Highland Mist by Donna Grant

me…things.”
    “What things?” he prompted.
    She glanced warily at him. “Does it matter?” After a moment’s silence she continued. “I only saw her for about four hours a day and guards were always in the chamber with us. I asked her several times why she had been taken.”
    “Well? What was her response?” he asked more harshly than he intended.
    “That it was her destiny.”
    “St. Christopher,” Conall growled, and stood to pace some of his energy off. “Go on.”
    “One day she didn’t come. When I asked the MacNeil, he said I no longer needed Iona. I never found out what happened to her.”
    Conall’s heart squeezed painfully and his feet stopped in their tracks. He had pinned all his hopes on Glenna giving him the answers he needed. He didn’t know where to go from here.
    She turned and looked into his eyes. “I didn’t know she was your sister.”
    Now he knew why he stopped himself from kissing her. Deep down he had known she knew something, was somehow involved with Iona’s disappearance.
    He had to get away from Glenna. “I need to get back to the castle.”
    With a heavy heart, he started up the steep path and didn’t wait on her to follow. Part of him wanted her to run so he wouldn’t have to keep her around, reminding him of what he couldn’t have. But the other half…desperately wanted her to follow. That part of him needed her as he had never needed another person, and it scared him.
    How could that be possible? I don’t really know her.
    You do know her.
    Conall stopped and looked over the loch. It had been Iona’s favorite place, other than the stone circle. Nay. He couldn’t let Glenna go free. She was his prisoner. His.
    Mine .
    He turned and saw her still sitting on the rock, looking out over the calm loch.
    “Glenna.”
    She twisted and gazed at him with haunted eyes. She still kept something from him, of that he was sure. “Come,” he ordered.
    He waited until she neared before he continued up the path. If something had happened to Iona, if she was dead, he had to decide what he would do with Glenna. Sending her back to the MacNeil wasn’t a possibility.
    But neither could he allow her to live here. As it was, if she stayed near him another minute he would give in to the temptation and taste her lips, her skin, her soul.
    Once they entered the gates and reached the castle doors, he told her, “Go to your chamber until I send for you.”
    It was the only thing that would keep her safe from his desire. That and the knowledge she was a Druid, a MacNeil. That in itself should be enough, but his rod had been hard since that first contact in the water.
    “She told you.”
    Conall raised his eyes to find Gregor standing in front of him. “Aye.”
    “Is that all she told you?” Gregor asked, eyes hard and arms crossed over his chest.
    Conall narrowed his eyes. Whatever Glenna continued to keep from him, Gregor knew also. “I know she’s hiding something from me. I haven’t asked what, but I don’t think she’ll tell me as easily as she told me of Iona.”
    “And after all those questions you still aren’t closer to knowing anything, are you?”
    “Tell me, Gregor. Just how long were you at the MacNeil’s?”
    “Too long,” he answered, his eyes never wavering. “I don’t have a clan. I’m a mercenary. Hired out to whoever pays the most. Have I answered all your questions yet?”
    “Why is it MacNeil soldiers didn’t know who you were? One was about to kill you.”
    “I was rarely there, and then only a select few knew of my comings and goings.”
    “Just what were you hired to do?”
    Gregor’s black eyes turned a shade darker. His jaw clenched. “Gain your trust. Take over your castle and clan.”
    Conall drew his sword and pointed the tip at Gregor’s throat. All the men in the hall armed themselves, waiting for a word from him.
    To give Gregor credit he didn’t blink at the sword pressed into his neck. “Go ahead, Conall. It would be a relief to