Authors: Mary Morgan
Tags: #Time Travel, #Contemporary, #Medieval, #Paranormal, #Fantasy
He would get the truth out of her.
She was now his. Bought and paid for.
His anger simmered just below the surface, and he allowed his eyes to flash with the fire of the dragon. Hearing her gasp, he smiled.
Good, little bird. Fear me.
Without giving her time to react, he swept her up and dumped her over his left shoulder and strode to the ship.
He heard her sharp intake of breath, and then she started to pound against his back. “Put…me
,” she demanded.
She started to kick, and he clenched his jaw in frustration. The little bird had talons. He responded with a smack to her bottom, but instead of removing his hand, he kept it against her soft curves. “I will put ye down when we are on my ship.”
She went completely still, and then she screamed.
Alastair dumped her onto the ground. “For the love of Brigid, did ye have to yell into my ear?”
Fiona rubbed at her bottom and then stood. “You beast,” she spat out at him. Jumping onto a nearby boulder, she looked directly into his eyes. “Don’t you
touch me like that again.”
Alastair yanked her to his chest by her arms, his face mere inches from hers. “And what are
going to do?” He watched as her eyes widened in alarm. Blue eyes that reminded him of the sky on warm summer days. Then his gaze traveled down to her lips, red as berries.
Instantly, his beast roared to life.
Claim one kiss, Alastair.
Praise for Mary Morgan
“She articulates a fantasy world that surrounded me in all its wonder! This one was awesome. She kept me reading way longer than I should have. I could not put the book down. The intensity and emotion she elicited in me, kept me in tears. Once I thought I was past the emotional scene, I’d dry my eyes and she’d put me right back bawling my head off. Do you know how hard it is to read and cry at the same time? You have, if you’ve found a well-written book with highly emotional scenes. And you will if you pick up this author.”
~Booktalk with Eileen
“An adventure filled with passion and power. Two souls destined to be together if they can conquer their fears and look towards a future, instead of letting the past define them.”
~Tea and Book
“This book has everything I look for in a good story. Sexy Highlander knights, time travel and magic.”
~Warrior Woman Winmill
“I fell in love with the Dragon Knight series with book one, which was the story of eldest brother Duncan McKay.”
~The Book Reading Gals
“Mary has done her magic again, with her Scottish time travel!”
Dragon Knight’s Axe
Order of the Dragon Knights,
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Dragon Knight’s Axe
COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Mary Morgan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
First Fantasy Rose Edition, 2015
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0200-3
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0201-0
Order of the Dragon Knights, Book Three
Published in the United States of America
For my editor, Amanda Barnett,
my dear Guardian Angel with a ruler.
They were an ancient order, descended from the great Tuatha De Danann, the Sidhe, or in simpler terms,
Half-human and half-Fae, each was blessed with mystical powers. They also were given Holy Relics from the Tuatha De Danann and guardianship over their dragons.
They were known as
With the dawn of Christianity, the dragons were systematically hunted down and slain, leaving only one. She was taken from Ireland to a land across the sea, settling in the Great Glen near Urquhart with the MacKay Clan, descendents from the MacAoidh.
Yet, there were those who believed the Order had too much power, and they tried to possess it for themselves. They were evil and twisted, and their plan succeeded one fateful night.
The brothers of the Clan MacKay—Dragon Knights, fought a battle. Blood spilled onto holy ground, bringing forth the wrath of the Fae. Their relics were taken and the Order banished. Each of their names were stricken from the hallowed halls of the Fae.
However, not all was lost, for the Fae loved these men.
Therefore, a quest for redemption was given to each. Duncan and Stephen MacKay fulfilled their journey. Now it is time for another brother to step forward.
Alastair MacKay’s powers come from the land. Yet, he will take to the ocean in self-punishment, mocking the God of the Sea.
Cursed and battle scarred, he is feared by many. They say he is two men. One part angel—one part monster. One would only have to look at his face to distinguish between the two.
Nevertheless, his day of reckoning grows near.
Alastair MacKay will have to battle the demon he created, for the love of a woman who is brave enough to love them both.
In the end, one must die.
July 1206—Off the coast of Dublin, Ireland
The wind whipped and snapped furiously, daring Alastair to take another step. Blinding rain slashed at his face as he slipped and crashed to his knees. Gripping the side of the ship with one hand and the other grasping the stern, Alastair let out a roar as he struggled to stand. His gut twisted in agony, and the bile in his stomach threatened to heave itself up onto the deck. Swallowing the bitter taste, he tried to move forward cautiously, anticipating the next lashing from the sea.
