Forbidden Highlander Read Free

would he and his brothers hide away like ghosts. It was time to take a stand, and if others discovered what they were and tried to harm them, then they risked their own lives.
    Fallon ran a hand over his jaw as he hungered for a taste of wine, anything to help dull the ache of desire in his loins. If James VI were in residence here instead of England, Fallon might be able to return to the castle soon. As it was, Scotland’s king preferred to live in England and rule both countries from there.
    The rumor that James was on his way to Scotland was just that, a rumor, but Fallon needed to discover if it was true or not.
    There wasn’t time to travel to London and seek an audience, despite his power to travel many leagues in the blink of an eye. Fallon could only use his power to “jump” to places he had been before. Since he had never been to London, he could end up in a field or with half his body in a wall.
    Fallon would give himself the rest of the day to learn if the king was indeed coming to Edinburgh. If so, then he would stay. If not, Fallon would return to MacLeod Castle and talk with Lucan about whether they could take the time for Fallon to travel to London.
    Despite the king’s absence, Edinburgh Castle still teemed with nobility and people seeking to exchange favors with powerful lords. Maybe Iver had been correct and people were converging on the castle because the king was coming.
    Fallon remembered vividly the day his father had brought him to Edinburgh. It had been just a year prior to the massacre, and his father had wanted to introduce him to the king and the nobility as the future laird of the MacLeods.
    Da had told him often that it was in his best interest to know everyone, especially if they influenced the king in any way. It didn’t mean Fallon had to support them, but a laird needed to know the ins and outs of nobility and royalty to keep the clan safe.
    His father had been correct. It was too bad no one had known about the beautiful, evil
drough
who would destroy everything just a year later.
    Disgusted with himself, his lust, and the hand fate had dealt him, Fallon turned on his heel and left the hall. He couldn’t stand the crush of people or the stench of sweat that hung in the air. He missed the view from the towers of his castle where he could watch the waves crash into the cliffs and listen to the birds squawking and flying with the air currents.
    He made it back to his chamber, a cold sweat running down his face as he leaned against the closed door inside his room. His hands shook, but in the solitude of his chamber, he didn’t hide them.
    His gaze landed on the bottle of wine he kept near him always, to remind him of what he had ignored, of what he had almost lost, and the war he had before him.
    Lucan had shouldered the brunt of the responsibility while Fallon had sunk into the oblivion of the wine day in and day out. It was Lucan who had dealt with Quinn’s rages, it was Lucan who had mended and cleaned the castle to make it habitable. As eldest, Fallon should have been the one who had seen to all those things.
    Fallon had neglected his brothers. Quinn, who had lost his wife and son in the slaughter of their clan, hadn’t been able to control his anger, which fueled the god inside him. It was rare that some part of the Warrior didn’t show on Quinn. He couldn’t manage his wrath, and so couldn’t command the god at will.
    Instead of helping his brothers, Fallon had ignored them, intent on his own pain, his own fury.
    Fallon stumbled to the table and gripped the wine in his unsteady hand. His father would be ashamed of him. He hadn’t been the leader his father had told him he was, had trained him to be. Fallon had been a coward afraid of facing the truth of his future and learning how to control the god as Lucan had.
    Except now he had a chance to redeem himself.
    After several moments as Fallon battled with himself, he released the wine and pushed from the table. His castle was