Page 83 of My Warrior
“Oh, aye,” Owen crowed, limping out of Holden’s reach, “I pumped her quite full of my bastard seed, de Ware.”
A growl started low in Holden’s throat.
“So you’ll wonder yourself several months from now…” Owen leered, his eyes yellow with madness. He chopped forward twice, but Holden blocked his blows. “When she spews out that mewling babe…“
Holden tightened both hands around the hilt of his sword and hung on to consciousness by pure will.
Owen grinned in ugly triumph. “Whose is it?”
Volcanic wrath boiled up in Holden. All Owen’s evil, all his own pain, all Cambria’s suffering welled into a fount of fury, enraging and empowering him. He raised his sword high. The reflection of flames from the tower flashed gold along its sharp edge. And then he slashed downward.
The last thing he saw before the dark waters of unconsciousness closed over his eyes was Owen’s leering head tumbling from his shoulders.
“Cambria.”
Fine hairs rose on the back of Cambria’s neck, like the brush of a spider’s web. She thought for a moment she’d heard…but nay—it was only the wind soughing through the trees. The sun had shifted the lacy shadows of the forest canopy to the far side of the clearing now, and the kind knight who’d accompanied her here was gone. She shivered once and withdrew again into her silent vigil.
“Cambria.”
She froze. It wasn’t the wind. The air around her felt charged, and the skin of her back tingled as if she were about to be struck by lightning. She ventured a glance toward the heavens, but the visible patches of sky were unblemished by cloud.
She must be losing her mind, hearing things. The horrible thing she’d done was making her hear his voice, making her flesh crawl with electric fear.
“Cambria.”
Nay! She must numb herself to what had happened, lock it all away into the darkest alcove of her mind. If she could only stop her ears against the echo of his voice…
“Cam.” The voice was right behind her now.
With the wariness of a cat, she straightened slowly, repulsed and yet compelled to seek out the unearthly source of her torment. She rose on quaking limbs and turned to face whatever specter called her name.
Holden held his breath. How suddenly small Cambria looked, her despair clear in the forlorn slope of her shoulders. He’d been watching her in silence for a long time, trying to piece together the right words to say.
He couldn’t expect her trust. He’d given her little reason to trust him. He’d called her whore and cast her aside like offal. He’d even deceived her into believing she’d slain him. Now he wouldn’t blame her if shedidslay him.
But no matter how fruitless, he had to try to regain her trust.
She turned slowly to face him, and when he saw what damage had been done to her, rage rose in him, a rage so black he had to force his eyes away lest he frighten her with his fury.
He wanted to kill Owen all over again. Her face was riddled with dark bruises, her cheek was cut, and one eye was blackened and swollen. He ground his teeth together, silently cursing fate for cheating him of the pleasure of murdering Owen by slow torture.
“Holden?” Cambria whispered in disbelief.
It was impossible. She’d killed him. She’d felt her blade pierce his flesh, seen him fall, watched his lifeblood flow out onto the ground.
Yet he stood before her, speaking to her, his chest swathed in bandages, looking as alive as flesh and blood could be.
The breath stilled in her breast. A thankful sob welled up inside her. Her nose stung as she fought to control a sea of emotions. God had had mercy upon her after all. Holden wasn’t dead. She reached out tremulously for him, stretching her fingers out to touch the warm tips of his.
With a soft cry, she lunged forward, dissolving into his embrace. Nothing had ever felt more solid, more real than his fierce arms about her, his warm chest against her cheek, his love wrapped around her heart.
“Your wounds…how can you ever forgive…” she began before tears choked her.
Her words caught Holden like a boot in the stomach. Forgive her? He prayed she’d forgivehim. He’d vowed to protect her, yet she bore the marks of his failure to do that—one eye swollen almost shut, bruises coloring her cheeks, red abrasions at the sides of… His fingers touched the corner of her mouth. She’d been gagged, he realized, and it all became instantly clear—why she’d gone willingly to battle, why she’d remained silent. A muscle in his cheek began to twitch with anger, and his jaw tightened to rock hardness.
“Iamsorry,” Cambria breathed, misunderstanding his dark looks.
Holden shook his head and, despite the rage surging in his blood, forced his teeth apart in a reassuring grin.
