Page 124 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
Finn smiled through broken teeth. “And ye’ll never be free of it. Because unlike ye, ye brute animal, I’ll nae be killin’ ye. I’ll keep ye alive to watch me rule this clan how it’s supposed to have been.”
Rhys’s breath came hard and fast. His arms trembled, but it wasn’t from exhaustion. It was restraint.
Then he struck.
The sword plunged down. Not into Finn’s heart, but just beside it, carving a line of agony across his ribs. Finn screamed, a sound that echoed off the ancient stones.
Another blow.
And another.
Not killing blows.
Not yet.
Rhys stood over him, panting like a beast, his eyes wild.
“Ye had access to all of it,” Rhys spat. “Ye were me family.”
Finn coughed, laughing through the blood. “That’s exactly why.”
Rhys raised the sword one final time, and drove it straight through Finn’s chest.
This time, the scream was shorter. Sharper. Then nothing.
Finn’s body spasmed once before going still. The smugness wiped clean from his face.
Silence fell like a grave shroud over the room.
Rhys stood there, chest heaving, blade buried deep in the traitor who had once been his brother in all but blood.
Then, finally, he pulled it free, breath rattling in his lungs.
He would remember this moment forever. The one where justice was served not with honor, but with fury.
And still, it didn’t feel like enough.
William and Myles had arrived at some point, and caught him as he swayed, each one grasping an arm.
Rhys let the sword fall to the stone floor with a metallicclangthat rang through the ruined keep.
And then, through ragged breath, Billy said, “Come on. She needs ye.”
30
Amara dabbed gently at Mabel’s cheek with a cloth, her own hands trembling as she pulled it away and saw blood—not Mabel’s, but someone else’s. The older woman sat slumped on a stool in the corner of the shelter, her once-pristine apron soaked through and her eyes red from weeping.
“Mabel,” Amara said softly, “I ken ye meant no harm.”
Mabel flinched like the words themselves hurt more than the wounds she’d treated all day. “I did,” she rasped, voice hoarse from smoke and shouting. “I should have spoken sooner. I should have?—”
“Ye were used,” Amara interrupted gently. “As I was. As so many were. But ye helped save lives today. That counts for somethin’.”
Mabel’s bottom lip trembled. “I never thought it would come to this.”
“I did,” came a voice from the doorway.
Amara’s head whipped around.
