MacLean’s guard would be out there. Although like phantoms in the night, his men slithered away, using the dark to their advantage. This was their land, and none knew it as they did.
He’d honor his word to Marie and protect her. Or die trying.
Marie’s heartbeat raced.
MacLean ordered the fire be lit then commanded a band of his men to head deeper into the forest, to circle around and take positions where they could to watch for Archie’s warriors. Hands planted on his hips, MacLean smirked. “Are you content up there, lass?”
She would be if he hadn’t tied her up the moment they’d arrived at camp. Bound and wedged within the high bow of a tree, she couldn’t move for fear of toppling to the hard ground beneath. MacLean had smugly insisted he’d done this for her own good. It was safest for her if she remained out of harm’s way. He’d even pocketed the dirk Archie had given her, and if she could spit out the foul-mouthed gag, she’d scream a warning. She’d never forgive herself if Archie got hurt. This was all her fault.
She glared at MacLean then the fire below. Archie, don’t you dare come. Don’t you—
A warrior burst into the clearing. “Chief, two bands of MacDonalds have arrived, one closely followed by the other.” He gulped in air. “Our men have moved in behind the second band.”
“How far away are they?”
“On the lower ridge.”
So close. She was out of time. She shoved her roped hands hard to the trunk and sawed while MacLean kicked dirt over the fire and doused it. A bare sliver of moonlight trickled through the thick canopy above.
MacLean withdrew his claymore and readied himself.
On his belly, Archie slithered under a bush, taking the utmost care not to make a sound. Once through to the other side, he crouched. MacLean’s men were everywhere. He’d maneuvered up the rise and deep into the midst of them without being spotted. He had to reach MacLean, or at least get as close as he could before he called his men to arms. That arrogant bastard would pay for taking Marie.
He held his position, scanned each direction. The moonlight filtered through, the acrid scent of smoke now gone. Slowly, carefully, he palmed his dirk, all his senses narrowed in on his left.
A shadow moved. One of MacLean’s men. He caught the glint in his adversary’s eye. Archie flung his weapon then sprang and caught the warrior as he fell to the ground, his dirk embedded deep between the man’s eyes. An instant death. No noise. He dragged the fallen warrior to the closest scrub, pulled his dirk free then rolled the body underneath. MacLean wouldn’t rule Islay, not on his watch, nor while he drew breath.
He slipped behind a thick trunk. Beyond, a clearing with a fire doused in the center, beckoned him.
The wait was over, and his blood roared for revenge.
Marie stopped sawing as the forest went eerily quiet. It was as if even the creatures had taken refuge. A shadow passed at the base of a tree near the one she was wedged within. Archie. Every cell in her body was so attuned to him. He was here.
MacLean lifted his claymore high as he prepared to attack.
Her heartbeat hammered out of control.
“About time we meet again, MacLean.” Archie’s voice rumbled low and deadly through the clearing, sending her pulse spiking even higher. One man would walk away from this battle alive, and it had to be Archie.
“I’m sorry, Katherine,” she whispered into her gag. If MacLean died, then so did she and her sister. She should’ve tried harder to get Archie to listen to her.
“About time you got here, MacDonald. The Rhinns shall be mine afore this day is out. I’ve waited a long time for this moment.”
“The Rhinns will never be yours.” Archie edged around the clearing, keeping to the darkest corners. “And I shall prove it afore this day is out.”
She remained perfectly still, not wanting to divert Archie’s attention from the man who would take every advantage of it if she did.
“The Rhinns were lost by my father, but I shall see this land returned to me.” Brow cocked, MacLean swung his sword as if readying himself. “How is my dear sister by the way?”
“Her wellbeing is of no concern of yours, nor has it been for over a decade. Cease the conversation, MacLean. ’Tis time to fight.” Archie lifted his blade and let out a fierce battle cry. It rang in her ears then increased in crescendo as it boomed in every direction around her. His men were everywhere, but then so were MacLean’s.
MacLean came at Archie. Their two great blades clashed dead center and sparked, and the brutal force of the strike sent Archie lurching back a step under the jarring impact. “There is naught I like more than an eager opponent,” MacLean snarled.
“I’m the most eager adversary you’ll find.” Archie shoved against him. “Let’s end this. Now.” He struck MacLean, landing several hard blows. He fought to make ground.
Highlander's Magic (Highlander Heat #2)
Joanne Wadsworth's books
- Highlander's Desire (The Matheson Brothers #1)
- Highlander's Caress (The Fae #2)
- Highlander's Touch: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 3)
- Bodyguard Pursuit (Bodyguards #2)
- Enchanter (Princesses of Myth #3)
- Highlander's Passion (The Matheson Brothers #2)
- Highlander's Bride (The Fae #1)
- Highlander's Castle (Highlander Heat #1)
- Highlander's Charm (Highlander Heat #3)
- Highlander's Faerie (Highlander Heat #5)
- Highlander's Guardian (Highlander Heat #4)
- Highlander's Heart (Clan Matheson #2)