The Highlander's Destiny (Highland Rogues #2) - Mary Wine Page 0,85

has favored my suit.”

“I will never be yers!” Cora declared.

“I have killed yer husband,” Lirkin said with a grin.

*

Brynna melted into the darkness. She was suddenly grateful for a life in a brothel, for she’d learned young to sit out of sight but to always, always wait until her mistress was in bed before she sought her own sleep.

The Grants crept past her as she held her breath. She had her hand pressed tightly to her lips when Cora screamed.

She remained silent. The Grants closed around their leader. Brynna silently kicked off her shoes before she gripped her skirts and started down the passageway, hugging the wall as she went. The hall had never been so far away.

*

Lirkin was studying her face. Cora bared her teeth at him.

“I killed yer husband, so ye, are me spoils.”

“Ye promised.” Bayrd emerged from the darkness. “Ye swore ye’d deal with the witch if I allowed ye inside the stronghold.”

Lirkin looked toward Bayrd. “Only a man weak enough to turn traitor to his own blood would fear a little heat in his bed.”

There was a gurgle, and then the end of a sword emerged from the man’s body. He looked down at the blood coating the blade. Bayrd looked at Lirkin. “Ye…black-hearted bastard.”

Blood soaked the front of his shirt before Bayrd slumped to the floor, his eyes rolling upward.

“That is the only payment a traitor deserves,” Lirkin informed his men.

There was a round of hushed amusement.

“I’m going to enjoy ye, Cora Mackenzie, before yer husband is even cold.” Lirkin smirked at her.

“Better think again, ye bastard.”

A familiar arm hooked Cora by the waist. She feared she was imagining the feel of Faolan pulling her back against his hard body.

But his scent was there to confirm who it was.

So was the fresh blood.

Cora looked up to see Faolan thrusting the same sword Lirkin had used on Bayrd. Faolan’s face was hard, but his eyes glowed with satisfaction.

Lirkin let out a hoarse cry. His men had been too far away. They turned, growling out their rage. Faolan held her as he looked at their number.

It was hopeless.

But a new sound came from behind them. A pounding of feet on the passageway stones.

“Defend the McKay!” Yestin cried out.

The twin pools of light gave Cora a glimpse of the McKay Retainers arriving. Their swords were raised above their heads as they charged at full speed into the invaders. The Grants were caught in the section of the passageway that ran between the towers.

Faolan swung her around, pushing her into the stairwell that led up to his chamber. “Climb, lass.”

Men screamed. In the meager light, the battle was a grotesque shadow play where half-lit figures used their swords to cut their enemies to pieces. The scent of fresh blood, with its metallic edge, was so strong it nauseated her.

But she didn’t have time to allow her body to slow her down. Faolan was pushing her up the stairs. Cora struggled against her skirts, yanking them up as some of the Grants turned and ran down the passageway.

“After them!” Faolan ordered.

Light was coming now from every tiny chamber. Doors opened as lanterns were lit. Up on the top of the wall, the bells were being rung to wake all the inhabitants of the stronghold. It was any clan’s greatest fear. An invasion which had managed to make it inside the walls. Now, it was fight or be killed in yer own bed.

From the youngest to the oldest, every McKay answered. Those without swords brought what they had. From pitchforks to fire pokers. The women were no exception. They surged up behind the men, intent on protecting their homes and families.

“Cora…” Faolan growled at her. “Go, lass.”

Cora made it to the top of the tower. She pulled the doors open and stumbled into Faolan’s chamber. He was right behind her but stopped to shut the doors. He shuddered once it was done, his strength beginning to fail him once more.

Candles had been left burning in the chamber. She turned and got a good look at her husband. Blood soaked half his shirt. Lirkin had driven the sword into Faolan’s side.

“Ye must lay down,” Cora ordered him.

“I’ll not be in me bed as there are invaders in me stronghold! Ye are safe now, and I must go back…”

There was a pounding on the door. “It’s Yestin, Laird! We’ve won the day!”

Relief swept through Cora, but it was extremely short-lived. Faolan backed away from the door so his captain might enter. Yestin came