up an alarming amount of sea water, the seals scolded and barked their displeasure at Kylah.
“I’m sorry,” she told them. “I didn’t think I would startle him.”
“Ye didna think,” Daroch rasped, tugging at his ears.
One seal blew a very rude noise at her with its wee pink tongue as they started to tow Daroch toward the rocks.
“No. Well, yes. That is, I figured you would see me as I came at you sideways and I do tend to glow,” she rambled. “I wouldn’t at all put you in danger on purpose. You must believe me.”
The Druid glowered at her. “I was a more than a little preoccupied,” he quipped. “And it’s not lack of foresight on my part if I wasna on the lookout for a Banshee in the middle of the ocean at midday! I’m only a man.” They reached the cliffs and the Druid touched his nose to each of the seals’ in a surprisingly sweet manner before he pulled himself out of the water and onto a narrow ledge.
Kylah’s retort died an instant and vicious death in her throat.
Not one living soul would glimpse Daroch McLeod standing on that ledge, surveying the ocean as though he owned it, and mistake him for a mere man. Nay, they would invoke the Sea God, Llyr, and tremble. Surely a man so savagely, brutally rendered could only exist in a mythic Pantheon.
Kylah’s gaze skimmed across runic tattoos that took on a wicked cast in the midday sunlight. They wrapped and knotted upward from his powerful left leg to splay indolently across a vast expanse of rippled torso and flare beneath his ribcage, then circle the flat of his nipple to claim the entire left side of his immense chest. There, the black and blue of the symbols vied for supremacy in an intricate design before stretching across one wide shoulder, reaching up the cords of his neck, and cutting across his clenched jaw before ending with sharp points over his intense left eye. His long, thick arm was also covered in runes to the wrist.
Her gaze darted back to his hips where the runes were half concealed by an animal skin loin-cloth secured by a leather strap. They drew her eyes like a sin, disappearing beneath each part of the scant covering, suggesting that they obscured more than she could ever wish to see, both in front of him and behind.
Something clenched deep within her belly. Something wet and warm and ready. The completely foreign sensation perplexed her, terrified her. It made her intensely aware of that place. The one she vowed to forever ignore.
Something beneath the cloth flexed and twitched and the Druid made a dangerous, guttural sound.
“I’m sorry,” Kylah breathed. Though wasn’t sure if she apologized because she’d been caught staring or because she’d almost drowned him. Her eyes flew to his face, which didn’t help with the alarming ache building inside of her. Kylah had always known she was a beautiful woman, but she realized that until this moment she’d never beheld true beauty.
Daroch’s beauty was cruel. His brow was high-born and lined with scorn, his nose straight but flared with arrogance, his lips full, but pulled tight into a malevolent sneer. His eyes evoked the sea in a storm, swirling with grey, brown, and green and occasionally flashing with silver.
“Ye have no idea what ye’ve done, woman.” Those eyes accused her now, as he reached into his bag laden with fish and threw a reward to his two lingering rescuers.
Kylah swallowed. “I’m really, very sorry. I—I—don’t know how to make it up to you.”
His eyes swept the expanse of ocean again with cautious expectation. “In a few moments, ye may not ever have to worry about trying.” With that cryptic statement, he turned to the stone and began to climb, using small fissures and juts in the rock to hoist his considerable body up the cliff face.
This must be something he did quite often, Kylah considered as she watched his muscles strain and cord with more interest then they likely merited. Perhaps it was how he’d built such a large, strong body. Kylah found herself transfixed by the movement of the tattoos reaching around his back. His shoulders and arms bulged. His legs propelled him with surprising strength and dexterity and she realized that if she remained at this angle for much longer, his loin cloth would no longer shield him from her view.
“You’re wrong, you know.” She levitated to eye-level with him.
“Not… a good… time,”