Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Once again, his fingers dug into her arm as he dragged her into the woods. “You’re going to beg for death before I’m done with you.”
The forest swallowed them, and Esme nearly lost all hope but the thought of never seeing Ryland again filled her heart with such pain that it revived her courage, her hope, and she kept alert, her mind turning with ways to escape and a silent prayer on her lips.
A voice suddenly rang out, sharp and sure. “Let her go.”
Roland froze and Esme along with him.
From the shadows stepped Hakon, tall and broad-shouldered, his expression cold as ice, and a large axe angled low at his side.
“Let her go. Or die where you stand.”
Esme’s breath caught, her legs nearly giving out with relief.
Roland let out a cold laugh and turned, dragging her partially behind him as he faced the northern chieftain. “You came alone, then?” He cast a hasty glance around, then grinned. “Brave, but foolish.”
“I came to end this,” Hakon warned.
Roland laughed and lifted his chin. At his signal, eight men stepped from the trees behind him, Rennoch warriors, hard-eyed and armed, fanning out like wolves circling prey.
“You’ll be dead before your blade swings, Northman.”
Hakon didn’t move, didn’t show an ounce of fear. “She’s not yours to take.”
Roland pressed the dagger to Esme’s side again, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. “And yet I’ve taken her.”
Hakon’s grip tightened on the handle of his axe.
And just behind him, deeper in the woods… another shadow moved.
Roland’s blade pressed harder to Esme’s side, just enough for her to feel the threat behind his grin. “Nine against one,” he said with a shrug. “That’s poor odds, Northman.”
Hakon didn’t flinch. His eyes stayed locked on Roland, unreadable. “I agree. It is poor odds… for you.”
One of the Rennoch warriors shifted just enough to draw attention, then lunged.
Hakon turned and swung, catching the man in the side with his axe before he could complete his swing. But the move exposed him for a single heartbeat.
A second Rennoch warrior darted in from behind.
A flash of movement, a quick jab to the neck, and the warrior staggered, then dropped.
Behind him stood Una, dagger in her hand, blood dripping from it. Her eyes never left Hakon as she muttered, “You’re welcome.”
Hakon grinned. “I knew you’d make a good wife.”
“In your dreams,” she called out as they both turned to face two more warriors.
Esme tried again to twist free, but Roland held fast, using her like a shield. “Kill him,” he spat to the others, eyes darting, calculating. “And her, whoever she is.”
A roar split the trees.
One of Roland’s men spun, too slow.
Dru flew through the air like a hawk diving on prey, her arms snapping around the warrior’s neck, legs locked at his waist. He shouted, flailed, and stumbled backward into a tree as she tightened her grip, fury in every muscle.
Esme gasped. “Dru?”
The warrior slammed against the trunk, trying to dislodge her, but she held on, growling, “You’ll not get my brother’s wife!”
Another warrior turned to rush her—
A vicious roar echoed through the trees.
Knox barreled in from the side, sword high, eyes wild. He cut the first man down with one sweeping blow, then ducked beneath the second’s swing to drive his blade into the man’s ribs.
“Dru!” he shouted.
She released the warrior with a final jerk of his neck, and he collapsed. Dru dropped lightly to the ground, winded but grinning.
Knox delivered a fast blow to a warrior who stepped between him and Dru while Hakon and Una saw to the last two.
“Did I or did I not order you to remain home?” Knox said annoyed as he stepped over the fallen warrior toward his wife.
Dru rested her hands on her hips. “Sounds like you don’t know for sure what you told me. So, it’s a good thing I followed you.”
Knox shook his head and grabbed his petite wife around the waist to haul her up against him when a shout rang out and he turned with her in his arms.
“Enough!” Roland’s grip tightened on Esme.
Hakon went and stood beside Una and saw that her hand bled.
“You are hurt?” he asked.
“A scratch,” she said, her eyes on Esme and yelled, “We won’t let you take her.”
He dragged her backward, panic beginning to slip into his voice seeing his men had fallen around him. “I’ll kill her. Don’t think I won’t.”
A voice, deep and deadly calm, rang out. “You won’t get the chance.”
Esme’s heart lurched.
Ryland stepped from the trees like a shadow given form, his sword already drawn, blood staining the blade from the battle. His gaze locked on Roland, dark and merciless.
Roland’s smirked though it faltered.
“I should’ve cut your throat the day you attacked me at the celebration,” Ryland said.
“You would have if you were Torrance. I didn’t understand your generosity that day, though I appreciated it, and I understand it now, Ryland.” He continued to grip Esme, keep her close, keep the dagger pressed against her. “Clan Glencairn belongs to me. With Torrance dead, it left only you and Esme to kill. I was thrilled to hear earlier that you made it that much easier for me with Torrance dead.”