Page 65 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
He cursed and spun Helena around, by some instinct, and red-hot pain burst across his upper arm. She sprawled on the ground, gasping and confused, while he pressed a hand to his arm, where blood trickled from a shallow gash.
And behind them, in the center of their picnic blanket, was a quivering black arrow.
Damien stared at it for what felt like an eternity, then shifted his gaze back to Helena.
That was meant for ye.His heart throbbed in his eardrums.I almost lost ye.
CHAPTER 27
Damien drewone blade and reached for Helena at the same time. She was already scrambling to her feet, but he pulled her up. At the same moment, he spotted her precious bag, snatched it, and shoved it at her.
“Damien—”
“Get out of here, Helena,” he said. “Into the cave, and dinnae come out unless I tell ye to.”
“I-I can’t leave you,” she began.
“Now,” he said in a harsh tone, pushing her forward and shoving her inside. Then, he spun back and took up a fighting stance. “Ye shall nae get another chance like that, ye bastards. Come out and have a proper fight.”
Only the soft rustle of the wind and the continuous babble of water answered him. There was not even a scrape of stone or atwang of a bow. He glanced toward the horses, gratified to see that they were fine if prancing nervously.
Over the water, then.
But the arrow had come from the southeast.
Again, Damien reeled, as though the earth rolled under his feet like a ship in a storm.
They meant to kill Helena.
His mind snagged on the image of her rushing to the cave, and then his imagination ran riot, picturing her hurt or scrambling back from armed foes.
What if I cannae stop these foes?
A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he gritted his teeth.
Nay, they are dead men walkin’.
Still, Damien wondered at himself and the struggle to fight the battle at hand—something that had never happened before. It took several deep breaths for him to settle into a warrior’s focus, to use the danger to Helena to stoke his bloodlust and let his instincts guide his steps.
He crept through the rocks while being careful to keep the cave within sight. At the same time, he grabbed the small axe on his belt and weighed it in his other hand.
There had to be multiple attackers. Probably one up on the cliffside, who’d shot the arrow, and another few among the rocks. So far, they’d left the horses alone—perhaps to try and prevent one of them from raising the alarm.
They’re familiar with me fightin’ techniques.
They’d known to try and distract him—hurt him another way. He could not even be sure they wanted him dead, and his pulse throbbed in his temples.
These are nay bandits.
Above him, Damien heard the faintest scrape of a boot on stone, and he whirled around, his entire body behind the throw of the axe.
The man did not have time to even cry out, much less loose the arrow on his bow, before the axe embedded itself in his chest. A guttural sound escaped him, and then he tumbled off the cliff, plunged into a deep pool of water, and was swept out to sea.
Damien heard a curse behind him, and he turned to see a man leaping through the stones, fast and strong, wielding two blades. He drew his second blade with a snarl.
Vipers.
His swords crashed against the pirate’s, and he felt his blood surge with glee, even as rage choked his heart.
