Warrior Untamed

“Melissa Mayhue rocks the Scottish Highlands.”

—
A Romance Review

“You can’t go wrong when you pick up one of Ms. Mayhue’s books.”

—
Night Owl Romance

WARRIOR REBORN

“Melissa Mayhue does not disappoint. . . . A wonderful continuation of this series.”

—The Reading Café

“Enthralling characters with a splash of Fairy magic and a dash of heart-pounding romance . . . Melissa Mayhue truly knows how to captivate her readers.”

—Sassy Book Lovers

“The characters are rich and sensual, enriched by the lush background of the Highlands. . . .”

—Tea and Book

“Magic, mystery, time travel, and a beautifully written love story. . . .
Warrior Reborn
is amazing.”

—Storm Goddess Book Reviews

“Melissa Mayhue entrances the reader with the settings and characters of a time-travel novel. . . . The romance is palpable. . . . Entertaining and beautiful.”

—Reflections of a Bookworm

WARRIOR’S REDEMPTION

Winner of an RT Seal of Excellence Award

“Melissa Mayhue brings the Scottish locale to life with a colorful vividness. . . . Unforgettable characters and a magically imaginative premise.”

—Single Titles

“Characters of vastly different backgrounds—Nordic and Texan—emotional turmoil, magic, and an ever-expanding love coupled with an unusual plot make this an extraordinary read.”

—RT Book Reviews

“A little bit of magic, a little bit of Faerie, a little bit of time travel, and a whole lot of Highland Warrior made for a wonderful romance story.”

—Another Look Book Reviews

“A wonderful job . . . fun, filled with action and danger.”

—The Reading Café

“Marvelous, magical mayhem.”

—Genre Go Round Reviews

“With strong characters, witty dialogue, and an easy to follow plot, what’s not to enjoy? A must-read.”

—My Book Addiction Reviews

“A refreshing breath of fresh air.”

—Novel Reaction

PRAISE FOR THE DAUGHTERS OF THE GLEN SERIES

“Deeply moving characters, fraught with emotional turmoil, the subtle entwining of Faerie magic and a highly charged, ever-expanding romance. . . .”

—RT Book Reviews
(4
¹
/
₂
stars)

“Wonderful. . . . Melissa Mayhue captures the complications and delights of both the modern woman and the fascination with the medieval world.”

—Denver Post

“If you love time travel, you should be reading Ms. Mayhue’s books. If you’re into Scottish historicals, you too should be reading this series. Heck, every romance reader should be reading these books just because they’re great stories. You will become a Melissa Mayhue fan in no time at all.”

—The Good, the Bad, and the Unread

“Time after time, Mayhue brings her readers tantalizingly close to emotional satisfaction.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Absolutely riveting from start to finish.”

—A Romance Review

“A delightful world of the Faerie. . . . Snappy dialogue and passionate temptations . . . are sure to put a smile on your face.”

—Fresh Fiction

For all the readers

My thanks to all the talented people at Pocket Books who helped bring this story to life.

Special thanks to my agent, Elaine Spencer.

I
F ANY HARM
had come to Bridget MacCulloch, there would be hell to pay.

Not that he had personal feelings for the MacCulloch woman one way or another. He absolutely didn’t. The very last thing he needed to complicate his life was a woman. Especially a woman as stubborn and undisciplined as Bridget.

Halldor O’Donar had determined long ago that he’d hold tender feelings for no woman. Unless a man was of a mind to settle down with a wife and raise a family, a woman had but one purpose in his life. And Hall was not of a mind to marry. Besides, no Mortal woman would have the least bit of interest in him, once she learned what he was and how he was destined to spend his life.

His vow regarding Bridget’s safety was made for no other reason than that he’d hate to have wasted all the time and effort he’d put into saving her life in the first place. Not to mention that enlisting the aid of the Tinklers to spirit the woman away from the
clutches of Torquil MacDowylt had put him squarely back in the debt of the Fae.

