I think.” “She does, e’en though his Outsider blood sickens her. Edmee would like to be the lady of Cambrun. She has ne’er been able to convince Cathal of that, however. It doesnae help her cause that she makes her contempt of his mother so verra clear. Cathal has ne’er intended to wed with a MacNachton, either. He wants bairns.” Bridget frowned at him. “There is a wee bit more to me than a womb, ye ken.” “Och, aye, a wee bit.” He laughed when she softly hissed in annoyance, then grew serious. “O’er the last few days ’tis evident neither of ye will suffer in the making of a bairn.” He only briefly smiled at her blushes. “Tis a blessing, that. And where is the insult in a mon thinking a woman a good choice as mother to his bairns?” None, she supposed, but she was not about to admit it. “There should be more.” “Ah, poor lass, so unsure of yourself.” He nimbly danced out of her reach when she tried to hit him. “The only thing I will say is that, compared to the rest of us, Cathal is nearly a monk. He isnae one to be caught in embraces with a lass round every corner. And, aye, mayhap he thinks too much on a bairn, but ’tisnae just an heir he seeks, is it? Tis the salvation of his people. Tis no small thing that. So, do ye cease teasing the fool and say aye?” Bridget sighed. “Tisnae an easy thing to decide. Tisnae just my fate, but that of my children I must consider and ye ask me to do it in but a week.” “We are but a wee bit different.” “Och, aye, ye are that.” “But, that shouldnae trouble a Callan, I think.” He sighed when she did not respond to that remark. “We arenae what ye think we are, lass. Nay exactly. I dinnae believe the soulless dead breed bairns.” He smiled gently at the look of consternation that briefly crossed her face. “We are but different. Cursed in some ways, blessed in others, but ’tis Cathal who must tell ye the tale.”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Ye are alive,”she murmured and felt him tense. Cathal studied her face closely and felt his hopes rise despite her words. “Aye, lass.” He put his hand at the back of her neck and pulled her close to him to add softly, “And the only one who can put your wee bonnie soul at risk is ye.” “Weel, that is a comfort, I suppose.” “So, have ye decided ye will have me then?” “Aye.” She did not resist when he tugged her down onto his lap and kissed her while the other men cheered and hooted. “Might I ask what changed your mind?” Bridget had no intention of telling him what was in her heart, not until she got some hint as to what he felt for her. “Ye kiss weel.” “Thank ye, but I think there is another reason.” “Aye. I recently decided that I best take ye as I dinnae seem to want anyone else to have ye.” He kissed her again. It was a start. Cathal finally admitted that he wanted more, much more, from her, but he could be patient. She would soon belong to him in body and name. He was willing to work for the rest, for her heart and soul.”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Odd in what way?” “She hisses and verra weel, too. She scratches, swipes at one with those verra sharp nails of hers when ye startle her. Ye didnae see her run, but, trust me, she is verra swift and sure of foot. E’en with the full moon, most Outsiders move cautiously. The night and the shadows didnae slow her down at all. She kenned I was there ere she saw me. And, the fact that she saw me in the shadows is, weel, unusual. She dances in the moonlight. E’en though there was no sound to warn her, she kenned something had happened to her people. I watched her tense, crouch, and look about. Tis as if she scented danger upon the air.” And she purrs, Cathal thought, but only said, “Some people have keener senses about such things.” “There”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Are you the MacAdie’s sister?” she hazarded the guess as they had ascended the stairs and started along the hall. “Mither,” the woman corrected with a smile, her eyebrows rising when Eva abruptly stopped walking and gaped at her in horror. “Dear God, I’ve been married off to a boy,” Eva breathed and the woman laughed. “Nay.” “But I must be! You are not old enough to have a child more than ten.” “Connall is well past ten, lass.” “But—” Eva paused as realization claimed her. Of course, this woman was MacAdie’s stepmother, that was the obvious explanation.”