Page 36 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
In an instant, the concealed head of the figure turned and saw him in the shadows.Roderick hissed a couple of words under his breath when the figure immediately made a run for it down the passageway, boots slapping loudly against the stone floor.
The figure moved faster than Roderick had anticipated, and he sprung himself into action chasing, almost blindly in the dark, his right hand gripping his dagger.
Roderick caught up with the figure and tackled the stranger to the ground.
His breath came in sharp bursts as he wrestled with the stranger, both of them grappling across the floor. Roderick’s dagger had been knocked from his hand in the chaos, and now his fingers gripped the stranger’s shirt, trying to hold the person in place. The stranger kicked its legs out, throwing Roderick off balance, and in an instant, he fell to the ground.
He looked back to reach for his dagger, the passageway behind him illuminated by Moira’s light. She was creeping toward them, with a dagger of her own.
Roderick didn’t have time to think. He grasped his dagger from the floor and turned back to the figure, who he now saw was running away, further into the darkness ahead.
Roderick hissed, picking himself back up and racing forward toward the noise. He charged at the figure at full speed, his dagger in hand as he let out a cry. Roderick surged forward, and with a sudden, fluid movement, pierced the dagger into what seemed to be the back of the stranger’s leg.
The stranger faltered slightly, but escaped Roderick’s grasp, turning off into a side path. The sound of footsteps slowly quietening as it moved further and further away.
Roderick sprung back up, his eyes adjusting more and more to the darkness as he moved in the direction he believed the figure had gone. He saw one pathway, and then another. He turned around in a circle as he realized he’d reached a point that led to many different passages, each one shrouded in darkness.
He hissed, banging one hand against the stone in frustration that the figure had gotten away.
He walked back dejectedly towards where he had last seen Moira, his eyes scanning the passageways one last time before he turned. He was frustrated, but he was also cautious and wanted to make sure she was safe.
“Roderick,” she whispered, her eyes wide as he came toward her.
Roderick clenched his jaw, placing his dagger back into his belt. His eyes traveled up and down her body to make sure that she wasn’t harmed in any way.
“Why did ye move from where I told ye to stay?” He demanded. “It could have been dangerous. Are ye alright?”
Moira didn’t respond but somehow Roderick knew what she was going to say. He knew she’d tell him that she was no stranger to dangerous situations, or that she could handle herself. But he didn’t car. Even more than wanting to capture the strange, Roderick needed to know that she was unharmed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Moira’s heart raced, as she looked up at Roderick, who was breathing heavily, a deep cut running down his left cheek. She had tried to stay where she was as Roderick had commanded, but when she had heard all the noise coming from down the hall, she couldn’t just stand and listen.
She had to help.
What if something had happened to him? It had been Moira’s idea to go down the passageways in the first place, and she couldn’t have lived with herself if something happened to Roderick.
Rather than answering his question, she reached out a hand and brought it to his cheek. She wiped the blood away, and her fingers lingering there for a moment, gentle against his skin.
He was brave, she knew that, but the way he looked at her, as though he were a wounded warrior, pierced her soul.
His skin felt hot beneath her fingertips. She should have moved away, she was lingering for too long. But she couldn’t, she felt something like a lightning current from where their skins touched all the way up her arm, to her chest.
Something felt too desperate inside her, toogood.
His eyes softened, and he nestled his face on her soft, soothing hand.
“Moira…” he murmured, his voice rough, but there was a softness there, one that matched her own.
“We should get out o’ here,” she said, regaining herself, before he had a chance to speak. “This cut needs tae be cleaned up.”
“Aye,” he said. “It is nae safe. Let us go tae me chambers, I ken the way from here, it is just down the passageway tae the right.”
Moira nodded, reluctantly, removing her hand from his wounded skin.
She followed him through the halls, this time walking by his side as they moved in silence.
The air between them had changed.
