Page 92 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
Drawing the blade down to her heaving breasts, Lachlan angled the blade toward her heart, and a pained sound escaped Damien.
“Stop,” Damien bit out. “Yer fight is withme.”
“Mhm, I ken,” Lachlan said. “But I wonder, would ye give me Morighe for her, Cousin?”
Thunder boomed overhead, and Damien couldn’t help it—he flinched. Lachlan let out a soft, wicked laugh and lifted the blade to Helena’s chin.
Everything inside Damien was reeling because he knew, deep down, that the answer was not one a laird should give.
“No.”
The furious word was hurled at Lachlan with such force that his blade drooped and he half-stepped away from the seething, fearless woman. She did not even seem to care that a blade was at her throat, only that Lachlan had offered such an insult.
“Our people—ourhomeis not up to be bartered. Especially not with a chicken-hearted fool who thinks himself clever, when he is merely a selfish, empty vessel for a dead man’s ambitions.” Helena jerked against her bonds. “This is why you willneverbe its Laird. Give me a blade, and I will cut out your heart myself for threatening Morighe.”
Damien smiled then, for he saw the dragonness in her eyes. At that moment, he believed that Helena could have killed Lachlan.
However, he took advantage of his cousin’s distraction to leap toward him, both blades coming down. But the bastard managed to spin away, narrowly avoiding death.
Lachlan hissed in pain, his arm bearing twin gashes.
“I will kill ye for lookin’ at her, and I will relish yer death for touchin’ her,” Damien snarled, pivoting forward as fast as he could.
But the cold and the swim made him slower than usual. And Lachlan, damn him, was a decent fighter, meeting his twin blades with two of his own. Metal sparked in the rain as they began to fight in earnest.
“Nay, Cousin. I will be the one to marry her, to take Morighe—me faither’s inheritance…”
Swords and words clashed as the cousins battled across the deck.
“Yer faither wasnevermeant to be Laird,” Damien growled and drove Lachlan back, pressing his advantage. “He was the youngest son, a fool, and a madman. He was so feckless that he did not know he sired his son, and only when ye proved useful did he try and manipulate ye to attain his goals.”
Lachlan’s face twisted, and he lashed out with a wild swing that nearly cut open Damien’s belly. “Lies.”
Damien felt his body growing warmer, and despite the aches from the swim and the cold in his fingers, he began to fight faster and nimbler. He was winning, and he could not stop himself from telling his cousin everything.
“Yer faither could have had a comfortable life—perhaps been a man-at-arms or held another title. He could’ve held court with kings and scholars, could have traveled and seen the world as nay laird could. Me faither indulged his every wish, and yer faither spat on all of that. He went mad, thinkin’ he could have power by takin’ it.”
“D’ye really think that’s nae the way of the world, Damien?” Lachlan sneered. “Ye pampered, foolish Laird’s son? Did ye learn nothin’ after all those sweet, sweet hours on theViper?”
Damien nearly faltered, but he merely answered in a grim tone, “I ken power in a way ye never will—nor yer faither.Realpower.” He briefly glanced at Helena. “It isnae the storm, but the sea.”
Bewilderment crossed Lachlan’s face, and Damien nearly laughed, but then Lachlan turned, twisting to throw a blade at Helena. Damien lunged, and it sliced across his shoulder, before falling to the deck.
Wincing at the sting, he circled Lachlan, who shot him a cold grin.
“I told them how to torture ye,” Lachlan said in a soft voice. “I only wish I’d heard yer screams and pleas. Thinkin’ yer faither would come to save ye.”
Mouth dry, Damien darted forward and knocked him back, their blades clashing. But Lachlan was laughing.
“Even the damn skies wanted ye to suffer—the storm cuttin’ ye open, stealin’ yer sight.”
“I see enough,” Damien gritted out, but he faltered.
“The storm saved him,” rang out Helena’s clear voice. “Most would have died. Instead, he became a more powerful warrior. The only man worthy of Morighe.”
“Andher,” Damien added with a soft, affectionate laugh.
Lachlan’s face contorted with rage, and he tried to shove past Damien, shouting, “I will kill ye. Enough of this. I will…”
