Alex was floating…weeeel, if a man could do so. He couldn’t stop smiling. All he could do was nod and broaden his grin at the odd looks he was getting because of it. Aye, his mood had improved, so it was no wonder all the MacLeods were noticing.
He hadn’t even complained to Hamish about his latest round of demanding scrolls. Alex chuckled. He’d almost suggested the steward scrape his jaw from the floor of his ledger room when presented with his time-consuming task that morning. He might’ve allowed the tease if the man wouldn’t have been offended—and likely complain to his da.
Instead of Alex’s usual grumbling, he’d cheerfully received the duty; even thanked the old man. Hamish had looked at him as if he’d gone mad.
“Alex?” Duncan had his head cocked to one side, his long hair dangling at the same angle, and a hand resting on one hip as he regarded him from the entrance of his ledger room.
He smiled for his twin and leaned back, resting the quill next to the now needed-to-be-refilled inkwell in front of him. He’d just finished his last required signature and rolled the scroll back up. He still needed to affix wax and the MacLeod seal. “Afternoon, brother.” Alex threw him a nod.
“Uh…”
“Have a seat.” He gestured to the usual chair Duncan occupied.
That froze his brother about ten feet from his desk.
“What’s go’ inta ye this time?”
Alex just grinned.
Duncan narrowed his eyes. “What’ve ye done wit’ my brother?”
He chuckled and put up a beckoning hand. “Come, join me. I’ve jus’ finished here.”
His twin made no moves. Just stared, his mouth half-agape.
That made Alex laugh harder. “Ah, usually I’m tha more suspicionin’ of tha two a’us.”
“Aye,” Duncan said slowly. “But I see nothin’ usual ‘bout tha way yer actin’.”
“What? I canna be happy?”
“My brother? Nay.” He shook his head. “Did Bán toss ye on yer arse…nay, more like yer head?”
“Nay.”
“‘Tis yer lass, then? Yer princess?”
He could only beam like an idiot.
Duncan rolled his eyes, looking very much like their younger sister.
“Come, come, I’ve news.”
His brother’s gaze was still much too wary as he lifted the chair and planted it alongside the desk like he always did, and the expression didn’t fade as he folded his big body to sit. He crossed his arms over his chest and hunched his broad shoulders.
“Ye look as if yer bracin’ fer bad news.” Alex tried not to frown. He wouldn’t let his twin dim his good mood. He was to meet Alana that night, and he was going to press her about their marriage.
Where didn’t matter, as long as it was soon.
“Should I be?” Duncan asked, still studying him.
The back of his mind whispered she wasn’t free from the Fae prince—an Irish bastard no less—who held her captive by a false agreement, but he tried not to focus on that. Part of Alex called himself a fool. She’d told him her plight and explained if she ran away permanently, his life—and all the lives of his clan—would be in grave danger.
Her gorgeous violet eyes had been filled with such fear when she’d spoken those words. Even if that hadn’t been the case, he would’ve believed her, but that genuine terror had rocked him—at the time. But she loved him.
Alex loved her, too. Wanted to have her as his wife. Would have her.
She was his.
He’d spoken the truth that he wasn’t afraid to fight, but what would that really cost? He growled and pushed those thoughts away.
They loved each other, and they’d be together.
Alana believed them fated, or so she’d told him. So it had to be true, right?
The strength of his draw to her couldn’t be explained any other way. How she’d felt in his arms had been unmatched by any other lover—another sign that his love, his heart, had been correct. They were supposed to be together.
Damn the Irish prince and his threats.
Alex would have Alana as his own. Soon.
She’d never belong to another.
“Alex?” Duncan prompted softly.
He’d taken too long to speak. “Nay, no’ bad news. Only tha best kind of news.”
“Oh?”
“I’m ta be wed.”
His twin sputtered and pushed back in the chair until two of the legs rocked off the floor, and slammed into the stone with heavy thunks. “What?” he gasped.
Alex tried to convince himself not to be offended. “Aye. I’ve asked Alana ta be my wife and she’s agreed.” He didn’t need to go into anything more…at the moment. Guilt niggled. He should tell his brother the whole truth.
