Page 62 of Cherished By A Highlander

Ena glanced at The Monk for permission.

“Go,” he said, and the woman fled, though he paid her no mind. His attention was on his wife, seeing that her fingers gently probed her wound. He grew more annoyed when he saw how it had begun to bruise. “How bad is it?” he demanded, worried.

Shade heard his concern through his anger. “It is a minor wound, the amount of blood spilled making it appear worse than it is. If you can get all the blood cleaned off it and the dirt, that I can feel on my face, then I can apply honey to it.”

Without any instructions, The Monk grabbed the bucket of water and went outside and dumped it to refill it with fresh rainwater from the barrel. He paid no heed to the stares. He was too much in a hurry to return to Shade. He grabbed clean cloths off a nearby bench and set both on the table, then he moved a bench to place in front of Shade.

His anger had yet to leave him, if anything, it seemed to grow, seeing the harm she had suffered, and he was worried his touch would be far from gentle. He soaked the cloth, then rinsed it and took hold of her chin and began to clean the blood away. She never took her eyes off his face and when she cringed, he cursed, and surprisingly the gentleness in her eyes began to calm him.

With every swipe of the cloth, he realized how much he missed touching her, kissing her, making love to her, but it tormented him to think that he had found such pleasure, such happiness with the woman who may have been responsible for Amara’s death.

He took firm hold of her chin. “I have no right to love you as much as I do.”

Shade was stunned speechless. Never had she expected The Monk to tell her that he loved her before Quint spoke a word of love.

The Monk let go of her chin and dropped his brow to rest against hers. “I have no right to give my heart to another. No right to ache when you are not in my arms. No right to love the intimacy we share. No right to want anything more than to spend the rest of my days with you. I have no right…”

He kissed her, a gentle kiss as if he wasn’t sure if he should kiss her or not and Shade’s heart soared. It may have been only days since he had kissed her, but it felt far longer than that and she had desperately missed his kisses. He let his lips linger on hers as if uncertain yet not wanting to let go.

His hand went to the nape of her neck to grip her there as if he feared she would deny him and his kiss grew stronger. He kissed her with a strength and desire that stole her breath and flared her passion, and she wished they were in their bedchamber.

He ended the kiss so abruptly that it shocked and disappointed her.

He kept a strong hold at the nape of her neck. “I miss kissing you, touching you, being inside you.”

Intimate mages flashed in her head, and she could almost feel him slipping inside her.

He brushed his lips faintly across hers and her eyes fluttered closed when his warm breath whispered near her ear, “I have no right to love you more than I loved Amara.”

The shock of his confession stilled her for a moment and when she finally opened her eyes he was gone.

Ena entered and asked, “He did not harm you, did he?”

Shade smiled softly. “Quint, The Monk, whatever you choose to call him loves me far too much to ever hurt me.”

The Monk stormedthrough the village, a sudden wind whipping around him, grabbing at his cloak and lifting it to make him seem like he had wings. Women mumbled blessings and men stared in awe and fright. The Monk was not a man any one of them would want to fight. He was glad he frightened people away, his anger too raw to talk with anyone.

He loved Shade, but he didn’t realize the depth of his love for her until he’d helped her tend to her wound. He had missed Amara when he was away but nothing like the last three days, he missed Shade, and she was right in front of him. Her touchcomforted like no other and calmed him like no other. One simple touch from her and he knew he was loved. And though he knew Amara loved him and he favored and enjoyed her touch, he never ached for it as he did Shade’s touch. He never thought he would love again, but never would he have ever thought that he would love someone more than he had loved Amara. And that angered him, for he felt he betrayed the love Amara had for him.

Servants scurried when he entered the keep, though his loud shout stopped them. “How do I get to the cells?”

A brave servant lad showed him the way and The Monk descended into what felt like the depths of hell, though no fiery flames greeted him only a foul odor and near darkness if it weren’t for the few torches that barely lit the way. The cell area was not as dark, and The Monk was glad that floor to ceiling iron bars prevented the prisoners from having any privacy. It was an easier way of finding out what more they knew.

The man The Monk planned to kill ran so fast to get to the bars to plead for his life that he tripped and fell to his knees. He stretched his arms out, his hands gripping the iron bars and begged, “Please. Please, sir, don’t kill me. I have a wife and two daughters. They need me. They will starve without me.”

“You’re a dead man, Rufus,” James called out, his face pressed against the bars of his cell. “Asher will see you and your family dead.”

“This is all your fault, James. You told me I would get coins that would last me for a good, long time if I fought for Lord Torrance. You told me once the battle was done, I would get the coins and could return home. You lied.”

“We weren’t done,” James argued.

“The battle was done. That’s all I agreed to. I was to fight the battle and return home. You lied,” Rufus accused again, then tamed the anger in his voice when he looked at The Monk. “I am sorry, sir, I meant your wife no harm. I was angry that I wasgiven no coins and not allowed to return home. I fear for the safety of my family and worry they are starving.”

The Monk would not have given a second thought to his plea, but now between not being there for Amara and how he felt about Shade, the thought that the man’s family could be suffering disturbed him.

“Tell me where your family is so I may have them brought here and see for myself that you speak the truth, only then will I consider letting you live,” The Monk ordered, leaving no room for refusal.

“Don’t be a fool, Rufus. He will not let you live after you harmed his wife,” James urged.

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