The Highlander: An Order Series Novelette (The Order Book 2) by Kasia Bacon

Author:Kasia Bacon [Bacon, Kasia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Kasia Bacon
Published: 2017-08-30T18:30:00+00:00

It seemed the line, “Féyes, the white-haired Highlander is looking for you,” had turned into a catchy chorus I couldn’t help but hear all over the camp.

As much as I attempted to refrain from doing anything predictable, Freeday evening saw me heading south and climbing the steep slope leading to the hilltop I often visited. Something about that place centred me, and I needed to put my thoughts in order before the nightwatch commenced.

I didn’t get to enjoy the sunset this time, though.

Several hundred paces in, the patch of skin at the top of my spine tingled with the unmistakable feeling of being followed. I continued to walk, pinning my ears back. Whoever sneaked up behind me either didn’t bother being subtle about it or made a shit stalker.

Around the next bend, I glued my back against the rocky side of the hill and froze.

Twigs snapped. Leaves rustled. The ragged breathing drew near, one incautious step after another.

Three heartbeats later, I had the hapless assailant nailed against a larch tree, my left forearm locked under his chin, my right secured across his chest.

The fucker was smaller than I’d anticipated. Way bustier, too.

A light lily-of-the-valley fragrance encompassed me. The scent I remembered.

The Northern archer girl, Aryhana.

Short-winded, she peered up at me, her pupils blown. Otherwise, she hardly flinched at the manhandling.

“Fast and rough. That’s not how I remember our last time,” she said in a strained voice.

Heat doused my cheeks.

Her laugh had a throaty tone to it. “It wasn’t a criticism, Lochan.”

You arse remained kindly unsaid.

More warmth flowed into my neck and face at the realisation that my hands still lingered over her throat and breasts. I released her.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’ll all be leaving soon. I thought I’d say goodbye.” Her eyes shone green as she rose onto her tiptoes.

I knew her lips would taste of cherries, sweet and beguiling, before she rested them on mine. I knew because I’d sampled them before.

She was warm. Slim and muscled, but soft where it mattered. Willing.

Just like the other time.

Gently, I pulled away. “I can’t.”

“Why not? I like you.” Her face tightened. “We’ve done it once before.”

That we had. Almost a year ago, mere days into the training. I couldn’t sleep; the mead hadn’t worked and not for want of trying. I’d walked upon her sitting by the campfire in the half-light, during the quiet time preceding sunrise. We shouldn’t have gone there, she and I. Not my proudest moment, regardless of how clumsily comforting that encounter ended up being. Aryhana had been a new recruit, homesick and scared of not fitting in. I, on the other hand, had been drunk and in one of my unsettled moods. My return to the Elven Country had ruffled me more than I’d expected and cared to acknowledge.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

One corner of her mouth trembled, and her gaze became glassy.

I fought back the panic. Ironic, how I had no trouble wringing necks, yet the tears of a pretty girl jangled my nerves. The

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