Oh god. That was so long ago.
And this was now.
Happening. In truth.
She barely breathed, studying the stones that stood like silent sentinels on the hill crest.
Again, she heard movement. And this time she cried out in fear.
The shadow was definitely no figment of her imagination. A caped figure was now running directly toward her.
The night had been so still.When he first heard the cries, he thought that they were whispers of the rising wind. Then he heard them more clearly.
And he saw the woman running from the shelter of the Druid Stones. Saw her clearly, for the moon chose that moment to break free from the clouds and cast a shimmering glow of light down upon her.
She was dressed in ivory cotton and lace, a gown appearing soft and fragile as it flowed behind her on the wind. Like the sheer gown caught on the wind, waves of ebony hair were caught in a banner flow as she ran. She was fleet and agile, running barefoot across the terrain with the grace of a gazelle. She appeared like an ancient wood nymph, a sprite, seductively magical in the mist beneath the moon, that dark hair of hers, appearing blacker than midnight, floating in her wake, rich, wild, as full of a cloak about her shoulders as the soft knit shawl that covered the soft cotton of her gown.
Dear god. Shawna.
Aye, Shawna.
Come to him already…
It seemed that every muscle within his body went suddenly tense, as if a fire, liquid and wickedly hot, ignited within his limbs at the very sight of her.
How often had he dreamed of seeing her again. Of the fury he would feel. Of the longing to reach out and shake her.
Or just touch her. For it seemed that even now, just the sight of her awoke in him a passion that was fueled by both fury…and hunger.
Shawna…
He would not be swayed by emotion. He would be as hard and steadfast in his purpose as the rock with which the castles had been built.
Yet, she came to him still. Here.
How damned curious.
Then he saw that she was being…chased.
Chased!
Indeed, from the stones burst forth another figure, tall, caped, features hidden beneath a cowl.
What in God’s name…
He’d be damned if any other man was going to get his hands on the girl. Not when he’d come back from hell itself for his own vengeance.
He crouched instinctively at the water’s edge.
And he watched.
And waited…
This is madness.
She’d lived here almost all her life. She was the lady here. She knew not just every soul who resided in their wild hills and valleys, but knew their life histories as well.
Yet she was being chased.