In the nick of time he pulled his feet together and pointed his toes. He crashed into waves as though he’d slammed into a stone wall at full tilt. Icy salt water engulfed him, attacking with the sting of a thousand wasps made even more excruciating by the freezing snow of Ben Nevis in winter. His breath rushed from his lungs as he fought for the surface, keeping the dagger tight in his fist. As his head popped through the water, musket balls pierced the waves around him with sharp slaps, far sharper than the pattering raindrops on his face.

Taking in a deep breath, Kennan dived under, using every bit of remaining strength to swim away from his beloved Highland Reel. When he next surfaced, the ship had sailed too far for the sights of a musket. Waves crashed over his head while he treaded water, searching for survivors. And, as his teeth chattered, he spotted not a soul. Damn. Any men still alive would have started swimming two or three leagues back. And it didn’t take a seer to know when a man found himself overboard in waters this cold, he’d be lucky to survive for an hour.

If there are any survivors.

His stomach roiled, though all trepidation vanished at the sight of a dark gray dorsal fin fast approaching from the north. Then another. And another.

Still clenching the dagger in his fist, he faced the sharks head-on.

Chapter Two

Divana tossed a clam into her basket, then took a moment of respite, leaning on her shovel and brushing the tendrils of hair away from her face. The sea was rough after the storm, and the wind still blew a gale. Though on Hyskeir, the wind never stopped. At best it was breezy, and oft blowing so hard that she had to lean forward and fight to walk a straight line. She ought to be accustomed to it by now.

But she wasn’t.

Mayhap one day I’ll be rescued from this isle and travel to a place where ’tis warm and sunny.

Of course on the Hebridean isle, the only warmth and sun she ever experienced was the odd summer’s day, but it never lasted more than a fleeting moment.

As she returned to her work, a sudden bout of gooseflesh rose upon her skin, and an odd sensation prickled her neck, as if caressed by the breath of a ghost.

Inhaling sharply, she gazed out over the dark and menacing swells of the sea. Something glimmered on the water—something with eyes. Her heart stuttered as she stepped forward for a better glimpse, but as the waves crested and fell, the sea creature vanished.

“Mischievous selkie,” she mumbled, pushing her shovel into the sand. No, Divana didn’t really believe in mystical creatures. If they did exist, she doubted she’d have been stranded on Hyskeir for so long without earning a wee bit of kindness. The fairy folk surely ought to see good in her heart by now. Oh, to imagine if they took her away on a fantastical adventure. Perhaps, if they were real, she would have been taken to the fairy kingdom to marry a handsome prince.