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“What if Eva is already with child?” “That would be a shame,” Donaidh said with what seemed true regret. “I like Eva. She’s a sweet lass; pretty and clever and funny and a soft bundle in a man’s arms.” Connall felt his teeth grind together at this comment and Donaidh assured him. “She hasnae been unfaithful to ye, Uncle. I held her in my arms on the ride down the hill and into the bailey when we brought her back. She was soft and smelled sweet. I might marry her mesel’. Twould probably please the people, but only if she isnae carryin’ yer bairn already.” “I would not marry you if you were the last man on earth, Donaidh MacAdie.” Donaidh”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Bridget was risking a lot to marry him. She was too quick-witted not to know that. Cathal was not only flattered by that; he felt hopeful. For Bridget to do this had to mean that she cared for him, felt more than lust for him. There was a good chance that the seed of affection had already taken root in her heart. Cathal prayed he had the skill to nurture it well and make it grow. Bridget”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“I should ha’e been the one to kill him,” Connall fretted. “Ye should ha’e let me do it.” Ewan shook his head. “I brought him into the world, I failed him somehow so he turned out that way, ’twas only right I took his life back.” He ran a hand wearily through his hair, and said, “I doonae ken where we went wrong. How he—” “Ye didnae go wrong, Ewan. Ye and Aileen were the best o’ parents,” Connall interrupted, then added helplessly, “Mayhap he was jest a bad seed.” “Aye. Mayhap.”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Doonae think I’ve fergotten ye disobeyin’ me and puttin’ yersel’ at risk in a misguided attempt to save me.” She blinked in surprise at the sudden turn his anger had taken, then felt some anger of her own coming up to meet it. “Well, ‘doonae’ you think I’ve ‘fergotten’ you dared to give me such an order and expected me to watch you die like some hapless good-for-nothing twit.” Connall’s anger immediately gave way under amazement at her words. “Did you say doonae? Are ye makin fun o’ me speech, wife?” he asked with dismay. “Would I do that?” she drawled. His amazement slowly transformed, his tension easing and a small smile claiming his lips for the briefest of moments, then Connall sobered and drew her into his arms with a sigh. “Only you could make me smile at a time like this, Eva. Yer a cheeky lass.” “And yer a stubborn ass,” Eva said a tad irritably, not having quite given up her anger. “Ordering me to stand by helplessly and what? Watch ye die? Not in this lifetime, my lord. Or any other, I should hope. I am your wife, your partner, your mate. I shall guard your back, your front, and your top to bottom to the best of my sad abilities so long as there is air in my lungs and strength in my body. Do not ever expect me simply to—” Connall brought her rant to an end, simply by closing his mouth over hers. He kissed her with all the passion and hunger he felt for her, then eased the kiss slowly before gently easing away to kiss first the tip of her nose, her closed eyelids, then her forehead. “I love ye, Eva MacAdie.” Eva sighed against his chin, kissed him there, then added solemnly, “And I love you Connall MacAdie. And I will do till the day I die.” His”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Stunned, she watched a man who was Cathal, but was not, toss Scymynd halfway across the great hall as if the man weighed nothing. Could that snarling, fang-baring man truly be the man she had just married? A melee erupted and Bridget watched in horrified fascination as the beautiful, elegant MacNachtons changed before her eyes into a snarling pack of wild animals. The way they set upon each other was alarming. It should have left the great hall soaked in blood and cluttered with the dead and dying, but, time and again, the MacNachtons shook off mortal blows and returned to the fray. Mora”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Here was the truth she had only guessed at. Here was the feral beast hidden beneath the beauty, the inhuman strength that allowed a man to toss another across a room as if he weighed no more than a bairn. The speed with which they moved, the sounds they made, and the way they rose up uninjured from blows that would have put any mortal man into a grave, all revealed the truth she had tried so very hard to ignore. She would not be able to ignore it now and she feared what that might do to her future with Cathal. Then”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Now, m’lady, ye dinnae need to worry o’er our laird,” said Mora, patting Bridget on the back. “He can hold his own.” “Do they do this often?” Bridget asked, surprised at how normal her voice sounded for she was cold and trembling inside. “Nay. Oh, there are fights here and there, now and then. Tis what men do, aye? They like a wee punch and wrestle from time to time. And, weel, these lads can really only have a fair one with each other. This will knock a wee bit of sense into some of them.” “Tis because of me. I am nay saving Cathal’s clan as he wished,” she whispered, “but destroying it.” “Nay, nay. Tis but the changes that must come which stirs this up. Change ne’er sets easy on a person’s shoulders. Most all of them have the wit to see that ’tis necessary, but they will fight it for a wee while ere they settle to it. Tis only natural.” Natural”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“I suppose those mist-shrouded mountains could easily stir the imagination,” she murmured, but felt the rousing of a keen curiosity she had never been able to conquer. “Tis certain that many people fear such places, fear