Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5) Read Free Page B

hearth sat in the opposite corner. Torra eyed the way a tunnel of wood had been built just above the fire up to a small hole in the ceiling to release smoke.
    Iosbail winked at her as they walked. “‘Tis a good way to keep the smoke from filling the hall.”
    No doubt. Torra couldn’t help but smile. In this, Iosbail had beaten out Adlin’s grandson, Iain MacLomain with his similar way of using stone to do the same. But she imagined Adlin and Iosbail had long been competing with such small, albeit ingenious inventions within their clans.
    Torra looked down on the great hall as they walked across the first landing. The tapestries were all nautical in design. It seemed Iosbail liked the water. About ten long trestle tables were already being covered with food and drink. Fresh rushes had been laid and fifty or so torches burned.
    They didn’t go far before Iosbail started ushering the others into their chambers. The Broun wizard then led Torra up a winding set of stairs into one of only four towers in the castle. But towers were her usual place of residence so she wasn’t overly surprised.
    As if Iosbail sensed her line of thinking she finally stopped at the door to a small chamber. “‘Tis best, is it not, that you are separate from the others?”
    Since she’d been twelve winter’s old she had been separate from everyone so understood. Did it make it any easier? Nay. “It seems you think so, Iosbail and are you not in charge of this clan?”
    Iosbail’s blue eyes met hers not with sympathy but sternness. “Dinnae seek compassion from me, lass. I love ye good and true as ye are my kin.” Her eyes narrowed a scant fraction. “But till we’ve more time to know one another better ye’ll stay where I can keep a close eye on ye, aye?”
    Torra gave a sharp nod. “Aye.”
    Where Adlin MacLomain was one sort of person, his sister was another entirely. Not that she was bad, certainly not, just far more cautious. Her life had led her down a different path. Where Adlin was quick to smile and joke, his sister was quick to be rambunctious and not mean nearly half of what came from her mouth…including the laughter. Was she inherently kind? Absolutely. Was she also angry at something in her past? Aye.
    Torra watched Iosbail walk away. A truly beautiful woman, her long wavy black hair was glorious. Very few were as exquisite as Adlin’s sister. Yet she’d never acted vain. If anything, the Broun matriarch seemed more focused on practicality and whatever else plagued her magical conscience. She didn’t entirely blame Iosbail for her caution and mayhap even trepidation.
    After all, Torra was part dragon.
    The magic burning within her was something undefinable to most…even those with powerful magic. And now because she’d looked inside Torra’s mind, Iosbail had a much better understanding of the part she herself would play. A part that was so important it would make all of this possible.
    Still, it was hard seeing someone she’d come to care so much for treat her so distantly.
    Swallowing hard, Torra turned to a chamber not all that different from the one she’d had at the MacLomain castle. Comfortable with one window, a hearth and bed, a tub of steaming water lay waiting as well as a dress. Three torches lit the room as she removed her clothes and slid into the tub.
    Yet even as she sunk into the warm water she knew she wouldn’t stay there long.
    Could not.
    Fire already sizzled beneath her skin. A fire she had long ago tempered.
    But mayhap that was the problem. She’d spent ten winters keeping the beast at bay and now it had been freed. Now she knew what it was to spread her wings and fly. Torra leaned her head back against the basin and flexed her hands over the edge of the tub. For a moment, it seemed as though she flexed not her hands over the cool surface but her wings over the frigid air of the Atlantic.
    For a split second, she flew over the whole of Scotland and felt the icy wind of the North Sea. Then