A flash of lightning seared past him grazing his shoulder, and this time he emptied his stomach over the stern. The taste of salt and mead lingered as he wiped away the spittle, and he slid down against the side of the ship letting the sea strike without mercy at his tormented body.
God, how he hated the ocean!
Holding his head in his hands, he cursed inwardly at being out on this wretched water. His body was not made for the sea, since it left him sick and weak.
, it craved the land, beckoning him to claim what was rightfully his. All he had to do was call forth his powers of the land and it would show itself. Lifting his head, his hand shook as he slowly reached out, but instantly he closed his fingers and pounded his fist against the wood. Tremors shook his body as he fought to control the surge of energy. Thunder roared overhead, taunting him to try again, and still he would not relent.
“Is this the day I die? Is this not why I surrendered myself to the God of the Sea? The land is my power, and yet, I am here because I failed Meggie. ’Tis my fault she died. Mine!” he howled, burying his head back in his hands.
“If this is my destiny to die on the sea…so be it.” Pain clawed at his shoulder, and he knew he was fighting a losing battle with the Sea God.
Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes, ready to surrender. Yet, whispers of another voice floated through his thoughts. Meggie’s laughter when he first carpeted the ground with fresh heather using magic. The time he told her horse to take her to the stones where the faeries danced, and she marveled at the sight. Then there was the time she scolded him when he climbed out and down the side of his chamber window, scaring the entire family as they all witnessed his bold act.
“Ye may think ye are brave, Alastair, but what ye did lacks brains. Ye must strive for something better. Ye are a Dragon Knight.”
When he opened his eyes, he could not tell if it was seawater or tears streaming down his face. “Are ye telling me it’s not my time, wee Meggie?” He shook his head on a choked sob. How many times had he stalked the bleak abyss of death, only to hear her voice pull him back? Would his time be of
Something flashed to his right, and all thoughts of defeat fled his mind as he wiped the snot and water from his face.
The canvas fluttered madly, its contents underneath threatening to spill forth. If they lost this cargo, heads would surely roll. Not only were they transporting woolens and furs, but barrels of wine and rum.
Gritting his teeth, Alastair sought out Gunnar who stood clutching the mast pole. His gaze focused out toward the sea. Yelling out his name would do no good, for the winds howled mightily around them. His friend probably thought this storm had the power of Thor’s hammer, so fierce in its strength.
The others also held tight, their vision turned outward, too. Did
of them notice they were about to lose their cargo?
“Bloody Northmen, praying to their damn Gods,” he hissed. Standing, a blast of sea spray hit him in the face and he let out a curse.
The canvas split wider, yet no one detected it, save him. With each step he took, the elements punished him with their relentless battering. Taking another step, the ship veered left and Alastair lost his footing, smacking into the back of Alrek. The ship lurched violently to the right and both were tossed against the side.
Yanking Alrek’s tunic, he yelled, “Quit praying to your Gods, and help me tie down the canvas!”
The man’s eyes were wide with fear, but he nodded in understanding. Another wave crashed over them causing Alastair to strike his head against the pole.
“Damn! For the love of Manannan Mac Lir, cease this!” He wiped away the blood seeping down into his eyes. Lightning flashed overhead, and he sneered. The God of the sea mocked his command.
Taking a hold of the rope, he pulled it around, noticing Gunnar had snapped out of his trance and managed to help secure the canvas. The ship pitched forward, but all the men held firm. Using the brief moment to bring the rope over and around the canvas, Gunnar took the other end and secured it as well.
Another wave spilled over them, and Alastair sputtered out the salty water, swallowing again the contents of his stomach. They may fear the storm, but he, Alastair MacKay, once a powerful Dragon Knight, no longer feared anything.
“Do your worst, Sea God,” he growled. “Today is not the day I die.”
The ship pitched high and then crashed down into the sea. Alastair heaved his body against the side of the cargo, holding tight to the rope and keeping his sight out for any sign of the coast. If they did not make land soon, the sea would rip them to shreds.
With a violent shudder, he let the force of his powers flow through his hands. “Bring us to ye, Great Mother,” he muttered.
Lightning sliced through the sky descending far too close to the ship and with one last high pitch, she swayed to the right, each man gripping on with all of their might. For a few moments, the ship teetered on going over, but at the last second, it crashed back down.