Page 57 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
“I had taken another army West, to take care of a small group that thought they could ambush the castle while the soldiers were away. We had captured a rebel soldier who told us about the attack, but when we arrived there was no one there. It wasall a ruse, designed to pull a portion of our army away from the main fighting.”
“Oh no,” Feya gasped. She could already see where this was heading. The enemy would attack, would take advantage of their weakened forces.
“We rode hard for two days, stopping only when the horses couldn’t go any further. But even then, we were too late. My faither and the remaining soldiers had been in conflict since dawn, doing everything they could to fend off the larger and stronger forces. It’s remarkable they survived as long as they did.”
Archer fell silent, but Feya needed the full story. She wanted to know the exact details of Archer’s nightmare. What was it he kept reliving over and over in his mind?
“Your faither. Was he still alive when ye got there?”
“Aye,” he said. “Out front with the best of his men. My army joined in, attacking from the side, and the new energy brought us life. We started pushing them back. But my father had been fighting for hours, and just when I thought we might be close to victory, I heard him cry out. I kenned it was him as certainly as I kenned me own voice.
“I lost me head then. Instead of staying with me men and continuing to lead them, I attacked anyone I could find. I went on a rampage, slicing and pushing back the enemy. I forgot everything except how to kill, how to destroy the people who hadtaken me faither from me. Their army retreated, but they left behind a trail of bodies from our side. I held me faither in me arms while he took his last breath.”
Feya’s heart ached for him, and her eyes pricked with tears. Despite Archer’s casual position, she could see how painful this was for him. She could sense how raw this was, how tense his muscles were as he relived this moment.
“Ye saved your clan,” she said. “Ye pushed back that army when ye were on the verge of defeat.”
“Perhaps,” he said dismissively. “But I shouldnae have acted on me own. I shouldnae have left Malcolm to make decisions about the men’s movements. He wasnae prepared to lead them in me stead, and he paid the price with his life.”
“They died honorably,” Feya said. “They died so that your clan could continue. They wouldnae want ye to blame yourself.”
“I ken,” Archer sighed. “But it doesnae mean I can stop meself.”
He took a deep breath, so big Feya heard the air as he pulled it into his lungs. She watched the rise of his chest and the way he held his breath before slowly letting it out, opening his mouth to release everything with a sigh. He ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes.
“Are ye alright?”
She knew his episodes often started with headaches. Now she looked at him with concern, wondering if talking about that day was about to give him one of his flashes. But when Archer looked over, his eyes were clear, no sign of pain on his face.
“Aye. It feels good to talk about them.”
He even smiled at her, showing Feya the truth of his words.
“Do ye ken what else might feel good?” he asked with a glint in his eye.
“What?”
“Putting our feet in that water.” He nodded toward the pond, the water still crystal-clear in its stillness. “Last one to the water gets thrown in.”
He shifted to unlace his boots, slipping out of them with expert speed. Feya squealed as she reached for her own laces, but she hardly had them loose before Archer was kicking off his shoes and then his socks. He jumped to his feet and raced toward the water, folding up his breeches as he ran.
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He raced to the water with Feya following behind. She laughed as she tried to run and pull off her stockings at the same time. Archer crashed into the shallow water, spraying water in all directions. It was cool and welcoming on his warm skin. Moments later, Feya joined him, bunching her skirts to hold them away from the pond.
He reached down and tossed water in her direction, making her squeal. Without hesitation, she dropped her skirts and splashed him right back, throwing water onto his chest and quickly soaking his tunic. They laughed at each other as they splashed back and forth, trying to block the other person’s attack with little success.
On one particularly skilled toss, Feya caught Archer right in the face. He squeezed his eyes closed as he felt the cool liquid in his hair and falling down his forehead. When he opened his eyes, he pretended to be angry, letting out a low growl in her direction. Feya squeaked and turned around, starting to run, but Archerwas instantly upon her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her backward, lifting her feet off the ground.
He swung her around, and soon they were both crashing into the water, completely submerged in the shallow pool. They both cried out, surprised by the shock of cold, but Feya quickly continued their water fight. Even as she kicked her legs to stay afloat, she splashed more water in his direction.
They climbed out of the pond, dripping water onto the dirt. Archer’s shirt clung to his back and his stomach, and his breeches felt stiff and uncomfortable, hanging low on his hips. Of course, Feya had even more layers than he did. The dress she wore was heavy with water, and her long hair was soaked, free from any ties as it hung down her back, more curly than ever.
“Now what?” she asked, looking down to take in the state of her dress. Archer was still thinking of the feel of her in his arms when he pulled her into the water. And he was distracted by the way her neckline pulled low, revealing more of her breasts than usual.
He smirked at her and shrugged, not ready to end their playfulness. And then he reached down to pull his tunic over his head. He saw her staring at the scar-covered expanse of his chest.
“We dry our clothes,” he suggested. He walked to a nearby tree and hung the shirt from an outstretched branch. Then he made a slow walk back to Feya. She watched his every move, looking eager but cautious, as if she couldn’t decide if he was teasing.Archer closed the distance and stood in front of her to push her wet hair behind her ear. “We cannae go back to the castle looking like this,” he reasoned.
