Wicked Highlander Read Free

into the gaping darkness below her.
    Deirdre wasn’t worried that Marcail might get free. Her Warriors loved a good show, and they wouldn’t be denied.
    She wanted to watch what Quinn and the others would do to the Druid, but she knew the anticipation of seeing Quinn would make their joining that much better.
    Deirdre turned her back on the Pit and the shouts and whistles of the Warriors. She headed toward her chamber so she could dream about Quinn. Already her body throbbed for his touch.
    But it wouldn’t be long now. He was succumbing to what the Pit was best for—beating away hope. Just a few more weeks and he would be hers.
    Â 
    Isla, hidden high above Deirdre in the shadows, gazed at the action below her with interest. As one of the few Druids who hadn’t been killed, Isla was interested in what made Deirdre stay her hand with this newest Druid—Marcail.
    It hadn’t taken Isla long to discover that Marcail had buried in her mind the spell that would bind the gods in the Warriors.
    That alone was what prompted Deirdre to have Dunmore, her mortal huntsman, seek out Marcail. It had taken Dunmore much longer than Deirdre had expected to bring Marcail to the mountain.
    Isla had observed Druid after Druid die beneath Deirdre’s magic. Deirdre enjoyed spilling a Druid’s blood since it gave her magic added power, but she usuallypreferred to do it in her special chamber where she could be sure no magic escaped. Isla had sensed Marcail’s potent magic as soon as the Druid had entered the mountain, so why then had Deirdre gathered everyone in the cavern?
    No sooner had that thought crossed Isla’s mind than the Warriors hauled Marcail to the entrance of the Pit. Isla’s fingers dug into the stones, causing her nails to bend backward. She didn’t feel the blood oozing from the sensitive skin beneath her nails as she watched Marcail fall into the Pit.
    She gazed into the Pit, waiting for the Warriors to pounce on Marcail and tear her to shreds as they normally did anything that had the misfortune to be thrown into the darkness. Isla glanced at the place Deirdre had been only to find her gone.
    When Isla turned her attention back to the Pit, she saw a black-skinned Warrior leap on top of Marcail. Isla had never figured Quinn MacLeod would give in to his god so easily. After everything she had heard of the MacLeod brothers, she was disappointed.
    She began to turn away when she saw Quinn toss something out of the way, something that looked suspiciously like the body of a woman.
    A slow smile spread on Isla’s face.

Two
    The scream lodged in Marcail’s throat as the floor slanted under her feet. She was falling. Into the Pit.
    Stay strong. Focus. Think!
    Her body hit the stone with a loud smack, and she scrambled to hold on to the sloping rock. She ignored the pain throughout her body and concentrated on not falling. Her fingers kept slipping on the smooth stone, the darkness rising up to meet her faster and faster with the lowering of the door.
    Then, thank the saints, she found a handhold. She held on for dear life, her fingers aching with the effort. She wanted just a moment to get her bearings before she clawed her way back out.
    But she should have known better.
    She had forgotten the Warriors and wyrran surrounding her. Too late she saw the Warrior come at her out of the corner of her eye. His foot connected with her ribs, the pain sharp and terrible.
    Her fingers released their hold at the same time her brain screamed at her not to let go.
    And then she was falling.
    She hit the ground on her side with a thud that left her dazed and her head spinning. She didn’t move, afraid of the aches she would find. Seconds ticked byas the crowd above her shouted and roared their excitement. What did they know that she did not?
    Then she heard it.
    She wasn’t alone in the darkness.
    Marcail pushed past the hurt of her body and rose up on an elbow to peer into the