Page 43 of Loving Graystoke's Heir

“Stop!” She threw up her arm to try to ward Donal off. “Stop, please!”

But trying to stop him was like waving a flag in front of a runaway train.

There was no telling how big the silverback was, but he blocked out the moonlight, and she couldn’t believe how beautiful he was as well as terrifying. It was hard to imagine that behind those shining black eyes was a man.

Her man.

Before Rikard could lift the rifle, the silver back’s giant hands snapped the barrel in two. It was a shock to see the sight, but it was also fierce and breathtaking.

“Tell me I’m seeing things!” Amahle bent down beside Tamsin and helped her to her feet as the hunter battled the silverback blow by blow. “Is that really Donal?”

What else could Tamsin say but the truth. “That’s him.”

“I can’t believe it,” Amahle’s voice was almost a whisper. “How could we not know?”

Tamsin didn’t know how to answer her. She didn’t know what to think herself. It still felt like a dream.

Another round of gunfire echoed in the brush, and Amahle gave her a quick pat on her shoulder before dashing off with the others.

But Tamsin couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away.

She knew deep down inside that everything could change at any moment.

Donal was strong. He was agile.

But David Rikard had something on his side.

A kind of maniacal glee that came from pain. She’d seen it in him before, but at that moment she could see the way his eyes lit up as he landed a solid blow on Donal’s shoulder.

The sickening crack of bone echoed through the clearing, and distressed cries and whines descended from the trees.

A turn in fortune saw Donal beat Rikard back, pushing him away and into the trunk of a tree. Hoots and approving grunts rained down around them, but Tamsin couldn’t look up, couldn’t look away.

She saw the wicked gleam of a knife winking in the moonlight as Rikard staggered forward and dropped to his knees.

Donal must have thought that Rikard was down.

Beaten.

But he didn’t see… he couldn’t see…

And she didn’t know if there was time to tell Donal, to warn him.

No. His eyes were raised up into the trees.

His victorious roar was echoed and multiplied by what sounded like hundreds of gorillas, the noise shaking the trees, raining leaves down from the canopy that was nearly invisible in the dark.

The silverback pounded on his chest, the sound reverberating through her body.

It felt like concussions hitting her body, buffeting her back, pushing her down, but there were more forces at work than Donal’s victorious display.

She saw Rikard struggle to get to his feet, likely suffering the same effects that she was.

“Donal!” Tamsin threw out an arm, reaching out, pointing at Rikard, but no one seemed to hear. No one seemed to notice. Everyone was staring at the massive silverback in the clearing.

No. No. No.

Tamsin fought against the pulses of air, using her fear as a weapon of her own.

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