Highlander's Heart (Clan Matheson #2)

“Tell me his name!” The thunderous roar echoed from up ahead along the shoreline.

“There they are.” Tavish jabbed a finger and Tor found the outline of two people on the beach before the glittering water, one towering menacingly over the other.

He sprinted across the moors, his heartbeat a raging mess. Over the sand dunes, he bounded then with a fierce battle cry and his head down, he rammed into Donnan MacDonald and sent them both skittering across the sand.





Chapter 5


Layla screamed as Tor roared and crashed into Donnan. The two men went flying, sprayed sand as they rolled across the beach then pulled apart and heaved to their feet. Tor swung his sword from his side scabbard and Donnan whipped his claymore from the baldric across his back.

The two came together with a mighty crash of their great blades.

Steel sparked, the brutal force of their strike sending both of them lurching back a step under the jarring impact. “There is naught I like more than an eager opponent,” Donnan snarled.

“I’m beyond eager.” Tor thrust his sword high and blocked Donnan’s next swift blow.

“I take it you’re the man my betrothed is soul bound to?” Donnan’s eyes blazed with hatred, a fierce and fiery look that spoke of intended retribution.

“Aye, the name’s Tor Matheson.” Tor shoved against him. “Layla is my mate and only mine.” He struck hard and fast, landing several hard blows as he fought to push Donnan farther from her and toward the waves lapping into shore.

“You both have to cease this fighting.” She hurried forward but Tavish swept her up from behind and carried her backward to safety. “Let me go, Tavish.”

“This is Tor’s fight, not yours,” Tavish rasped in her ear as he set her down on her feet, gripped her arms from behind. “Let him deal with Donnan. Trust him. My brother won’t fail you.”

“I won’t have my kinsmen go to war against clan MacDonald because of me.” She thrashed against Tavish. “Tor, please, halt this madness.”

Donnan swung and Tor met the staggering blow, although it knocked him to his knees, his blade and Donnan’s crossing a mere inch from his nose. Tor’s arms shook as he gripped his great sword and heaved back to his feet.

“Keep Layla with you and out of this fight,” Tor yelled at Tavish.

“I’ll keep her safe.”

Tor cast her a look. “We’ll be talking, the moment this battle is done.”

“Just keep your eyes on the fight.”

“Aye, you should never lose sight of your opponent.” Donnan shot forward and landed a vicious blow on Tor’s left.

Tor shuddered under the impact and fought back. She wanted to use her skill to tear them both apart, but they moved so brutally fast she’d likely do more harm than good if she tried to separate them.

“Layla will be my wife, and afore this day is out. I’ll ensure it.” Donnan swung, each of his strikes slamming home with deadlier intent.

“Like hell she will.” Tor met each of Donnan’s blows, one after the other. Their weapons clashed, the heavy peal of steel on steel ringing fiercely in her ears. Over and over, they came at each other, Donnan landing several solid blows before Tor did the same with Donnan.

“You clearly favor your right side, Matheson.” Donnan twirled and attacked on Tor’s left, each hit stronger than the last.

“I favor no side.” Tor switched sword hands and fought on. Sweat beaded his brow as he gained back ground and pushed Donnan back. “What of you?”

“I favor a win, however that may be achieved, which means I will have your head. No one steals my betrothed away from me and lives to speak of it.” Donnan swung his claymore and Tor defended then struck himself. They were so evenly matched, in power, height, and skill, neither man prepared to relinquish any hold over the other.

A horn trumpeted from the direction of the encampment and two heavily armed warriors galloped down the beach toward them, their Matheson plaids flapping about their legs. Gerald rode at the head, one of their garrison’s captains and her father’s closest confidant.

“Gerald!” she yelled and waved. “Please, you have to stop this fight.”

Gerald bounded from his war horse and circled the battling men. “What’s the meaning of this, Tor?”

“Don’t come any closer.” Tor rocked on his heels and blocked Donnan’s next fierce strike then dropped low, rolled clear and came up behind him. He swung and Donnan barely caught the staggering blow. Donnan fell to his knees and Tor slid his sword right up against Donnan’s throat. “Concede to your defeat,” he barked. “Layla is my mate, the woman I intend to wed.”

“You’ll never wed her while she’s betrothed to me.” Donnan’s arms shook as he tried to keep Tor’s blade from slicing into him.