He didn’t doubt the dangers to their clan. He just cared more about making his princess belong to him officially than he was worried about Fae Warriors—as she called them—coming out of the shadows.
That voice again whispered, this time calling him selfish.
Is that true? Am I?
“Are ye mad?” Duncan’s question was half-bark, half filled with almost wonder.
As if his twin did think his mind had fled.
Alex frowned. After all his brother’s demands to meet her, his reaction wasn’t what he’d expected. “Mad? Nay. I’ve ne’er been clearer. More sure of anythin’.”
“Ye can’t wed a lass none of us have met, Alex. Nor a lass Da dinna approve. Ye canna have jus’ any match, brother. Yer tha laird. Ye’ve responsibilities. All tha’, a’ course, leavin’ off the mention of her bein’ Fae.”
He reared back. “So, ye still dinna believe me?”
“I…”
“What happened ta all tha demands ta meet her? Ye dinna doubt then!”
“‘Tisna like tha’. Alex—”
“Dinna, ‘Alex’ me, little brother.” He scowled. His mood dipped and Alex wanted to grab his brother and shake him. Of all people, he needed his twin on his side.
Needed his support.
“An’ I ne’er said I’d wed withou’ her meetin’ Mother, Da, and Janey. She canna always come here, an’ I—”
“Bein’ tha laird dinna give ye freedom ta wed whoe’er ye like, an’ ye know tha’. Da ‘twill have a say.”
Alex glowered. “I am tha laird, as ye say. Bein’ such, I will wed who I want.” He put his fists on the surface of the desk to resist the urge to plant one in Duncan’s face. He rose up, and his brother’s gaze followed, looking up at him.
His twin remained seated.
Good.
“Alex—”
“As laird, ‘tis my duty ta find matches fer my siblings, as weel.”
Duncan frowned.
“I can match ye wit’ who I see fit. Janey, too.”
“Dinna threaten me, Alex MacLeod.” His brother re-crossed his arms over his chest and stared him down. “Yer no’ listenin’ ta me.”
“What’s ta listen ta? I’m ta be wed. There’s nothin’ more ta say on tha matter.”
“What’s this nonsense?” Their father’s boom had Alex’s eyes shooting to the doorway of his ledger room. The older man stood there with Janet.
Damn, his brother hadn’t closed the door when he’d come in.
He swallowed but wasn’t about to squirm. He was a man, and he was the laird.
“Da—” Duncan gasped—much like he had earlier with Alex’s declaration. He scrambled to his feet as if they’d been caught in mischief. His twin paled a little, but he didn’t pay it any mind.
“Yer ta be wed?” His sister asked as father and daughter slid into the room and Janet closed the door.
Their father’s bushy eyebrows were as high as they could physically go without jumping off his face. His blue stare never wavered from Alex’s.
He squared his shoulders and nodded. “Aye.” He’d planned to tell the rest of his family about Alana. It wasn’t like he could keep their upcoming nuptials a secret forever.
Might as well be now.
His father was always touting the Fae were real…Alex was about to confirm it.
“Ta whom?” Iain demanded.
“How could I not have known?” Alana plastered both hands to her lower still-flat stomach. Her body had betrayed her.
Her hands, her arms, her spine, even her legs trembled, although Xander had lifted her and carried her to her bed as soon as Seamus had stormed from her suite with more dark vows.
The prince had been so angry his face had been the same color of his glowing red medallion, but he’d not stated what move he’d planned next. He’d just…left.
Xander had asked if she should go after him, but she hadn’t wanted to.
Then, or now.
She was reeling with news she should’ve been able to sense.
Alana sat up against her pillows, but the softness behind her might as well have been an abrasive surface. Her back was scepter-straight, and her chest was tight, her heart still pounding against her ribs. Breathing was labored, too. She had to concentrate to get air down.
Chaos reigned, taking over her mind and jarring her like her quivering form.
I’m carrying a child.
Alex’s child.
Hope, love and joy bloomed, only to be quashed when her bodyguard spoke.
