Page 120 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
“Murdoch?” Rhys managed, chest heaving with anger.
“Aye,” William said, pulling the armband from his grip and tucking it back into his pocket.
Rhys growled and turned, taking the stairs two at a time.Every blow will be a punishment. Every step will be me vengeance.
They reached the lower floor and were met with a wall of resistance.
Three mercenaries blocked their path, shields raised, spears bristling.
Myles didn’t slow. “I hate shields,” he muttered, and launched himself into the wall of them, creating just enough distractionfor Rhys to vault into the gap and gut the one on the right. William hacked at another’s legs, and Myles bashed the last into the wall until his head cracked against the stone.
“Up!” Rhys growled, chest heaving.
“Ye daenae think he’s runnin’?” Myles panted, wiping blood from his face.
“He’s waitin’,” Rhys said. “He’s wantin’ me to find him.”
Billy grunted, “Aye.”
They reached the landing outside the kitchen, and Rhys could hear a distinct barking of orders and a low crashing of metal behind the thick door. Finn wasn’t in the garden. He was just beyond where they stood. In the courtyard.
Rhys adjusted his grip on his sword. “Cover me.”
Billy and Myles flanked the door.
Rhys kicked it open.
The heavy wood burst outward, cracking on its hinges, and silence fell in the small courtyard.
Finn stood at the far end, atop a makeshift stage. He wore his leathers, his blade drawn, and his expression unreadable.
In front and beside him, half a dozen men stood at the ready. Mercenaries — rough and already bloodied.
“Rhys,” Finn said, voice cool. “Good. Ye’ve made it.”
“I always do,” Rhys answered.
“Took ye long enough. And I’ve see ye’ve brought yer pets.”
They stared at each other. Two cousins once raised under the same roof, now on opposite sides of a firestorm.
Rhys stepped into the courtyard, slow and deliberate. He didn’t have to look to know that William and Myles slipped behind him, positioning to protect him.
“This ends now.”
Finn didn’t move. “Aye. It does,cousin.”
“Why?” Rhys asked, voice quiet but shaking with fury. “Why betray me?”
Finn tilted his head. “Is that what ye think this is? Betrayal?”
Rhys’s eyes darkened. “Ye sold us out. Lied. Turned Murdoch against his own daughter. Threatened me daughter’s life. Turned me home into a battlefield. Smells a lot like betrayal, if I had to name it.”
“I did what had to be done,” Finn said, stepping closer. “To take back what was rightfullymine.”
“What? But ye were never meant to be Laird.”
Finn’s mouth twisted. “Was I nae?”
