LITMIR.BIZ

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

       Also by Brenda Joyce

      The Masters of Time ^®

      DARK SEDUCTION

       The de Warenne Dynasty

      THE PERFECT BRIDE

      A LADY AT LAST

      THE STOLEN BRIDE

      THE MASQUERADE

      THE PRIZE

       The Deadly Series

      DEADLY KISSES

      DEADLY ILLUSIONS

      A DANGEROUS LOVE

       PROLOGUE

       Long ago, somewhere in the Kingdom of the Picts

      TODAY HE WOULD DIE. He did not care, even though he was but three and twenty. For he would not die alone.

      He stood on the ridge amidst oak and pine, panting like a hunting hound, sweat pouring down his body. He had been hunting Kael for two endless weeks, ignoring all advice, all counsel and every warning. Now Kael was within the fortress on the other side of the glen, atop the adjacent ridge. He did not have to see him to know. He felt his black power.

      But he could not sense Brigdhe, his bride.

      Pushing tendrils of gold hair from his face, he started down the ridge, his strides long, determined. His linen tunic stuck to his young, hard body, soaking wet, clinging there. His longsword bumped his thigh with every step. He left the security of the tree line, and saw men gathering on the wooden watchtowers, which were spaced evenly about the palisades. A horn blew. He smiled. Let them shout a warning!

      He reached the barred doors of the fortified manor and did not hesitate, although he was new to his powers. He had been summoned to Iona six months ago by his father’s friend, MacNeil. He hadn’t understood then what a summons by an abbot to a monastery had to do with him. But he had quickly learned that he hadn’t been summoned by a true abbot, and that there was far more than a monastery on the island.

      He’d been aware for most of his life that he was stronger, more virile and more sexual than other men. His intellect was sharper, his sense of danger far more acute. And physically, he was at least a head taller than his friends.

      When he made his vows to old gods he hadn’t paid attention to until the choosing, swearing to protect Innocence through all time, suddenly his powers were released. He remained unsure of just how strong he was, but nothing would stop him now. He reached for the bolted doors, each one as tall as two men and as wide as a warhorse. He ripped them off their iron hinges.

      Above him, on the towers, the men shouted in alarm.

      Arrows rained down on him. One pierced his skin and stung. Another went deeper, embedding itself in his flesh. He ripped it out, feeling no pain.

      He collected his mind and instinctively put his power around him like a shield, never breaking stride, heading for the largest of the buildings in the fort. The arrows fell uselessly around him now.

      A dozen giants rushed him, carrying lances and leather shields. They were human, but evil possessed them.

      He kept walking, drawing his sword. Metal hissed.

      The giants rushed him, throwing their spears all at once.

      He found more power and thrust it boldly at his assailants; the giants fell as if pushed by huge winds, their spears falling backward, past them.

      He lunged up the steps and into the darkened hall.

      Kael faced him.

      But he saw only Brigdhe, lying naked on the rug before the fire, her long red-gold hair streaming about her slender body, her hands bound. He faltered.

      She turned her head listlessly and looked at him. Her eyes widened—and then he saw the accusation on her face.

      The blow took him by surprise, sending him flying backward. He landed hard on his back by the door, but did not drop his sword. As Kael’s sword descended, Brigdhe’s accusatory expression remained engraved on his mind, and with it, so much horror arose in his heart. Instead of parrying the blow, his own weapon yielded uselessly and Kael’s blade rent his shoulder, all the way through muscle and bone.

      He forgot his bride. He rolled away as Kael blasted him with more energy, the second blow as stunning as the first. He was not used to men fighting this way. Pushed against the wall, he felt Kael’s sword coming, and this time, he struck upward with his blade, blindly, by sheer instinct.

      Steel met steel. Metal screeched, rang. He leapt to his feet, bleeding heavily. Kael thrust more power at him.

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