The Legendary Highlander (Highland Myths Trilogy #3) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Historical Fiction, Myth/Mythology Tags Authors: Series: Highland Myths Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher

Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)

Is she a witch or a healer?

Lord Varrick is the Legendary Highlander who has well-earned the myth centered around him. He is known for his endless victories in battle, his fearless skill as a warrior, and his soulless nature. He rules over a heavily forested area in the north and rumors spread that he commands an army of the dead and that no one passes through his land without his permission, or they chance battling his ethereal warriors. Truth or tale? No one knows and no one takes the chance of finding out.
Fia is a healer from a long line of healers. She is eager to learn all she can so she can help the ill, though more importantly prevent illness if possible. Her grandmother warned her to be careful that there were those who would misjudge her and threaten her life. A fair warning indeed, for she has met such a fate and is now in the hands of the legendary Highlander. But not the way she thought she would be… she is forced to wed him.
Lord Varrick refuses to tell her what he wants with her, and she fears that once he has what he wants her fate will be sealed, and he will see her dead, ending their marriage and being rid of her. How to prevent such a fate is the challenge she faces. He does not hold her prisoner but has warned her of the consequences if she should run from him and it is not something she wishes to chance.

Note: While this trilogy does not need to be read in sequence, each book a standalone, Fia and other characters from Highland Myth Trilogy were first introduced in Highland Secrets A Cree & Dawn Novel… a prelude of sorts to their individual stories.

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Fia jolted up out of sleep, eyes wide and heart pounding, the deep, commanding voice continuing to echo in her ears. She pulled her wool cloak tightly around her, not that it did much good against the cold that penetrated the dungeon’s stone walls where she was held prisoner—though not for much longer.

He had arrived to take possession of her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. There had been nothing she could do when captured weeks ago, imprisoned, and accused of being a witch. Her twenty-odd years had taught her that ignorance was a difficult foe to battle.

She was no witch. She was a healer from a long line of healers. She had inherited the skill of her ancestors and their passion to learn, to prefect their craft, to help the ill, and… like some before her, possess the knowing. She would sense things to come and a voice in her head often guided her. Both had benefited her, kept her safe, had even helped her as a healer. Other times it had nearly gotten her killed. She tried to make sense of it and find a way to control it, but it wasn’t possible. It had a will of its own, so she had learned to live with it the best way she could, and, at times, she had learned to hide it.

She shivered, a long, drawn-out shiver, and it was not only the cold that brought it on, but fear. She had sensed, not long after her arrival here, that a man would come for her and demand to take possession of her. Unfortunately, she did not know why. She only knew that fate had sent him, but fate could be a friend or foe and only time would tell which one it was meant to be.

Fia stood, stretching the stiffness and aches from her limbs. Her sleeping palette was nothing more than a thin layer of hay with a sparse wool blanket spread over it. She often wrapped the blanket around her cloak for extra warmth. Still, she had never felt warm enough since arriving here.

Her stomach grumbled, reminding her of her hunger. Tavia, the daughter of Chieftain Newlin of Clan Strathearn, made sure she had sufficient food, as did Flora, the chieftain’s niece. But an arranged marriage had Tavia recently leaving with her husband. A hastily arranged marriage had taken Flora away as well.

Cora, one of the cooks in the kitchen, had tried her best to bring her food but Chieftain Newlin made it difficult for her. He believed Fia a witch and feared what she might inflict on him and the clan, making it difficult for Cora to sneak her sufficient food.

She would forgo the food right now for a bucket of water so she might clean herself before meeting her fate. The stench in her cell had her wrinkling her nose and she worried that some of it was coming from her, having had no chance to wash since her capture.

Fia stilled, catching a sound. It was the door at the top of the stairs creaking open. Light footfalls followed cautiously and Fia hurried to the iron bars on the cell door.

“Cora?” Fia called out softly.

“Aye, it is me,” Cora acknowledged just as softly, fearful someone would hear.

Fia was glad to see the short, round woman, though the worry on her face had Fia asking, “What’s wrong, Cora?”

“He has arrived,” Cora said and hugged herself protectively. “He has the finest features I have ever seen on a man and yet he is the most frightening man I have ever seen. His warriors do not move without a command from him. And one look from his,” —she shivered— “I have never seen the color of his eyes before, a blue so bold it captures you and you cannot look away. One look, not a word from him, and his warriors obey without hesitation. Thankfully, he did not bring his army of the dead with him.” She shivered again. “Chieftain Newlin trembles in his presence, most do. I have heard the legends spread about him. Spawned from the mist of battle one day the tale goes, but they seemed more fanciful than true.” Her eyes went wide. “Now, though, seeing him with my own eyes, I believe the tales are true and I cannot wait for him to take his leave.”

Cora’s words sent a shudder through Fia. She would go from one prison to another, forced to leave with him.

“I am so sorry,” Cora rushed to say. “I wish you could be set free. I do not believe you are a witch, though I cannot say that to others. They would believe you cast a spell on me and have me do your bidding.” She hurried a wrapped cloth through the space in the bars. “I managed to sneak some bread, though you might be better meeting him on an empty stomach.”