what might lurk in such a dark forest or in those clouded hills. But, this time, ’twas some foolish tale they heard in that village we stopped at for the night.” “Ye heard it, too?” “Nay. The men told it to me. Some tale about a creature from those hills, one who disguised himself as a mon. A mon who ne’er showed himself when the sun rose, only ventured out at night. A mon with eyes like a wolf and teeth like one, as weel. A mon so strong it took near a dozen villagers to subdue him, many of them suffering grievous injuries. A mon who could bewitch any lass into offering him her chastity.” The scorn in Nan’s voice made it very clear that she did not believe the tale at all. Bridget was pleased that that scorn did not stop the woman from repeating the tale, however. “Why did they feel the need to attack him, to subdue him? And, what did they do with him after they captured him?” “They caught him sinfully fornicating with another mon’s wife. They dragged him before the priest. Tis then that they realized what they had—a devil, a demon, one of Hell’s foul creatures. The priest had the mon tortured, but that mon didnae confess his sins or repent them. They said his wounds healed as if by magic. The priest then declared him a demon, or a witch. I am nay quite sure. They garroted him, burned him, and scattered his bones far and wide o’er the moors so that he couldnae come back to life.” “How cruel. He may have been innocent.” “I certainly doubt he was all they claim he was, but he wasnae innocent. If there was a mon executed, it was probably for the sins of fornication and adultery. He showed the villagers that their women lacked morals.” Bridget”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Bridget saw her husband look for her and shivered. The memory of how the MacNachtons had dealt with those thieves was still clear in her mind, clear and terrifying. This incident had given the chilling memories credence, ensured that she would not be able to dismiss it all as a bad dream. She now knew exactly what her husband was, what he was capable of. How could she live with that? And, yet, how could she not?”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Cathal gently strode over to the table and crouched down to look at Bridget. She was pale and trembling slightly, her beautiful blue-green eyes wide with shock. He could see her struggling with her fear of all she had just seen and felt his own fear grow stronger. The thought of losing her was terrifying, more so because she would be fleeing who he was. There was no way he could change that to keep her at his side. It would be a battle lost before it had even begun. He held his hand out to her. “Come, lass, ’tis all quiet now,” he said. “They tore their throats out,” Bridget whispered, staring into her husband’s beautiful face. “Nay, sweetling. Look about. There are no dead here.” “The thieves. I remember it all now. Your kinsmen tore their throats out.” The pain of losing her began to creep through his body, but Cathal struggled to fight off that encroaching sense of defeat. He knelt down and rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms over his thighs. There was no point in lying. Even if he could bring himself to start his marriage with a lie, she would not believe him. She was too clever and had seen too much. “Aye, I suspicion they did, or something verra like that. Those men sought to kill ye, Bridget. They did kill the others who traveled with ye. Come.” He held his hand out to her again. “Again, I swear to ye, I will ne’er hurt ye.” A part of Bridget told her to get up and run, very fast and very far. It would be the sensible thing to do. She had just been shown how little she really knew this man and what she had learned was hardly comforting. That sensible part of her had every right to urge self-preservation, but the voice of her heart proved louder and more demanding. Uttering a soft cry, she flung herself into his arms, clinging to him in the blind belief that he would keep her safe. He wrapped his arms around her and held her almost too tightly as he stood up. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed his hands up and down her back, his touch smoothing away her lingering fear.”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Despite the large smile Jankyn wore, Cathal could see the concern and unease in his cousin’s eyes. He felt the same. Bridget had come to him, but he knew everything was not as it had been before the fight. “I havenae yet kissed the bride,” Jankyn said. Bridget looked up at Jankyn as he grasped her hands in his. He was the beautifully, annoying, often smiling, Jankyn again. Then she looked into his eyes and nearly gasped. He was nervous, uncertain. She had seen what he was all too clearly and he was no longer certain of her acceptance. She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Enough,” said Cathal, nudging Jankyn aside just as his cousin began to wrap his arms around Bridget, clearly intending to help himself to a very hearty kiss. Jankyn’s”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“He