Echoes Of The Heather Wind

MacLean trudged along the muddy path toward her family's croft, her boots sinking with each step. At twenty-eight, she'd grown accustomed to the isolation of Glen Torr,

ed unease, tugging at her auburn

g. No one ventured this far in a storm, not with the forecast of sleet. Dropping her basket of foraged herbs, she rushed forward, her shepherd's coat flapping. The figure was male

ng, checked his pulse-weak but present. Another flash revealed a glint of metal at his wrist, a silver bracelet etched

mile off, and the storm was closing in. Rain began to fall, sharp and cold, as she dragged him toward shelter, the wind howling like a banshee. His satchel slipped, and a sm

cus-high cheekbones, a stubbled jaw, and eyes that flickered open, a piercing gray that seemed to hold

a blanket. "You're at my cro

ed to the satchel, and Eryn realized he meant the book. Before she could ask, a shadow

h seeping through the leather, and Eryn felt a jolt, like a memory she couldn't plac

ispered, her voice st

es locking with hers. "And I'v

eft for the city, promising to return but never did, leaving her to tend the croft alone. "Well, Ca

igure outside, the book's warmth, Callum's cryptic words-it was a puzzle she couldn't ignore. He

plied, taping a bandage in place.

d the damp air. "You're not wha

storm outside raged, but inside, a different current f

d, reaching for the book. Its light flared, casting shadows over the room. Eryn grabbe

ut, low and threatening. "Callum Reid, hand o

an cold. "Frie

book. "They need it to unlock somethi

ce was real. The poker felt flimsy, but she nodded

immed, but the voice above grew insistent. The cellar was cramped, lined with jars of preserves and wo

n whispered, her sh

guard old secrets-power tied to this tome. I stole it to expose them,

ced by an eerie silence. Eryn's mind raced, piecing together a plan. She'd protect her croft, her legacy, and maybe th

new this was no ordinary night, an