To Avenge Her Highland Warrior (Highland Fae Chronicles Book 3) by Samantha Holt

Author:Samantha Holt [Holt, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2014-10-17T11:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Logan leaned over the stone wall and peered into the night. The skies had remained clear. He hoped they stayed that way. Should it rain, marching across the Highlands would be that much harder, as would carting any siege weapons with them. A half moon made an attempt at lighting the sky but the stars did a fine job of caressing the hilltops with their silvery glow. He drew in a long breath, one scented with smoke and wild flowers. Had he done this before? Stared out at the night and thought of a woman? The emptiness of his mind made him curl his fingers into the stone.

That, and the news of the deal Gillean had struck.

Soon, Lorna would no longer be their burden. She’d be Ivar’s slave.

Bitterness sat in his throat. He was no fool. A female slave, particularly one like Lorna would be used and abused, treated no better than an animal—mayhap worse. But what could he do? Their alliance with the Vikings, it seemed, now hung on this small bargain. So close to battle, it would not do to anger their leader. And if he deserted them and the king got wind of their plans? Death would be the best they could hope for.

He turned and rested his back against the cool stone, relishing the slight jab in his back as it brought him back to his senses. He had a job to do and an army of men to worry about.

An army of men who appeared infatuated with Lorna. He’d never seen their heads turn as quickly as they did with her, and he was not oblivious to their whispered comments about her. Many fancied their chances with her—if only he did not act like her shadow. What choice did he have but to trail after her when an entire castle of men wished to slake their lust with her? Ach, though he’d managed admirably to avoid her for the day. Not that it made a difference. Everywhere he went he saw her. Her voice rang in his ears. If he stepped foot in the kitchens, his body tightened in remembrance. On the balcony, the scarred wood reminded him of her wild, angry expression. Even here, he saw her in his mind, her skirts blowing about her, fair hair fluttering in the breeze. She would turn to him and take him in her arms—

Laughter broke his imaginings, shattering them to a thousand pieces. He jerked himself away from the wall. “Fool,” he muttered to himself.

Righting himself fully, he peered over the inside of the wall and hunted down the source of the laughter. The men by the rear gate—the small escape route that was barely visible unless you knew it was there—were talking with a lass it seemed. Another ripple of male laughter bounced around the walls. Annoyance made his lips curl and he stomped down the inner stairs to throw about a threat or two. They were meant to be standing guard, not seducing maids.

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