set his wine goblet on the table, knelt by Bridget’s feet, and took her hands in his, pressing a kiss upon each small, soft palm before looking at her. “What ye saw happen to those thieves and what ye saw tonight is a part of me. I cannae deny it. I cannae deny that there have been MacNachtons who have behaved verra much like the creatures of some nightmare. There is a feral part of me, of us. It comes out in the hunt, in battle, in anger. It has been a verra long time, however, since MacNachtons were a threat to innocent Outsiders, although I fear Scymynd would like to be so again. They used to call us the Nightriders because we raced out of these hills at night and death always followed, though nay in the ways and numbers the tales would have ye believe. I think Scymynd wants those days to return.” “What of the sun, Cathal? Can that kill ye?” “Aye, eventually. Tis as if the sun feeds upon us, steals the life right out of us. It burns us up. A Pureblood can die rather quickly if caught out in the sun. I can endure it for a while, but it does leave me feeling weak and ill.” “And what of whatever children we may be blessed with?” “I cannae say. There isnae any way to ken what traits will weaken, which will linger, and which will disappear. My cousin Connall is of the same paternal and maternal bloodline as I am, but is different. James is born of a halfblood and an Outsider. He can endure quite a lot of daylight, but he still suffers a wee bit.” Bridget slipped her hands free of his grasp and took his face in her hands. “It matters not. I chose ye. I have said vows afore God. Tis good to ken that I deal with people, nay demons, but it still doesnae matter. Ye are my husband.” There”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Bridget looked at the men below her, but they were still standing there watching her and talking low amongst themselves. Yet, she was certain something or someone was swiftly, silently moving ever closer. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, one of the surrounding shadows became a slender, beautiful young man. She forced herself not to look right at him. He grinned briefly and she nearly gasped, but, before she could decide whether or not she really had seen that wolfish smile, he was gone. A heartbeat later she felt a rush of movement. Dark shapes seemed to fly by her. The men below her looked horrified as the shadows closed around them. Their screams hurt her ears. Bridget felt overwhelmed by the scent and sight of blood for one long, desperate moment, then fell into blackness.”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“It’s yer wife, Connall! She’ll be the death o’ me, I’m sure. Between the scares with her accidents and—sweet Jesus! Me heart stopped when she tripped up on the stairs in the keep, then again when she tumbled down the chapel steps, and then there’s her shenanigans tonight. I’m sure I’ve aged ten years since she arrived and I’m an old man to begin with.” “All”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Aye, I feared as much,” muttered Mora as she sat down across from Bridget and took a hearty drink of cider. “That big fool. He hasnae completed the mating. Tisnae good. Nay, ’tisnae good at all. Especially if that bitch Edmee finds out.” “Mora, what are ye talking about? The marriage has been consummated. Quite thoroughly.” “Ah, lass, the laird obviously waits to be sure ye have fully accepted him, accepted him for what he is, all that he is. He hasnae given ye the bite yet.” Bridget frowned, not certain she liked the implications of that. “He does bite me.” “Love bites, wee nips, but nay the bite. Being that he is a halfling, mayhap he doesnae have to. I hadnae considered that. Halflings are always different in some way from Purebloods.” After taking a long drink of cider to calm her rising temper, Bridget said, “Tell me, Mora, what ye mean by the mating and the bite. Ye keep starting to tell me, then wander off the subject, and, weel, end up talking more to yourself than to me.” “Pardon. Tis nay widely kenned. Tis one of the MacNachtons’ most closely guarded secrets. I learned of it because, weel, a wee bit o’er twenty years ago I was in love with a Pureblood. Ye ken my son David, aye?” “David is the son of a Pureblood? But he has reddish hair. I have seen him about during the day as weel.” “Aye, he is more our kind than theirs, but the MacNachton blood is in him. He is a strong, healthy lad, always was. And, though he can go about in the daylight, he has to be most careful, avoiding the full heat of the day and such as that. Seems way back in his father’s line one of his ancestors mated with a halfling. The wee added bit of our blood is what has made my David so blessed. The laird has seen that my lad is educated and he will be verra important to the clan. Already is in many ways.” “Can ye tell me who his father is, or is that a secret?” “Jankyn.” Mora laughed briefly at Bridget’s obvious shock, then sighed. “Aye, Jankyn doesnae look a day older than our son, aye? But he is my age. And that was