Mortal Magick Read Online Free PDF Page A

side shimmered up at him. He spied a pair of delicate crossed golden arrows. They ran through the middle of the embossed letter ‘W.’
    He grinned, raking his fingers through his hair in disbelief. Though the lass appeared scrawny, he understood looks could be deceiving. He knew well enough from his own transformation. “Aye, only a spirited, fine warrior can possess the likes of a trophy as grand as this.”

Chapter 3
    Keara’s fingers sank into long, soft tassels and she tucked the cover tighter under her chin. She was freezing. She snuggled deeper beneath the heavy blanket. Beth must have the air-conditioner turned on full blast. Her nose and cheeks felt as cold as icicles. Something hard was poking at her butt. The mattress was a lot firmer than normal. Her nose wrinkled. What in heaven’s name is that damn smell?
    She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Instead of the vanilla-cream-painted ceiling in her bedroom she normally woke up to, her eyelids fluttered open to discover cotton-ball clouds floating in the midst of a clear-blue sky directly overhead. She bolted upright. In place of the pretty, quilted comforter Beth just bought on sale from Boscov’s, she stared at the shaggy animal pelt draped over her. And it reeked.
    Her hand slowly traveled down her backside. She was half-afraid to discover what the stiff item was poking her in the ass. She clutched the item, a jagged stone, which cut her palm. She winced. A warm trickle of blood ran down her fingers. She shook her hand and cursed under her breath as she watched the rock skip across the ground after giving it a good toss.
    She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to recall what happened. The last thing she could remember was discussing Highlanders and romance novels with Beth and getting a terrible headache. She must have blacked out. Her fingers gently rubbed the substantial lump on the back of her scalp. Everything else seemed a fuzzy blur except the strange dreams about a gigantic beast carrying her in his arms.
    Nothing appeared familiar. There were no signs of people, houses, or roads close by. Just herds of sheep grazing in open green meadows filled with wildflowers. The perfect setting for a picture postcard. Thick forest glens and snowcapped velvet mountains in the distance stretched for miles.
    Keara jumped when she heard the warm, rich sounds of laughter. The heavy pelt fell from her grip. She was stripped naked! A faint gasp escaped her quivering lips. A bulky nightshirt that had obvious seen better days now covered her. She eyed the sharp rock she’d just discarded. It lay in front of a small, crackling fire. She grabbed the stone and hid it beneath the sheepskin for the time being. It might come in handy as a weapon .
    She scanned the area for her clothes. Strange animal tracks led away from the fire toward a boulder. The hoofmarks were soon replaced by human footprints.
    Something weird was definitely going on here. There had to be a logical explanation for this. She was probably just hallucinating.
    A goliath of a man stood roughly fifty feet away. She focused on his firm, muscular legs spread wide apart. He was helping a teenage boy pull back a taut bowstring. She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. She reopened them. No, she wasn’t imagining it. Both of them wore odd skirts of some sort. An old-style kilt possibly?
    The older guy most definitely exuded pure masculinity. Even with a skirt. The man wore nothing else, other than a pair of corded, wrapped leather boots.
    His massive, broad shoulders must’ve been a yard wide. She bit her lip and gazed at the rippling muscles that streamed down his powerful, bare tanned arms. Her face warmed, taking in his tempting, well-sculpted male physique. A head full of light-brown hair hung low and brushed the top of his shoulders. She could only imagine what he’d looked like once he turned around. His too-perfect body couldn’t possibly be blessed with a rugged handsome face to match.
    From the