Highlander's Kiss by Joanne Wadsworth

cloaked them both, whisked them through the open window then out and over the treetops. Cherub soared high and Julia’s heartbeat raced. Never had she traveled like this with her people’s princess before—cloaked and through the air. They soared, like birds in the sky. Far below, the castle became a mere dot of gray amongst the sparkling blues of the loch and the rich greens of the forest.
    “This is incredible.” Excitement shimmered through her, worry too, as well as an abundance of hope. Her parents might truly be alive, and that was the one thought she’d now hold onto. For today and throughout each day of the coming fortnight as they searched.
    Swiftly, Cherub took them even higher, through a layer of puffy white cloud, the air swirling mistily all about. Cherub sped across the loch and along the land toward the east then as they closed in on their destination, she slowly descended. She skimmed a cloying gray fog sitting low over the water then arched up and over the fortified walls of the MacKenzie’s lair and settled on top of the foggy battlements.
    Below their high perch, men trained in battle leathers, dust rising at their feet and mingling with the hazy air. Their claymores crashed, steel ringing loud against steel.
    “Do you hear aught?” Cherub murmured, her hand wrapped tightly around hers as the two of them remained unseen, even to each other.
    “I’ll need a moment to focus. There’s so much noise.” Eyes closed, she deadened the clanging of swords and the screeching of a seagull somewhere out on the water as it sought its catch. Those sounds fell away and with her mind narrowed in on her parents, she held her breath and waited for the gentle hum.
    * * * *
    Palming the hilt of his belted sword, Tavish sat in the chief’s solar with Tor and Finlay as they awaited Kirk’s arrival for their meeting. His heart grew heavier. Leaving Julia behind had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, each step he’d taken from her making his breath come harder. She was his chosen one and of that he had no doubt.
    “You look distressed, brother, and for a man who’s just found his chosen one, you shouldn’t.” Tor closed the front of the armoire that held the chief’s armor and set a battle axe down on the table. He rubbed it clean with a soft cloth then slid the axe into the belt hoop on the opposite side of his hip to his sheathed sword.
    “This mated bond is strong and I’ve a deep need to complete it and ensure I tie Julia to me in every way.”
    “I remember the feeling well, that desperate need to cement the bond.” Finlay motioned toward the armoire. “Help yourself to whatever weapons you too might need, Tavish. Gilleoin would want you to be well armed while here in this time. The enemy lurks everywhere.”
    “I’d appreciate the additional weaponry.” He accepted Finlay’s offer, selected an axe similar to Tor’s and sheathed it at his side.
    “Excuse me.” A knock sounded. “’Tis Layla. I bring refreshments.”
    “Come in, Layla,” Finlay called out. “Refreshments would be most welcome.”
    With a tray of tankards in hand, a young woman with golden spiral tresses and her hair pinned with a crown of pretty red flowers and red and white ribbons fluttering down her back, swished in. “The cook bid me to bring you all some ale and oatcakes.”
    “Give her my thanks.” Finlay shuffled some of the seneschal’s accounts littered across the chief’s large desk to the side. “Leave the tray right there, Layla. Meet my second cousins, Tavish and Tor, both recently arrived from the future.”
    “Aye, word has already spread around the keep that we have newcomers.” She set the tray down then carried a tankard to Tavish, excitement flushing her cheeks. “Is it true? You’re mated to Julia?”
    “It’s very true.” He accepted the earthenware mug and gestured to Tor. “My brother though has yet to meet his chosen one.”
    “Oh, ’tis so wonderful you’re both here to find