Warrior of the Isles Read Online Free Page A

assured.”
    Syrena didn’t know what shocked her more. The fact her father appeared to be in the company of angels, or that he had been murdered. Her fierce and powerful father brought down by the juice of a berry.
    She swallowed before she made her heartfelt offer. “I will avenge you, Father.”
    He gave a contemptuous snort. “You . . . avenge me?”
    Her cheeks heated. “If not me, then whom?”
    His gaze softened, a faraway look in his eyes. “My son.”
    â€œBut . . . but you have no son,” Syrena protested quietly, afraid to draw his wrath.
    â€œAh, but I do. The angels have shown him to me.” His handsome face crumpled. “If only I had known whilst I lived, but no, even that they took from me, hiding his essence so I would not learn of his existence.”
    Never before had Syrena seen her father grieve, but it was obvious he did so now—for his son. Her chest ached. How could a child he’d never known hold a place of honor in his heart? What was wrong with her that she could not?
    â€œHold out your hands,” he demanded.
    Startled, Syrena looked up at him. She rubbed her damp palms against her pale pink robes then complied with his wishes. She commanded her hands to remain steady, but they trembled nonetheless.
    Her father shook his head and cursed. “I cannot think why they chose you for this task,” his tone scathing as his gaze raked her from head to toe. “Hardly bigger than a sprite, and afraid of your own shadow.” It wasn’t true. Only her father frightened her, her father and the Fae men, but she had good reason to be afraid.
    â€œFools, that’s what they are.” He stumbled as though pushed.
    Syrena gritted her teeth to keep her chin from quivering and blinked away the moisture that gathered in her eyes. If the angels had chosen her for the task, he had no right to deny her.
    King Arwan lifted the Sword of Nuada. She gasped as sunlight glinted off the precious stones embedded in the hilt, sending out a rainbow of light.
    He placed the golden sword in her hands and she staggered under its weight. It took every ounce of her strength to hold it steady. A warm glow seeped through her hands and up her arms. It was as though the sword was alive, imbuing her with its magick. For the first time in Syrena’s life she felt powerful, fearless.
    She stood tall and lifted her gaze to her father. “What is it you would have me do?” she asked with a confidence she didn’t know she possessed, at least in her father’s presence. King Arwan appeared as surprised as she was. Syrena knew then that she would never give up the golden sword.
    He narrowed his eyes on her before he spoke. “You will seek out your brother and bring him back to the Enchanted Isles, where he will take his rightful place as king.”
    She stiffened. “But I hold the sword. You gave it to me. I’m as much your heir as he is,” she protested.
    â€œA woman cannot lead, especially one as weak as you. My choice is made. You will find your brother and relinquish the sword.”
    No, not the sword , she wanted to cry out, but instead asked, “How? I don’t know who or where he is?”
    Her father’s massive warrior’s body shimmered then faded. Particles of gold dust danced in the sunlight. The deep rumble of his voice echoed through the trees. “His name is Lachlan MacLeod. He lives in the Mortal realm on the Isle of Lewis. Find him, Syrena, and bring him home.”
    The unfairness of his edict was painful and she vowed to prove to her father that she, too, was worthy of his love. To find Lachlan, a brother who would assuage the loneliness she’d endured since the loss of her mother. They were family. They would love and protect each other. A sense of purpose surged through her at the thought, and she raised the sword high above her head. This was her destiny.
    She would not falter.
    She would not