Page 14 of Highland Secret
A torturous agony coursed through her with a strength she’d never before encountered. This must be the crippling horror every woman experienced when she sent her warrior off to battle.
Her heart in her throat, she watched, paralyzed, as he bowed to her, his right hand grasped over his heart. Still, she kept quiet as he turned on his boot and quit the room. The door closed with a click that reverberated through her bones.
Trembling with the force of it, she allowed the tears she’d been holding with an iron will to flow freely down her cheeks.
What had she done?
Chapter 10
Roderick adjusted the grip on his weapon as he waited in the shadows of the forest.
The lovely lass had been right.
The Stewart army boasted more mounted knights, but the sheer number advantage belonged to the enemy. And here, three acres of forest away from the battlefield, maybe two hundred and fifty horsemen awaited their signal to attack in the unlikely case that the battle turned against the Donald. Their colors and language branded them Northern mercenaries, paid per battle to fight for the highest bidder.
He bared his teeth in half a wicked smile, half derisive sneer. They wouldn’t get the chance. Not today.
Watching them mill about their crude camp, preparing their horses as stealthily as possible, he knew it would be easier to start taking them out before they mounted and stood at the ready.
Her name floated to him on the breeze that noisily disturbed the heavy leaves of the oak in which he perched. Looking toward the city of Aberdeen he breathed deeply as if he could find her scent on the wind and take it inside of him.
Evelyn… The most beautiful woman he’d ever encountered with her thick, honeyed hair and shy, whiskey colored eyes.
And that arse.
He’d meant to possess her for a night, to shelter her from the cruel MacKay and give and take pleasure from her body. It did him good to spend his seed before a battle. For then the rage did not take him as entirely. He was less likely to slaughter his allies.
But she’d been a virgin. A bloodyvirgin!
He should have known. He should have read the signs; her trembling, her shyness, her unpracticed guileless passion. It wasn’t unusual for him to encounter difficulty with a woman who was unaccustomed to a man of his size and girth. He’d thought her tense and nervous, maybe in need of coaxing.
Kiss me… Please.Closing his eyes, he relished the sweet memory of his own surrender. Och, but she’d been tighter,sweeterthan any woman before and now that she’d tamed his beast, there couldneverbe another woman after. ‘Twas the way of his Berserker bloodline. Once sworn and mated to a lass, the bond was eternal.
Roderick cringed at the danger he’d inadvertently put her in. What if his berserker had rejected her as his mate? She would have been killed! But, nay, magic lay behind the lass’ warm eyes and an innate knowledge and acceptance of the truth of things. Any man or beast would have to be insane not to want her, to do anything to possess her, to protect her.
Toloveher.
He would return to Aberdeen and claim her. Take her to his family home in the highlands. Just as soon as he dispensed with his contracted charge.
Taking in another deep breath of briny ocean air tinged with heather, he silently drew his blade from the scabbard, taking care not to let the sun glint off the weapon and alert his prey.
Slicing the blade across his left palm he embraced the familiar white-hot rage that surged at the sight of blood.
Yes…
This caused the Beast to rise within him, filling him with the power of Freya, passed down to some clans through a Northern ancestor.
His vision honed to shades of grey, but sharp as that of a predatory bird. Colors would not distract him, only movement. And the beast, once unleashed, indiscriminately destroyedanythingthat moved.
Painful breaths explodedfrom her chest as Evelyn raced through the forest, hands fisted in skirts to hold them above her knees.
The blue berserker.He would kill Roderick. He lurked, waiting to strike, to kill.
Could she warn Roderick in time? She’d been inhisthoughts the night before! Why hadn’t she known who his quarry had been then? Clenching her teeth and calling herself nine kinds of idiot, she crashed through the brush, ignoring the burning in her lungs.
The wind held a metallic trace, all her senses alert to the deadly stillness of the forest permeated only by the sound of the leaves.
Breaking from a line of trees, she couldn’t hold back a cry of dismay at the staggering carnage that lay before her. Panting frantically, she cringed at the scent of blood invading her nostrils and mouth.
