Indecent: The Moray Druids #2 (Highland Historical) by Kerrigan Byrne

“Someone say something about whiskey?”
    Motioning to a few of her sisters, Judith led them to the kitchens, leaving Kenna and Niall to battle with Mother Superior and her many chins of disapproval.
    “Do what you will,” Niall informed the woman, obviously out of what little patience he’d ever had. “My men and I are going to help your nuns storm-proof this abbey and build what few defenses we can. Just don’t get in our way.”
    Kenna watched as he gave orders and began to organize not just his people, but hers, as well. A horrible thought plagued her as she tried to figure where she would be the most help. It was the very last line of the Doomsday Prophesy, one upon which she and Malcolm had debated most spiritedly. One which alternately gave her hope, and terrified her.
    It is not known who shall be left standing at the end of that great day of wrath.

Chapter Six
     
    Niall found Kenna at the casement in the abbey’s library, curled in the window seat, using moonlight and a few candles to pour over the Grimoire. The day had been long and productive, and at this moment, the small abbey was as prepared as it could ever be.
    Would it be enough, he wondered, to stand against such power as these Druids wielded? Kenna had told him that the in the evil retinue of three, a Water Druid, Macha, and another fire Druid, Nemain, accompanied Badb, and that they used incredibly heinous means to feed their power. Blood magick, human sacrifices, and all manner of dark, torturous deeds. They were masterful witches, with more than two hundred years of practice and preparation on their side.
    As calm as Kenna looked, studiously absorbing as much knowledge as possible, Niall could sense that she was terrified. The silver moon and golden candlelight turned the copper of her hair into a molten frenzy of precious metals.  Her amber eyes were too dark as they tracked his entry into the room, as though the embers behind them were dangerously close to being extinguished.
    “You should get some sleep,” he prompted. “I’ll sit watch over you.”
    “Nay,” she sighed, returning to her book. “There will be no sleeping tonight. Not until I know that Malcolm and Morgana have arrived.”
    Niall moved closer, craving her eyes upon his. Her hands on his skin. That gentle smile upon her face. “I’m sure they’re safe.” He attempted comforting words, which sat upon his tongue less gently than he’d like.
    Kenna just shook her head, not looking up from those ancient words in front of her. “No one is safe. Not anymore.” Closing the disturbing cover of the Grimoire, she slid it beneath the faded cushion of the seat, as though the habit of concealing it was an unbreakable one. The moon illuminated her frown with an eerie blue cast when she turned from him to gaze out the window. “They’re out there,” she predicted. “The Wyrd Sisters. I can feel them casting. I wish I knew what they were up to. I wish I knew how to stop them.”
    Niall joined her in her inspection of the night, finding only a patina of shadow. “I am sorry I led them to your door,” he murmured, the responsibility of her anxiety weighing heavy on his shoulders. On his heart.
    She cast a soft glance his way. “I don’t blame you,” she comforted, much better at it than he. “I think it was inevitable that they find me here. That we were kidding ourselves to think that we could outrun a Prophecy as powerful as this one.”
    Niall hated that she sounded as though she’d already lost, the defeat etched into the hunch of her shoulders and the dips between her brows. He reached for her jaw, which felt as brittle as glass as he cupped it in his hand. “Accept me, Kenna, as your mate,” he commanded in a husky whisper. “And together we will vanquish your enemies, or be sent to the afterlife in the attempt.”
    A tear snaked from the corner of her eye and dripped onto his palm where it branded all the way to his heart. “Don’t you understand,