Page 48 of Craved By a Highland Beast

Is he huntin’ or is he hunted?

Something told Bonnie the latter was more likely. Evan said nothing, perhaps not wanting to alarm her, but Bonnie was alarmed nevertheless. She, too, began to look around, wondering if she could see whatever it was that he was seeing. To her left, Ruthven continued his leisurely ride, showing no signs of concern.

Perhaps there is nae reason fer concern. Ruthven kens these parts better than anyone. If somethin’ was wrong, he would ken, surely.

And yet now that all her senses were alert, Bonnie couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. The short hairs at the back of her neck stood straight, a shiver running through her that left her feeling chilled to the bone in a way that had nothing to do with the gentle breeze.

This is a thick part o’ the forest. If someone were tae attack us, this is where they would dae it.

And yet no attack came. The forest only became thicker and thicker, the tree branches growing closer together. Sparse sunlight shone through the lattice of the leaves, dappled and dim, shadows growing dark and long around them.

“Is there nae other way tae reach the loch?” she asked. This seemed like a dangerous path, one which should be avoided if possible.

“There is,” Ruthven said. “But it is much longer. It goes around the forest an’ takes hours. This way is the fastest.”

It made sense, then, Bonnie thought, that Ruthven would choose this one. They didn’t have all day ahead of them, after all. They were meant to be back before nightfall.

From the corner of her eye, Bonnie saw Evan looking at her, his gaze flitting back and forth between her face and her bow—a silent warning.

Bonnie’s hand hovered just over her bow as the first arrow whizzed past her head. The sound of it splitting the air right next to her ear forced her to freeze for a moment, every muscle in her body seizing up in shock, her breath rushing out of her lungs in a terrified exhale. Immediately after, though, her bow was in her hand, along with an arrow that she quickly strung, firing it towards the general direction of her attacker with no hesitation.

In the chaos, she didn’t know where the archer was, but it didn’t matter. She only wanted to create a distraction, to make it harder for the other to find the mark.

Within seconds, more arrows followed, coming from several directions. A cry tumbled out of Bonnie’s lips as some of them came too close, her horse—now filled with terror—rearing at the face of imminent threat.

“Stay behind me!” Evan called as he positioned himself between her and the arrows, grunting as he tried to steer his equally fearful horse into position. It was no easy task, keeping them from running away towards any direction they wished, and as much as Bonnie tried to keep her balance on her mare while stringing another arrow, she was close to slipping off her saddle with every movement the horse made.

“Bonnie!” Ruthven called. It was the first time he had called her by her given name, and even in the middle of the fight, Bonnie couldn’t help but think it sounded odd, coming from him. “Come with me, quickly!”

As he spoke, Ruthven made to turn back and head out of the forest, towards the castle, but Bonnie refused to move. She was not going to follow Ruthven, the two of them fleeing. She was not going to leave Evan there alone.

Instead of responding, she began to fire arrow after arrow once more, taking the chance when Evan came close and grabbed the reins, steering both their horses expertly. Suddenly, unburdened by the task of keeping her mare still, Bonnie could focus on picking out her targets where they were hidden between the trees. One of them was to their right, she saw—a man whose arrows landed too close for comfort. Taking a deep breath, she aimed and let her arrow fly through the air, hitting her target fractions of a second later.

The man collapsed immediately, but the rain of arrows didn’t stop. Neither did Ruthven’s shouts as he commanded Bonnie to follow him, his voice ringing clearly in her ears even as sheignored him. Evan, on the other hand, remained silent save for the grunts of effort as he controlled the horses, using his body as a shield for Bonnie.

She had to take out the others quickly. One of those arrows could find their target in Evan at any moment.

She spotted another man up in one of the trees ahead, standing on a sturdy branch. From where she sat on her horse, Bonnie had a clear view of him, and all she needed to do was twist her body to the left, firing another arrow. When he moved, though, to grab another of his own, Bonnie’s flew straight past him, embedding itself on the tree trunk behind him, splinters flying everywhere.

In the time it took the man to utter a curse, Bonnie had reached for another arrow, this time determined not to miss. The horses’ hooves were deafening as they stomped against the ground, demanding to be released from Evan’s control—so was Ruthven’s voice, echoing all around them. Still, Bonnie shut everything but her target out, exhaling as she let the arrow fly and tear through the man’s chest, sending him tumbling to the ground.

There was only one archer left, she knew. He was somewhere up ahead of them and her gaze scanned the area around them, looking into the bushes and the trees for any sign of him.

“I dinnae see him!” she called, hoping Evan or at least Ruthven could spot him.

It took a few moments of futile search before Evan shouted, “There! In the bushes!”

Bonnie followed Evan’s directions, catching a glimpse of the last archer in a thicket several meters ahead of them. Relieved, she strung one last arrow, sending it towards the man.

Her relief was short-lived. Just as the arrow left her grip, a searing pain exploded in her shoulder, a cry of agony tearing itself through her chest. When she looked down, she saw blood trickling steadily down, soaking her tunic, an arrow sticking out of her right under the end of her clavicle.

No pain she had ever experienced could compare to this. The muscles torn by the arrow’s tip burned, the ache radiating down her arm and chest. The bow fell from her hand, her fingers letting go of their grip on their own accord, and her vision began to go dark at the edges with every pulse of pain that shot through her.

Distantly, she heard Evan call her name, but with every passing moment, his voice grew dimmer and the ringing in her ears louder. The last thing she felt before darkness finally swallowed her was her body slipping off the saddle of her horse. Before she met the ground, the world went dark.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Time trickled by like water falling in slow drops from the edge of a leaf. Hour after hour, Evan sat by Bonnie’s bed in the healer’s quarters, praying that she would wake up, but every time he looked at her, she still had her eyes closed, far away from the world. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead and blood had already soaked through the cloth with which the healer had bound her shoulder.

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