“You have bigger things to worry about than that.” Her cousin shook his head, his frown so deep it jolted her to the edge of the bed. His wings vibrated, and his wide shoulders held a fine tremor, too.
He was scared, and that rocked her to her core.
The strong Fae Warrior was like a rock most of the time. Xander didn’t scare.
Any Fae would kill her child on site. Some—like Seamus, evidently—could sense pregnancy with the barest touch, and it was said her race could smell human blood. Maybe some could, she never had.
As the Crown Princess, she was always around members of the Scottish Court with great magic, and talents usually varied vastly. Being pregnant with Alex’s child could get her killed if other Fae could also sense mixed parentage within her.
Not to mention the unwed-Crown-Princess-reality.
Even if she could pass the child off as her betrothed’s, she and Seamus would be frowned upon. That wouldn’t help the situation anyway; her father would no doubt demand their nuptials take place immediately to cover the impropriety.
Fae could be promiscuous before marriage, but procreation was for after the vows. Young Fae were supposed to be careful, and Alana didn’t exactly have youth to use an excuse, she’d long since shed girlhood. She’d never thought to be careful with Alex, even if she had knowledge of Fae blood in the MacLeod line. She didn’t have a justification; she’d simply let her feelings and passion for the human laird to carry away her sense.
Alana shuddered.
In any case, the prince would never agree to claim Alex’s babe, even if they could get away with the half-human issue. He’d been too angry.
At birth, it would be obvious to anyone in her realm that her child wasn’t pure Fae.
Death sentence.
She told herself to breathe in and out. “How could Seamus be the one to discover—”
“Alana.”
Her name was all warning, and her gaze flew to Xander’s. “You’re carrying a child.”
“Aye, I am aware.” She tried to keep her voice wry, but his tight expression held real fear, and ice slid down her spine.
“Are you?” He cocked his head to one side, narrowing his violet eyes.
Her heart skipped. “Of course. What—”
“A child who is half human.”
“Xander—”
“Your life has never been in graver danger.”
Alana fought convulsions and didn’t dare answer him. “I have to tell Alex. Now.” She hurried off her bed to stand on shaky legs and reached for the bedpost at the same time her cousin grabbed her other arm to steady her.
“Nay, Alana.”
Their eyes locked. “Aye, Xander. I promised to meet him up on the ridge tonight anyway. Now my reason is different. I’d merely wanted to see him, but now I have to see him.”
He frowned. “You have to stay here, and we have to deal with this.”
She stilled. “Deal with it? What do you mean?” Her pulse throbbed.
Xander couldn’t, wouldn’t—
His braid danced when he shook his head. “I’m not cruel enough to suggest you end your—”
“Don’t even say it,” she snapped. “I won’t do it.” Tears threatened and she blinked, then hastily swiped at her cheeks. They remained dry. For now.
Her cousin sighed. “What’re you going to do if Seamus goes to you father? He could be there right now. He didn’t say he wouldn’t.”
“He didn’t say he would, either.”
“Your Highness—”
“Seamus has too much to lose—namely Scotland. He wants my father’s throne too badly to give up the betrothal because of my…indiscretion.” She flattened her palm on her lower stomach. “He’ll keep the news to himself for now. He needs to plan and regroup.”
Her cousin studied her. “You suddenly know your intended well.”
“It’s not sudden. I’ve known him for years.”
Xander sighed. “You’d better hope you’re right. I hope you’re right.” The alarm in his voice was still thick, and he flexed his wings.
“He can’t kill me.”
“Nay, he cannot wed a corpse.”
She straightened and swallowed. “Nay, he cannot.” Alana closed her eyes and took a breath. She didn’t want to think about Seamus and marriage. She pushed off the bedpost still in her grip. “I need to go to Alex.”
Her cousin cast his eyes to the ceiling. “I’ll go with you.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Aye, to ensure you come right back, so we can decide what to do about your idiot prince.”
She scowled. “He’s not my prince, and I want to ensure he goes to every level of Fae Hell.”
Xander smirked and moved the hearth with a spell to reveal the secret passageway.