some of the problem. Oh, I did love that lad.” “Jankyn is easy to love, e’en when ye wish ye had a thick stick in hand to clout him o’er the head.” Mora grinned and nodded, then grew serious. “It was both wondrous and awful, heaven and hell. Twas a delight when I was with him and a pure torment when I thought on the years ahead. I could see it as it is now all too clearly, with me as I am and him still looking like a bonnie lad of twenty. Ah, but he said he wished to marry me, and I was sorely tempted. Was near to saying aye when he told me the secret about the mating, about the bite.” Mora nodded when Bridget touched her own neck. “Aye, for ones such as us, ’tisnae just a wee thing, is it? We cannae heal as they can. We arenae as strong. Mayhap I just didnae love him enough. I couldnae do it. My heart, my body, aye. My blood? To let him feed on me, e’en just a wee bit? Nay, I couldnae. E’en when I kenned I carried David, I couldnae, and, being a Pureblood, Jankyn couldnae swear that he wouldnae do it. He couldnae be sure he would be able to stop himself from completing the mating.” “It has to be the neck? He couldnae just take a wee sip from somewhere else?” “Nay, I dinnae think so. Tis like this—when ye are together as mon and wife, just as he spills his seed, he bites ye and has a wee taste.” “Every time?” Bridget asked in alarm, thinking of all the times Cathal had nipped at her neck while they made love. “Wheesht, nay. Just the once.” “Oh, thank God. If ’twas every time, I wouldnae last out the week.” She blushed when Mora laughed heartily. “Aye, the laird does have the fever for ye. Nay, lass, ’tis just the once. Tis done on the wedding night. As the mon gives ye his seed, gives ye a part of him as it were, he takes a wee bit from ye. Tis a blending and ’tis what binds him to ye as a mate.” Bridget”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Despite the odd choice of food, I had decided that the MacNachtons didnae drink blood,” she said. “They dinnae do it verra often. Many, many years ago they werenae so, weel, controlled. When they would go on a hunt, it wasnae always for animals. They fought a lot of battles, too, and were verra savage. Tis said they used to ride out at night to fight or hunt. They must have been a chilling sight with their black cloaks and black horses. They were called the Nightriders.” “Aye, Cathal mentioned something about that once.” “Weel, the name is still whispered from time to time, but it has been so verra long, ’tis little more than a myth now, a tale of the old, frightening times. Their laird put a halt to the harming of people save those like your thieves or enemies of the clan. The Nightriders had become too weel kenned, aye? Too many eyes had turned this way. There were hunts for them and killings done. From then ’til now, the habit of staying within these hills has held fast.” “But”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“A soft noise from the woman on the bed pulled him free of his thoughts. Even as he straightened up to look at her face, her eyes opened. Cathal drew his breath in so sharply he nearly choked. Her eyes were the most beautiful eyes he had ever gazed into. They were an enticing mixture of blue and green, the color growing more dramatic as the haze of unconciousness fled. As”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Oh, God’s toes, you are a stubborn, stupid blasted . . .” Connall found himself smiling as Eva growled and slapped at the bit of wood she was trying to light, as if punishing it for being difficult and he thought with amusement that perhaps being married wouldn’t be so bad. The woman had a tendency to make him smile, something he wasn’t used to, but found he rather liked. He had found himself smiling often while playing chess with her at night, Eva was witty and amusing and . . . well . . . really rather adorable at the moment, disheveled from her work as she was. Pushing the door closed, he crossed the room and dropped to his haunches beside her. “Givin’ ye trouble is it, me lady wife?” “Oh!” she exclaimed, dropping back onto her heels with surprise at what to her must seem a sudden appearance. “You are back.” “Aye,” he agreed, smiling at her. She”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“He perched on the end of the bed like some elegant dark bird. A very beautiful bird, she decided. His looks were similar to the laird’s, their kinship plain to see, but his beauty was far more refined. The color of his eyes was more golden than brown, a little too similar to those of some beast of the forest. He suddenly smiled at her and she tensed. “I saw ye,” she said. “Ye came from out of the hills, from behind me.” “Aye, just as those bastards readied themselves to attack,” replied Jankyn. Images crowded her mind so quickly they made her head ache. “Those men who were chasing me?” “And willnae chase ye again. Their thieving, murdering days are at an end.” She”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“The laird was tall, quite possibly a foot or more taller than she was. He was lean yet