She’d taken him to the cave of the Faery Stones, and when she’d not returned his kiss up on the ridge quite enthusiastically enough, Alana had felt Alex’s nerves. She’d called him to their meeting spot hours early; it wasn’t quite twilight.
He might be young, but he had good instincts, her love knew something was wrong.
Xander’s presence when they were supposed to meet for lovemaking had probably given it away, if nothing else.
Alana had asked her cousin to stay on the beach so she’d be alone with her laird, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think they had true privacy. She could’ve cast a soundproofing spell, but it was smarter not to. Xander would worry.
Alex had taken the news about their child well. Her magic had told her he was happy, but his expression betrayed his nerves. Apprehension that was probably due to her double betrothal, as much as being a first-time father.
She tried not to wince at the guilt churning her gut. She busied her gaze with glancing over the Faery Stones. She was only a few feet from the crystals, and their magic called to hers, she could hear the humming in her head, and the main Stone brightened.
Alana would rather be on the beach with her cousin, the fresh sea wind on her face, even with the evening chill in the air. It would shuffle her hair and caress her in relieving waves. She loved sitting up on the ridge and watching the crashing waters smack into the rocky beach of Skye. It’d calmed her from the first time she’d waited for Alex up there.
“Ye will marry me now.” His hard tone was unrelenting and Alex made fists at his sides.
Her eyes shot back to his determination. Tears blurred her vision again, as if she’d never known any other existence. She couldn’t focus on his demand, or how happy it truly made her. Alana was far from free. “Alex…”
He frowned, and her heart thumped.
Her love had no doubt misinterpreted her wet cheeks. She wanted to marry him, as she’d already agreed. More than anything. And despite the initial panic, she was as happy as he that she was carrying his child.
Alex crowded her, but his hands never wavered from his sides, as if he was afraid to reach for her, but Alana wanted nothing more.
“Now. No’ next week, or in a fortnight, or a month from now, but this day. Ye will be my wife. Yer gonna birth my bairn as my wife.”
She sucked in her bottom lip and ordered her wobbly emotions to every level of Fae Hell. Nothing worked. Her relief warred with her fear and the desperation to scream, aye! and jump into his arms.
If Alana disappeared, Seamus would go to her father, and an army of Fae Warriors would come here. Wipe out Clan MacLeod, her love along with the rest of his people.
“I cannot stay. Even as your wife.” The words made her knees buckle, but when she was about to fall, her laird’s hands shot out and supported her, then pinned her to his hard chest.
“Alana—”
“I’ve told you everything, Alex. Nothing has changed…I want to wed you more than anything, but I cannot run away. Seamus made vows, my love. Vows he will hold to, I promise you that.”
His mouth crashed down on hers and she clung to him, to their fused mouths.
Alana couldn’t pull away from his kiss, but she shouldn’t get lost in it, either. Yet, she didn’t have the strength to deny the man she loved, and gave herself over to the movement of his lips over hers, how he possessed and gave at the same time.
He slanted his mouth again, shoving his tongue into hers, and heat shot down her limbs, warmth settled low. Alex continued to kiss her until they were both trembling and restless.
Arousal was thick in the air, but they couldn’t undress and be together, her cousin was too close, for one thing.
She panted and gripped him, trying to distract her mind from her singing pulse, thrumming body.
“I care no’ mò chridhe,” he breathed, resting his forehead against hers.
Alana shuddered, and fear shimmied down her spine, chasing away desire, despite the warmth of his chest and his arms around her. “You should.”
“Nay,” Alex whispered. “Yer mine. We’re supposed ta be tagether. Now there’s a bairn.”
She swallowed. Oh how she wanted to agree with him. “I love you,” was all she could push out.
“I love ye, as well.” He dipped down and kissed her again, this time achingly sweet and tender. Soft, and bearing his love for her.
He was holding her up; she wanted to burrow into him and never let go.
“So…you want this babe? You’re not afraid of what it all means?” she whispered.
“Aye. I want ye both.” He pressed his lips to her nose, then her forehead. “Yer both mine.”
Alana whimpered and tightened her arms around his neck.
He rubbed her back in long soothing strokes and she melted into his every touch.
“Alana…” He sucked in air, pressing against her breasts even more.
“Alex…”
They stared at each other and silence filled the cave.
She refused to shed more tears.
He was right, they were supposed to be together, and as he’d said, there was a child now. They were having a child.
“Ye said we’re fated, dinna ye?”
“Aye.” Her voice quaked. “I did. I believe we are. You are my fate, Alex MacLeod.”
“Aye, as yer mine.”
That was the third time he’d reminded her she belonged to him.
Perhaps, she’d needed to hear it.
Alana managed a smile, but it was tremulous.
“We will marry now, mò chridhe. Ye will be my wife. Taday.”
Introductions were awkward, but not many questions were asked or answered as Alex’s family gathered with them in the MacLeod chapel—save his sister and mother.
