Page 58 of Cherished By A Highlander

“As tired as I am and with how much I need to sleep, I need even more to understand why my husband allows The Monk to be so angry with me to the point where I can almost feel his hatred for me. What happened last night that my husband Quint finds it so difficult to return to me?”

Shade went and sat on the bed and removed her shoes and wanted to remove her stockings, but it seemed too much of an intimate gesture in front of The Monk. She pressed the bottoms of her feet on the wood floor to try and ease the aches out of them and a chill raced through her, along with a shiver.

The Monk launched himself out of the chair so forcefully that Shade drew back. He moved the chair in front of the hearth, then went to Shade, grabbed hold of her arm and all but propelled her to the chair, forcing her to sit.

“Warm yourself,” he ordered.

Shade kept her smile from surfacing, pleased that The Monk hadn’t completely devoured Quint. But then she should have remembered simply by seeing Ula tend to her husband… loveheld the most power to heal. And love was beginning to break through The Monk’s defenses.

“Please, Quint, I miss you terribly. Please tell me what happened that fired The Monk’s rage, so we can quell it.”

He was eager to talk and even more eager to quell his rage, but he feared what he might discover would enrage him even more. “I met a man who told me who was responsible for Amara’s death.”

Shade gasped. “Oh, my goodness, That’s wonderful, Quint. You will finally have all your answers and will be able to lay this to rest.”

The anger that rose in his eyes surprised her and filled her with dread. It grew as he stepped in front of the chair and braced his hands on either side of her, trapping her there as he brought his face close to hers.

“Aren’t you going to ask me who it is?” he whispered harshly.

“Who?” Shade asked oddly uncomfortable with him being so close and it grew when he suddenly sneered.

“You, dear wife. It is you.”

Her breath locked in her chest at his accusation, and she found herself unable to breathe, she was so stunned. She fought to breathe and the more she did the more she felt as if someone was choking the life from her.

Quint realized she couldn’t catch her breath, and he drew back to give her room and ordered, “Breathe!” When she continued to struggle, he grabbed her and forced her to her feet. “Bloody hell, Shade, BREATHE!” Fear gripped him and the only thing he could think of doing was to give her his own breath. He covered her mouth with his.

The shock of his lips on hers had her gasping and her breath released, though they were short rapid breaths, but at least now she was able to breathe.

“Easy, slow,” Quint advised and gently lifted her into his arms and went and sat on the bed, placing her on his lap.

His accusation had stolen her breath, but his strength and genuine worry were helping to restore it. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder and let her eyes drift closed, feeling the familiar comfort of his arms. But his accusation had to be faced and addressed.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her breathing still labored.

“Do not speak until you have regained your full breath,” he ordered, sounding far too annoyed, though it wasn’t directed at this wife. He was annoyed with himself for causing this ordeal and frightening the hell out of himself.

“Tell me,” she urged.

“Only if you promise not to say a word as I do, so your breathing can ease.”

Shade nodded.

He took his time explaining so his wife would have time to regain her breath. He started from the time he arrived in the woods to see the MacLeish warriors ready to fight, explaining they would have lost, up until he was left alone with the large man who appeared to lead the small number of warriors.

“The big fellow confirmed that Asher does search for me. Not a word!” he warned when she looked about to speak. “I know you would ask what I did. What does he want with me?”

Shade nodded, anxious to hear all of it and make sense of the unsensible accusation.

“Asher wants to see the mission finished.” Quint watched his wife’s brow pucker and knew her thoughts since his had been the same. “I asked what mission.”

Shade nodded again, though worried when anger flared in his eyes.

“He told me that Asher ordered the men to kill Amara. She was meant to die. She was the target from the start, not me?”

Shade’s mouth dropped open in shock and her eyes filled with sorrow for him. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was for him, for Amara, but he hurried to continue talking, and she worried that he didn’t want to hear her sympathetic words.

“The mission changed sometime after that. Asher now hunts me though the fellow didn’t know why, nor does he know who ordered the mission. I knew by questioning him that he had to be one of the men who took part in Amara’s killing. He was the last man I searched for out of the group of men that were there that day.”

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