Page 52 of Duncan

“I’ve truly been bespelled?” Meg whispered, her mind clear and her heart filling with horror.

“Only just now, from the charm I put on you,” he told her, and brushed the hair back from her eyes. “’Tis stopped the change coming over you. Your body, ’twas altering itself.”

His description of her state sickened her even more.

“What could do such, and what shall I become? A beast?”

“I wager you’ll learn after nightfall, when the full moon rises,” he said. “But such changes dinnae happen for ordinary mortals. I reckon your blood, ’tis causing your alterations and impulses.”

He knew what she was going to turn into, and he didn’t want to reveal that. For a moment Meg was glad, because she suspected it would drive her mad to know. Only she knew she had to face it, and decide before the full moon swelled if she should end herself.

She looked into his dark eyes, glad that she still saw some kindness there. “Tell me all you’ve no’ said, Healer.”

“Your hair, ’twas turning black,” Duncan said, his voice growing soft and kind. “The nails on your fingers grew longer and bled, as if something from within pushed them out. Your eyes turned to a paler green, and your skin grew riddled with tiny bumps. When you spoke, I saw your teeth had also grown longer and sharper. I suspect the coming full moon calls your Therion shifter blood.”

Therion shifter blood. Meg’s heart struck those words and shattered over them before it began to sink in her chest. She was the same as the Cait Sith, the clan’s enemies.

“Did one of them enchant me somehow?” she begged, hoping against everything that told her otherwise. “Cannae you cure me of the change?”

“’Tisnae an enchantment. ’Twas in your blood from birth.” He wiped away the tear that rolled down her cheek. “You’re half-mortal, and half Fae, Meg, just as the MacMar.”

“Only I’m no’ Prince Mar’s daughter. He could only sire sons on mortal females.” She swallowed a sob. “’Twas my màthair, then. She took my da as her lover, birthed me, and ran off. Why didnae I ken any of what she made me before now?”

“You’ve only just reached womanhood, lass. All halflings appear mortal until then.” Duncan began untying her, and then helped her sit up. “We must arrange a place for you before nightfall where you may remove the charm and change in safety.”

“In the dungeons, then.” She met his worried gaze. “Lock me away from the other vassals, so I dinnae harm anyone else. Keep me there until ’tis finished.”

“I’ll stay with her, Healer.” Lady Valerie came into the infirmary, but from her expression she’d been listening at the door. She came to Meg, holding out her arms.

“Keep your distance, my lady,” she told the laird’s wife, climbing off the table and backing away from her. “The enchantress, she’s a shifter, aye? I could be her spawn. I could cut your throat before you could blink–”

“No, you wouldn’t, because you love me,” the older woman said, her voice filled with warmth and compassion as she pulled her close. “And I love you as if I had given birth to you myself. We will get through this together, I promise you.”

Meg had never wept so hard as she did in Valerie’s arms; if her tears had turned to blood she would not have been surprised. Yet as her sobbing finally slowed, for the first time she had a little hope, and now, someone who knew and wished to comfort and protect her.

NICOLE WENT to the infirmary with two mugs of spicy brew, but found it empty. Duncan must have gone off to check on Fiacail, she decided as she set down the drinks and sat beside the healer’s hearth. Watching the flames dance made an intense drowsiness come over her, and she dozed off, falling into the darkness where dreams came.

Nicole became aware first of the blue silk dress she wore, which had too much lace and the flouncy skirts her father had always liked to see her wear. Judging by the flatness of her chest and lack of height, she had come back to her thirteen-year-old self. As she stood in the dark waiting to relive whatever memory had escaped her subconscious, the scent of cotton candy warmed the cold air around her.

Only one person could do that in her dreams.

“Aunt Merry.” Part of her wanted to shriek with outrage, but that would change nothing. “I know you’re there. Quit playing hide and seek.”

Her aunt stepped out of the shadows, her curly white hair nearly glowing against the dark. “I would never do such a thing, Princess.”

She had met her aunt for the first and only time when she was thirteen, which explained her appearance. Merry had paid her a surprise visit while she had been in the states, taking her out for sumptuous lunches at the best restaurants. Never a snob when it came to anything, the older woman had used their time together to teach her to appreciate classic French cuisine just as much as American bistro food. While she had never tried to be a mother to her, during that visit she had given Nicole a glimpse of what her mother might have been like.

And just before promising to see her in her dreams and leaving, her sweet, wonderful, sophisticated aunt had revealed the truth about herself and her sister, Sylvaen. That honesty had destroyed all of Nicole’s dreams and utterly ruined her life.

“Have you missed me?” Merry asked. “Not a day has passed when I haven’t thought of you, Nicolina.”

At thirteen Nicole had had no idea why her aunt called her that. She’d already seen her birth certificate, and her mother had named her Nicole Brielle Fairburn. It had confused her during her aunt’s first and only visit, but she’d been polite and said nothing to her.

That had been the story of her life, Nicole thought sadly. Shutting up because to question anything was bad manners.

“Why are you coming to me now?” A surge of reluctant affection made her go over and hug her mother’s sister. “I just had a dream about you a little while ago.”

“Did you? How lovely. Word came to me that you jumped off your father’s yacht and disappeared. Everyone believes you were killed.” Merry pouted. “How could you do such a terrible thing to Maxwell? He has grown so heartbroken that he refuses to get out of bed anymore. Hudson just sits with him all day, holding his hand like the angel he is.”