Janet would probably be cross with him later for missing his wedding, but she was keeping their mother company in her rooms.
Alex didn’t know what she’d been told to keep her there, but only his brother and father had joined them in the chapel to be witnesses.
Explanations and answers would be for later—as well as revealing that he’d soon be a father. Due to her health, his mother couldn’t be there to witness their nuptials, but she’d been happy when he’d told her he would soon marry. The day his father and sister had walked in on him and Duncan in his ledger room felt like months ago.
The same relief and delight had radiated in her eyes as when his stupid brother had told her he had a lass. Lady Caitriona couldn’t wait to meet his wife.
Sorrow and joy mixed in his gut and forced his pulse to throb in his temples. Alana would be his wife this day, and the mother to his firstborn in the months to come, but she still couldn’t stay with him.
He wanted to gather men, storm her realm and slay the bastard prince that was keeping her from her proper place at his side.
If they were fated, perhaps it would all work itself out?
How? Reverberated in his head.
He refused to be desperate at the moment. He was about to be wed to the woman he loved, the love of his life.
Duncan cleared his throat, and his eyes landed on his twin.
Their father stood next to him, wringing his hands in front of his plaid-clad form. The older man’s nerves were evident, making the same skitter down Alex’s spine, and he fought a shiver.
He should feel crowded with their tall forms surrounding him next to the altar, but they were his family. It was right that they were present.
Neither looked pleased with the current circumstances, although Iain had been validated and quite smug that the Fae were actually real.
When he’d met Alana and Xander moments before, Alex’s father had been quiet, as if hesitant to believe they were before him, and he couldn’t gather words to speak. Then he’d blurted that there was Fae blood in their line.
Alana had smiled and nodded, before launching into a story about a Fae princess named Sima.
Iain’s shoulders had loosened then, and he’d grinned triumph at both his sons. That happy sentiment had seemed to dissolve now as tension shot up, filling the usually peaceful space.
They didn’t have time to share with him what they really thought about his wife-to-be or her cousin, but he was grateful neither had protested when he’d explain the marriage was to occur now.
Alex hadn’t shed light on Alana’s situation to anyone, not even his brother, and his family didn’t know she couldn’t stay in their realm after they’d exchanged vows.
They’d rushed the nearest priest to Dunvegan, and the portly balding man was currently on the dais scowling down at them. He had the Bible open and his glare softened as he scanned the holy words he would soon recite.
Alex tried not to let Father Alban’s displeasure make his nerves even worse. The older man was set in his ways, and he could only imagine what his twin had had to promise the codger to get him to come to Dunvegan in the evening on short notice to perform a wedding.
Movement at the chapel doors snagged his attention, but then his eyes were frozen on the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
She was walking toward them—to him—on Xander’s arm.
Alana was still covered in purple, but she’d changed into a fancy gown with long flowing skirts, and a bodice that seemed to be covered in feathers stained the same rich dark hue—royal purple, of course.
The fabric shimmered and caught the candlelight surrounding the raised altar and two steps, and it had a train that trailed behind her. Her shoulders were bare, and he had to suck in a growl of protest at her breasts, which were pushed high, on display.
Her hair had been bound and placed up, and she wore a glinting jeweled tiara atop her head.
She looked like…well, the princess she was.
So gorgeous his breath evaporated.
Mine.
Her smile was brilliant and made his heart stutter.
Alex bid himself to relax. If she could let go of her worries and fear, so should he. This was his wedding. It was supposed to be the happiest day of his life—and it was. He needed to hold that close and push all the negatives away.
They could—and would—deal with it all later.
He grabbed her hands when she reached for him, and helped her step up in front of the priest.
“Alana?” Alex whispered.
“I couldn’t very well marry you in trews and a cloak.”
His brother chuckled and some of the tension lifted.
Alex let himself smile and leaned in to his betrothed. “Magic?” he said into her ear.
“Aye,” she said back, and there was a twinkle in her violet eyes that matched the fabric of her pretty dress. Hopefully the priest wouldn’t notice—or remark—on how unusual the gown’s style was.
Alana’s cousin hovered over her with a frown firmly in place, but he took his position opposite Duncan and Iain beside the dais without a word.
Alex really wanted to dislike the tall fair-haired warrior, but Xander was fiercely protective of Alana, so he had to respect him. The few conversations they’d shared had showed him the stoic man was good, caring. He had no doubt of his skills as a warrior, either.
Father Alban cleared his throat and didn’t bother asking if Xander was giving Alana to Alex. “Ye have no contract?” Disapproval coated his tone.
Alana’s eyes locked onto his before they both shook their heads.
“I approve of tha union, Father,” Iain said. “Just join them in tha eyes a’ God.”
Relief and gratitude for his father washed over him, and Alex released a breath.
Alana shot a look to the former laird, and mouthed, ‘thank you’.
Then she looked back at Alex and he got lost in her eyes, her love, her joy. She was radiant.
And she was about to be his.
Officially.