Page 34 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
Hooves.
Edin froze, her fingers tightening around the reins. Finley caught the change in her posture and turned slightly, his brows drawing together. The sound was faint, but unmistakable — the steady approach of riders in the distance.
“Who would be takin’ this road?” she murmured, eyes narrowing as she searched the shadows between the trees.
Finley exhaled sharply, his grip on the reins relaxed but deliberate. “Ye’re thinkin’ too much on it,” he said. “We’re nae alone in these woods. Could be travelers, could be hunters.”
She wanted to believe that. But her instincts twisted against the idea like a knife in a wound.
The hooves grew louder. Faster. Not the even gait of a peaceful rider, but something erratic.
Edin’s pulse jumped. “They dinnae sound friendly,” she said, her voice low.
Finley hesitated, then gave a single nod. “Aye.”
Edin turned her head sharply, eyes locking onto the two figures closing in from behind. Recognition struck her like ice to the spine.
The men from the village.
A curse burned at the back of her throat. “Shite,” she hissed.
Finley had seen them too. His expression turned grim, jaw tightening as he urged his horse forward. “We need tae go.”
Edin’s heart raced, pounding in her ears as the two men bore down on them. Her gaze flicked between them and Finley, her body coiled tight with tension. The very air around her felt thick and heavy with danger.
“Stay back,” Finley growled, his eyes dark with determination. His voice was low, fierce. “I’ll handle this.”
He spurred his horse forward, moving to meet the attackers head-on. She wanted to argue, wanted to fight beside him, but she knew better. Finley was no stranger to combat, and the last thing she needed was to be a distraction.
But the moment the first blow landed, the moment the sharp crack of a fist hitting bone split the air, Edin’s instincts kicked in. She took a step forward, and then hesitated.
“Stay there, Edin,” Finley shouted, his back turned to her now as he grappled with the first man. “Ye’ll just get in the way!”
She grit her teeth, hands twitching toward the dagger at her belt.
But her hesitation lasted only a moment.
The second man — tall and broad-shouldered — came at her, a malicious grin stretching across his face. She could see the glint in his eyes — he thought he had won. He didn’t see her as a threat.
He was wrong.
Before he could reach her, she shifted, fluid as water, her movements a blur. Her dagger slipped from its sheath, the steel flashing in the pale light as she aimed for his throat. But he was quicker, his hand snapping out to seize her wrist in a bruising grip.
“Ye think ye can?—”
Before he could finish his taunt, she drove the dagger into his leg, just above the knee. His eyes widened in shock, his grip faltering as he staggered back.
Finley’s sword cut through the first man, a fluid motion that ended the fight in an instant. He didn’t waste a moment, spinning to face the second attacker, his sword raised high.
But the second man had already recovered. His grip on Edin’s wrist tightened, dragging her forward with terrifying force. Hisrough hands closed around her neck, fingers digging into her flesh.
“Ye’ll pay fer that, lass,” he snarled, his breath hot and foul against her skin.
Edin’s world tilted, her vision dimming for a moment as the pressure on her throat increased. She gasped, her hands clawing at his, but it was no use. He was too strong, and the darkness was creeping in from the edges of her mind.
“Edin!” Finley’s voice sliced through the fog in her brain, harsh and desperate.
With one final, desperate surge, she thrust the dagger upward, into his side, feeling it sink deep. His breath left him in a strangled gasp, and he loosened his grip. But he didn’t let go.
