Page 92 of The Highlander's Auctioned Virgin
CHAPTER 24
Ciaran clenchedhis jaw as the man approached him, a wave of recognition hitting him like a raging storm.
“Who is he?” Elinor whispered nervously from behind him.
“That is Jamie,” Ciaran responded. “We used to be good friends. ‘Tis such a shame what happened to ye, Jamie.”
“What happened to me? Ye are such a prickly bastard, ye ken that? Ye think just because ye took half the clan with ye, ye deserve anything good in life?”
“Good Lord,” Ciaran muttered, before letting out a breath. “How many lies has he fed ye?”
“Ye daenae deserve a clan,” Jamie sneered.
With those words, he struck.
Ciaran didn’t wait. He drew his sword and, as gently as he could, pushed Elinor to the back.
He lunged forward and swung before Jamie could reach him. The tip of his blade sliced through the man’s ribs. Blood spilled on the floor.
“Are ye certain ye want to do this? Ye ken this is all a game to me, right?”
Jamie stepped back and swung at him again, aiming for his throat with a quick slash. Ciaran dodged, feeling the blade whizz over his head.
“Ye daenae deserve a bride,” Jamie snapped, his face contorting in anger.
He swung hard at Ciaran, who barely blocked the blow. Their swords locked.
“So what, are ye his man-at-arms now? Ye’re his new hound?”
“As it should have been from the beginning,” Jamie grunted as he tried to push him back.
Sparks rose as their blades ground against each other, but then Ciaran threw him back.
“I kenned ye have always been jealous of me. I didnae get it, but I kenned ye were,” Ciaran hissed. “But the truth, Jamie, is that ye were—are—jealous because ye werenae good enough. Ye never were, and will never be. ‘Tis sad, really.”
“At least I’ll die trying. And I didnae aim the arrow at ye. I aimed it at her,” Jamie said, his eyes briefly flicking to Elinor.
Something about that set something loose in Ciaran.
Their swords clashed again, and both men fell backward. Jamie swung at him sideways, and Ciaran dodged. This time, he did not come back up. Instead, he lunged at Jamie and, before the man could find his footing, drove his shoulder into him.
Jamie stumbled and fell. Worried murmurs rippled through the crowd, which was watching from the sidelines.
“Ye see, I would have let ye go,” Ciaran said.
Jamie coughed. “Ye and I both ken that isnae true.”
“I would have,” Ciaran insisted.
Jamie pushed himself up on his elbows. Blood spurted from his ribs where Ciaran had struck him earlier. He tried to stand up and swing his sword again, but the movement was weak, barely enough to make Ciaran jump back.
“But then ye had to mention her.”
Ciaran straddled him and tightened his grip on his sword. Gasps rang out as he raised it high above his head and brought it down hard, the blade sinking deep into Jamie’s chest. A squelch echoed through the hall, followed by a wave of tense silence.
Jamie choked, blood spilling from his lips and all over his chest.
“Ye daenae get to live. Nae after threatening her,” Ciaran hissed.
