Reclaimed (A Highland Historical Trilogy) (The MacKay Banshees 1-3) by Kerrigan Byrne

which still seemed too unsettling a movement for someone so inhuman.
    “Thank yo—”
    The door opened, and Katriona shrank back, too startled to cloak herself in magic.
    Kathryn preceded Rory into the chamber, though both of their gazes skipped right past her and the Faerie Queen.
    “My presence shields us from their notice. They will not see either of us unless I will it,” Cliodnah explained. “This is your mark. The An Dioladh. ”
    Katriona nodded, her words choked off by emotion as her eyes devoured the sight of his grim face.
    “You turned your hatred to love in such a short time.” The Queen conveyed mild amusement in her cold voice.
    “Aye,” Katriona whispered.
    “Such is more common among your kind than you’d believe.”
    Katriona ignored the wry mockery of the Queen as she studied Rory’s new wife. Her fair Anglo coloring must have come from a Teutonic mother, though the dainty sharpness of her beauty was decidedly Gallic. Thick lashes splayed from such lovely cat-like eyes and brushed the sweeping line of her cheek bone every time she gave a coy blink.
    “Shall I undress you, my Laird?” She clasped her hands in front of her, watching Rory expectantly.
    He blanched, then turned to stare at the fire.
    At Katriona.
    Or through her, rather. She wondered if he could feel the presence of her soul. If he could sense the pain and the love emanating from her.
    Gods, this was torture. She should leave. This wasn’t a memory she wanted to taint her eternity with. Rory with another woman in his arms.
    In his bed.
    “Kathryn,” Rory hesitated, his big hands balled at his side. “I know coming here has to be a shock to ye. A new home, a new clan, a stranger for a husband. I’m amenable to letting ye adjust to yer life as mistress of this clan before…” He gestured to the bed and a deep red hue crept beneath his bronzed skin.
    Aye! Not tonight. Not when his bed was still warm from their own love-making.
    “That’s kind of ye, husband, but in truth, ye have what I want and I’d like it tonight.” Kathryn smiled shyly, which enhanced her unnatural beauty.
    Katriona wanted to rearrange the features of her face, if only a little.
    Rory’s eyes flew wide and all the new color drained from his face and he sputtered for words but was ultimately unable to find any.
    Katriona’s eyes narrowed. Perhaps more than a little. Perhaps a great deal.
    Cliodnah made a musical sound of amusement. “Jealousy. Now that’s an emotion the Fae know quite well.”
    Kathryn sidled closer to Rory, who stood as though paralyzed. “Now, my Laird, let me make this easier for both of us.” She reached out and undid his sword belt with deft, elegant fingers, easing it from his lean hips with practiced ease.
    Rory grimaced and Katriona took comfort in his obvious discomfiture. He didn’t want this golden paragon. He loved her.
    Next his tartan was released from his shoulders, and then his loose, billowing shirt until the burnished expanse of his torso impressed more than the woman he knew stood watching.
    “Oh my…” The Queen breathed behind her. “Now this is interesting.”
    Katriona turned to beg Cliodnah to take her away, but something stopped her. Perhaps it was a calculating brightness in Kathryn’s normally gentle, somewhat vacant expression. Or the way her heart-shaped lips formed soundless words behind Rory’s back.
    “I have something for you,” Kathryn’s sweet conversational voice grated on Katriona’s nerves.
    She really couldn’t watch this, nor could she look away.
    “I had wine brought.” Kathryn’s eyes gleamed with feminine appreciation as she circled Rory and then turned toward the door. “A special vintage.”
    Katriona’s fingers curled until her nails turned into claws.
    “ Sit down and do not move, ” Kathryn ordered in a voice much darker than before.
    Rory abruptly sank to the bed, his arms locked to his sides. His expression of apprehension instantly turned to alarm.
    “What is