she was certain there was an impressive strength beneath his slim elegant appearance. She had seen a hint of it in the way he moved as he had fetched the wine. His hair was a deep black and hung in soft waves several inches past his broad shoulders. His skin was a lot paler than she would have expected in a man with such dark hair. Not a wan, sickly pale, either, but a rich, lovely creamy tone that many a woman would envy. The lines of his face were cleanly cut, elegant perfection from his long, straight nose and high cheekbones to the firm jaw. There was a slight fullness to his lips that she found far too attractive. His eyes were strangely beautiful. Set beneath faintly arched brows, rimmed with enviable long lashes, they were a pale golden brown. He was, without doubt, one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. Feeling”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“She grimaced when Raibeart picked up the hanks of Edmee’s hair and looked at her with a mixture of astonishment and amusement. “Wheesht, lass, ye may be but a wee thing, but ye can be vicious, aye?” Raibeart drawled. “I”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Eva, I am orderin’ ye to go.” “Well, you can order all you bloody like, my lord husband, but I will not leave your side until I get the bleeding stopped,” she snapped and Connall gaped at her, unable to believe his sweet, witty, lovely little bride had spoken to him so. Were wives not supposed to obey their husbands? He was sure he recalled that in the wedding ceremony. “Come,”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Isnae this your bedchamber, m’laird?” “It is,” replied Cathal as he moved to stand by the side of the bed, his hands clasped behind his back. “Then I should be shown to the guest chambers, aye?” “Nay, ye will stay here. Tis best if ye become accustomed to these chambers.” Bridget sat up straighter and glared at him. “And just what do ye mean by that?” She saw a grinning Jankyn move to stand beside Cathal and was briefly distracted by the sight of his teeth. “Do ye file your teeth to get those fangs? I had an uncle who did that. Filed all his front teeth so that they were sharp and pointed. Thought it made him look fierce.” Jankyn scowled at her. “I have no need of such foolish vanities.” Cathal watched her frown and, before she could think too long on Jankyn’s words, he said, “Ye will stay in this bedchamber.” That command pulled Bridget free from her interest in Jankyn’s teeth and she glared at Cathal again. Did he think that, since she owed him her life, she would be willing to warm his bed? The fact that she felt a definite stirring within her blood at the thought made her all the more determined to stand firm against him. “I am the sister of the laird of Dunsmuir,” she began. “Ah, good. Good.” Cathal started toward the door, a chuckling Jankyn close at his heels. That reply made no sense at all, she thought. “Why is that good?” “Tis best if the bride and groom are of an equal standing.” “Bride and groom? What bride and groom? Who is to be married?” “Why, ye are to be married, m’lady. To me.” Bridget was so stunned by his words, the two men were several minutes gone before she could utter a word. She spent several minutes more trying to decide if she had heard him correctly.”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Have ye made her your mate yet?” Cathal looked up from his work to frown at Jankyn even as the man strode across the ledger room to stand before his worktable, his hands on his hips. “Why would ye ask me that?” “I happened to get a good look at your bride’s wee, bonnie neck a week ago as ye fought with Edmee. No mark. We may heal from a bite without a scar, but an Outsider cannae. Your mother wore your father’s mark. Proudly. Do ye nay feel the need or are ye ashamed of it, try to deny it?” “The need is there,” confessed Cathal, “although I had hoped it was one of the MacNachton traits I didnae inherit from my father. As ye ken weel, every halfling is different in what remains, what weakens, and what disappears. I am nay ashamed of it, however. I but worry about how Bridget will react to it. Cowardice has held my tongue, but I must gird my wee loins and tell her soon. The need grows too strong.” Jankyn”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“You look different.” He said nothing, knowing that his face would appear leaner to her, his eyes perhaps taking on more of a yellow tinge in the brown depths. “You are very pale, but . . .” She was obviously trying to puzzle it out, but didn’t understand and was growing frightened and confused. “Aye, nae doubt I am pale. I lost a fair amount o’ blood,” Connall said, wishing he could ease this for her. “Aye.” She nodded slowly and tried to smile, but was having difficulty with it and he knew she could see the hunger in him. “You need food and rest to rebuild it.” “I need blood.” Eva stared at him silently, then her eyes moved back to his wound as if drawn there by some unseen force. He could tell by her expression that it was continuing to