Page 111 of Intrigued By A Highlander

Screams followed. Warriors shouted. Livestock scattered. Complete chaos reigned.

Knox was already running toward Dru.

“Stay in your cottage,” Dru warned Mara and took off running toward Knox.

He’d barely taken a few steps when warriors poured out of the woods, overtaking the village in mere moments.

Knox’s blood ran cold. He had to get to Dru.

He drew his sword as warriors descended on him and he fought like a wild man slashing one after the other as he battled his way to Dru.

A group of riders suddenly charged from the opposite flank—silent, swift, and precise. MacFadin defenders scrambled, caught between the burning chaos and the sudden breach.

Knox battled harder, seeing his wife, ducking and slipping past warriors who grabbed for as she ran toward him.

A blow to his side knocked the breath from his lungs. Another came from behind. He swung wildly, cutting down one attacker, but more pressed in. He glimpsed Dru—fighting wildly to reach him.

“DRU!” he roared.

Two warriors slammed into her, driving her to her knees.

She screamed, not in fear but in fury for him, “KNOX!”

A warrior struck her temple with the hilt of his sword and his name died on her lips as she dropped to the ground.

Knox surged forward, blood in his mouth, rage in his heart. He didn’t feel the strikes that landed. He only saw his wife lying helpless on the ground as darkness claimed him.

Dru stirredagainst the cold earth, her body aching, her thoughts heavy and muddled. It took a moment before the weight of memory slammed into her—capture, struggle, the sound of Knox’s voice calling for her before it was cut off.

She jerked upright, her hands going to rest on the ground as a bout of dizziness hit her. Once she could focus, she tried to stand.

A boot nudged her shoulder roughly. “Stay down.”

Memories flashed in her mind. Callan’s men. The attack, Knox trying frantically to reach her. Darkness. She had been taken prisoner. But Knox would come for her. He would always find her no matter what. Her task was to stay alive, and if escape proved possible, take the chance.

She glanced around seeing far too many warriors to even think of escaping, at least for the moment. As she finished her perusal, she almost gasped. Not far from her, Knox lay on his side, unfettered and motionless. Fear gripped her like an iron band, not seeing the slightest movement. Was he dead? Had she lost him? She sent a silent prayer to the heavens not to take him from her.

She kept her eyes on him and caught the way his fingers flexed against the moss. Her heart fluttered as if skipping a beat. He was alive… and he was waiting.

Two warriors stood guard over him, laughing about something too low to hear. Dru watched, remaining silent, knowing her husband would not let either of them stop him from reaching her.

In one caught breath, he moved.

Surging up, Knox grabbed the nearest man by the shirt and slammed his head into the tree with a dull thud. The second had just enough time to widen his eyes before Knox’s fist connected with his jaw. The man dropped like a sack of grain.

Knox was beside Dru in two strides, lifting her and taking her in his arms.

“Are you hurt?”

“Just bruised. You?”

“Not enough to matter.”

A sharp shout cut through the woods. Callan emerged from the shadows, sword in hand, and his expression unreadable. More warriors surrounded them now, weapons drawn—but none approached.

Callan’s mouth curled into something almost like a smile.

“Let them be,” he ordered, voice cold. “They’ll be separated soon enough, and permanently.”

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