Highlander Heroes Collection Volume 1: Books 1-3 by Rebecca Ruger

Author:Rebecca Ruger [Ruger, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rebecca Ruger
Published: 2020-05-20T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

GREGOR SLID ON TO HIS knees before her. “Anice.” He touched her hand. “Anice,” this, sharply. He could barely catch his breath, fear and rage and sadness nearly taking all of it. Her eyes were upon him now. She didn’t blink, just sat there shaking.

He turned at a commotion behind him. Torren now pummeled her attacker and Fibh and Kinnon were trying to stop him. Gregor turned back to Anice.

“I-I couldn’t scream,” she said.

“You did, lass. I heard you.” He was afraid to touch her, afraid to move her, but wanted nothing more than to wrench her into his arms. Gently, he moved the skirts of her gown to cover her thighs, wondering why she wore no hose or shoes. He rose to his feet, noting that her eyes didn’t move, only now stared at his legs in front of her. He pulled frantically at his plaid, unraveling the length of it, swearing when the damn thing caught in his belt. Finally, he freed the large piece and draped it over her shoulders, his gut writhing when she flinched. He went down again, on his haunches now, and held two parts of his plaid at her front. “Anice, I’m going to—Anice, look at me.” She did, seemingly pulled from a reverie. “I’m going to pick you up.”

She did not respond, in fact seemed to stare right through him, and Gregor scooped her up into his arms, walking past Fibh and Kinnon restraining Torren. He made note of Anice’s attacker, curled into a fetal position where Gregor had first tossed him, and where his captain had left him. “Bring that piece of shit back with you.”

He grabbed the pommel of the steed he’d commandeered—when he’d set out to search for Anice after it had been determined that she was not within the castle walls and hadn’t been seen since shortly before noon—and lifted himself and Anice up into the saddle, cradling her against him, her legs and bare and dirtied feet dangling off the left side.

Keeping the horse to a slow walk, despite his want to race back to the castle, Gregor knew now was not at all the time to consider any emotion he presently felt. Torren pulled up beside him and ducked his head, to try and get a good look at Anice. Gregor recognized that his captain’s present frown was actually so much greater than his normal one; this one more closely resembled Torren’s battle face.

Torren straightened again and attended the path. “It’s Hugh Duncan, you ken.”

He had not known that. He’d seen nothing at the moment he’d pulled the man off Anice, nothing save his fury, the raw need to kill. Not that knowing his identity would have stopped him from pounding the man to death; Torren was likely the only man alive who could have stopped him at that moment.

“Is he dead?” Gregor asked, the harshness tinged with disgust.

“Only wishing he were,” Torren said. Gregor recognized this particular speech pattern of Torren’s, barely controlled rage.

“He goes below,” Gregor ordered, referring to the cells below the ground under the southeast tower.

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