It rankled mightily that he’d barely settled one debt to them before incurring another.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Hall’s companions cast worried looks to the skies.

“Unusual weather for this time of year,” Eric MacNicol mused. “But unusual tends to be the order of the day when I’m in yer company, does it no, my friend?”

“Only Thor himself has power over the weather. This is no fault of mine,” Hall muttered, though the words he spoke weren’t completely true.

Not even years of training and solitude had succeeded in giving him complete control over those unruly emotions of his.

Hall’s second traveling partner, Patrick Mac-Dowylt, younger brother to the laird of the MacGahan, reined in his horse and stood in his stirrups. “Look down there,” he directed, lifting an arm to point into the distance. “Unless my eyes deceive me, we’ve finally found them.”

Hall jerked his attention to the spot Patrick indicated. Even from this distance, there could be no mistaking the bright colors of the Tinkler wagons. With a kick to his horse, he lurched forward in full gallop, the knot in his stomach still balled up tight.

The Tinklers were several days overdue. Until he could see with his own two eyes that Bridget was unharmed, he couldn’t bring himself to start his
quest to find the sword and the scrolls that had been taken from Tordenet before Chase Noble’s battle with Torquil MacDowylt. Without those treasures, there was no hope of defeating the monster that now possessed the MacDowylt laird’s body. And if the monster couldn’t be defeated, the world as they knew it faced an unholy change.

“Aho, warrior!” The elder Tinkler, William Faas, drew his wagon to a stop and rose from his seat as Hall approached, waving a hand in welcome. “We’d no thought to be seeing you out here upon the trail.”

Damned careless of the Tinkler to greet riders in such an open fashion. And exactly what Hall would expect of the Fae and their chosen people. He hated how they blundered through the Mortal world, acting as if they were impervious to danger. They, of all beings, should know that appearances meant nothing. He could have been anyone. Or anything.

“You worry too much, mighty warrior.” William’s wife, Editha, reached out to pat his arm as he pulled his horse up next to their wagon. “I felt yer presence long before we saw you and yer friends. The one you seek is in the back of the second wagon.”

Editha was more than Tinkler. Of that, Hall had not one single doubt. It was she who had convinced the others to help him spirit Bridget to safety away from Tordenet. And it was to her that he was now indebted.

Damned difficult Fae. A fine trick fate had played
on him, repeatedly weaving the path of his life with that of the Fae.

Hall kept those thoughts to himself. At least he hoped he did. With a respectful dip of his head, he turned his horse toward the next wagon, anxious to reassure himself of Bridget’s safety. Only then would he ask what had delayed them.

Bridget leaned out from the interior of the wagon. He could tell the instant she spotted him because she gathered her skirts and hopped down, striding toward him in long, sure steps. Even clothed in the colorful Tinkler garb, she looked every bit the warrior princess. Determination and self-confidence shone in her every move.

An unfamiliar excitement rumbled through his veins at the sight of her. Relief, like as not, that his efforts to save her hadn’t gone to waste.

She stopped and rested her hands on her hips, waiting for him to reach her, her chin lifted as if for confrontation. For some odd reason, he’d expected a smile to greet him. Odder still was the twinge of disappointment he felt when she didn’t offer it up.

“He’s dead, then,” she said with great finality, as if there could be no other outcome.

The Shield Maiden was single-minded, bent on revenge for her father’s death at the hands of Torquil MacDowylt.

“Not exactly. At least not yet.”

Trapped in the burning tower, Torquil should have died. Would have, if he’d been only himself.
But the evil that possessed him could not be killed so easily.

“Not yet?” she repeated incredulously. “Then what in the name of the Seven are you doing here, lollygagging about?”

Good question. Now that he’d found her safe, his business here was almost finished, and as soon as his questions were answered, he’d be on his way.

“Hunting for you.” When he should have been on the trail of the missing treasures. “Where have you been?” he demanded. “The whole of Castle MacGahan is disquieted with worry over your safety.”