A special preview from the final book in the Guardians of the Isles series,
Taming the Highland Beauty

The laughter of Clan MacLeod drifted through the salt-laden air as Gille looked on from the back of the crowd gathered to welcome Rosalyn and Keiran home from whatever adventure they had been on for the past two days. Gille smiled as she caught a glimpse of Rosalyn and Keiran emerging from the old keep, unharmed. These two had overcome so many obstacles, even death, to be together in this life.

With her next breath, a pang of longing pierced her. How she craved to belong to a family as Rosalyn now did, as Aria had before her. Perhaps, there was hope for Gille in the future to be a part of a clan like the MacLeods.

Suddenly, a cold hand clamped over her shoulder. Gille gasped, whirling around to find Oberon, his face twisted in a cruel smile. “Enjoying the festivities, little traitor?” His voice dripped with amusement.

Panic flooded Gille as memories of her attempt to destroy the fairy king in Fairyland flashed before her. “Your Majesty. I meant you no harm,” she stammered.

“No harm?” Oberon tilted his head, searching her face. “You sought to kill me. You sent me into the shadow realm.” He raised his hand, and a malevolent green light pulsed from his fingertips. Pain flared in Gille’s chest. A coiling sensation tightened around her heart. Frantically, she looked at the others. To see if anyone noticed Oberon’s presence. But they all simply laughed and talked to each other as though nothing untoward was happening in their presence.

“They cannot see you. Not any longer,” Oberon said with an evil smile. “Since you almost destroyed me, I will curse you, Gille. You shall live the rest of your days alone in the woodlands of the human realm,” Oberon declared. “The joy you so desperately crave shall forever remain just beyond your grasp.”

“Nay,” Gille cried out.

“Since I am not a monster, I will allow you to leave the woodlands for a short time—seven days, but no longer—just long enough for you to remember what you are missing. If you do not make it back to the forest before sunset on the seventh day, you will turn into a tree.” The light intensified, tendrils of it wrapping around Gille, tearing at the very fabric of her being. Then as abruptly as it began, it was over.

Gille slumped to the ground at the base of an old, moss-covered beech tree, finding herself not at Dunvegan, but in the woodlands beyond. She could still hear laughter coming from the castle, but it now sounded like a distant, mocking echo. She was truly alone, condemned to wander the woodlands, yearning for a happiness that could never be hers.