heal, growing smaller by the moment. “You heal much more quickly than we do,” she said finally. Her voice was bleak and Connall winced at the knowledge in it. We. She had finally admitted to what was staring her in the face; the supposed reaction to the sun, the rumors, his wound healing so quickly . . . The fact that Aileen aged had probably confused her, but she was seeing it now. You heal more quickly than we. We. He was not one of her kind, at least not wholly. He was different. Connall always had been, and should be used to it by now, but somehow it hurt hearing Eva say it. Her face was expressionless when she turned it back to him to ask, “Are you soulless?” Connall knew that she was making a decision in her mind, one vital to their future. He had feared this moment, but felt hope in the fact that she hadn’t simply turned away in horror. “Nay. I’m no a dead, soulless creature as the rumors proclaim,” he answered solemnly. “I’m jest different.” “But”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
“Cats. The original source of the, er, taint is a wee bit obscure. Twas either brought back by a Crusader or from some ancient Celtic bride, a priestess in the old religion, a shape-shifter.” He shrugged. “Despite what I am, I find that a wee bit difficult to imagine. But, there it is. The Callans appear to have done what ye plan to do—bred it out. There are tales from the old, misty past that hint at some difficulties because of this trait, but the Callans began to be verra particular in their mates. Their family lines are kept meticulously complete right to the most distant of cousins. Intermarriage, no matter how rich the prize, is strictly forbidden for fear that this trait will blossom in its full glory again and pull them all back into danger.” “So, they have bred it out then?” Cathal could understand why Bridget might hide this fact about her clan, but still felt hurt and angry that she would hide it from him. “Most of it. There lingers a hint, though. In the coloring, for example. Twas the medallion that set me on the right path. It reminded me of a tale I had once been told. I found that and soon tracked down the rest. It also explains a lot of things such as how your wife hisses and scratches, how she can run as she does.” “How she purrs,” Cathal whispered. “Does she? How intriguing.” Jankyn met Cathal’s scowl with a sweet smile. “The way she seems to sense danger, her keen eyesight, especially in the dark, and that certain grace she has. All Callan women are rumored to be small, lovely, graceful, passionate, and fertile. Verra, verra fertile. Your wee wife comes from a verra big family.” “Do ye recall the first night she was here? The way she acted when she first awoke?” Jankyn nodded. “Verra like a cat.” “Aye, but for one fleeting moment there was something in her face, something verra catlike.” “Why didnae ye say so?” “I thought it a trick of the light. Now I think not. It also means it might be impossible to breed out all our MacNachton traits. The Callans havenae fully succeeded, have they?” “Would that be such a bad thing? I can think of a few that would only serve us weel and would only raise envy, nay fear.” “True. I suspicion some of the things in the Callan bloodline do the same. The more I think on it, the more I curse myself as a blind fool. Aye, some of what Bridget does could just be considered, weel, a female’s ways. But nay all of them. Certainly nay the way she fought Edmee. I was but stunned when Edmee tossed me aside. Couldnae move, but I could see how Bridget leapt at Edmee. She used those cursed long nails of hers on Edmee and it took Edmee a few moments to get a firm grasp on Bridget. I can now see that the way Bridget moved to try to stay out of Edmee’s grasp was verra like a cat. Then Edmee threw Bridget and, somehow, e’en as she was flying through the air, she curled that wee body of hers into a ball. That and the heather saved her.” “Aye. Raibeart and I were close enough to see that. Raibeart still mutters about it. That and the fact that your wee wife made sure to take a few large hanks of Edmee’s hair with her when she was thrown. Of course, a cat is said to land on its feet. For one wee minute, I truly thought she was about to perform that wondrous feat, but then she curled up into the ball. I wonder why.” “Mayhap when I have finished bellowing at her, I will ask her that question.” He smiled faintly when Jankyn laughed. “So, ye will keep her?” “Aye. E’en when I feared ye were about to tell me she had MacNachton blood, something that would near ruin all my grand plans, I meant to keep her.” He sighed, finished off his wine, then rose to refill his goblet. “I had best send for her, confront her with this, and hear what she has to say for herself.” “No need. I believe I hear the patter of wee paws approaching.” Cathal gave Jankyn a disgusted look as he retook his seat. “I would be wary of teasing her too much. Dinnae forget those nails.” “Cathal?”
― Hannah Howell, quote from The Eternal Highlander
Hannah Howell
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