She carried the seed of rebirth, so what had fallen would rise again. The ghost of her ancestor sent Druidess Tanwen from Britannia to the strange foreign tribe of the Caledonii to wed Brude, son of the chief. But Brude is not about to marry a druidess, even though she has the most beautiful body he’s ever seen. Never mind if his blood boils and he can’t stop thinking of her. He will not wed her. Yet the fate of Caledonia rests in the hands of the Warrior and the Druidess. Will they put their differences aside to fulfill their destiny?
Tanwen walked through the wheat field. Half willow tree, half fey was the only description that fit. Tall but lithe, her red hair waving in the wind, streaming down her slender body. Her skin was still pale blue from the woad, giving her the appearance of an enchantress, summoned from the other world to bless the crops.
Everyone gazed at her as she walked forward and halted at a stalk. She plucked an ear of wheat and rolled the grain between her finger and thumb as Lossio had done. “It is plump and yielding.” She stared at Brude with an intense gaze that set his insides on fire. “Yes, it is time.”
A cheer went up from everyone, but Brude was captured by her gaze and couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to. He wanted to step forward, scoop her up into his arms, and carry her off to his bed. By the gods, the druidess had enchanted him.
He did not say a word to Tanwen, nor she to him, but she turned her head and flipped her red hair across her back as she walked off.