Page 16 of The Highlander's Runaway Nun
CHAPTER TEN
Laura’s breath caught in her throat when she watched Bradley move, each strike precise, each motion fueled with lethal intent. The sun glinted off his sword as he parried and thrust with terrifying skill, his muscular arms rippling beneath his dark tunic.
She should have been horrified at the violence, at the bloodied bodies, but instead, a strange sense of safety settled over her. This man, brutal as he was, protected those who could not defend themselves, and that knowledge stirred an unfamiliar admiration deep within her.
She noticed the strength in his stance, the unwavering focus in his dark eyes, and the sheer force behind every movement. The bandits had never stood a chance, and she realized that he was not cruel for the sake of cruelty, but disciplined and ruthless when the situation demanded it.
Her heart thudded in her chest, both from fear and from an unspoken intrigue she could not deny. Despite the horror of the scene, a quiet trust began to root itself in her mind. Bradley was dangerous, yes, but he was theirs to protect them.
Laura’s thoughts drifted as she surveyed the aftermath, the villagers cautiously stepping out to tend the injured and salvage what remained of their homes. She had seen the devastation first-hand, and yet Bradley’s presence made the ruined village feel less hopeless than it had moments ago.
Her soul churned; she felt awe and unease in equal measure, knowing the same hands that had crushed the bandits could, in another moment, strike with deadly intent against her. She understood instinctively that power like his demanded respect, fear, and, strangely, reliance.
A shiver ran down her spine as she watched him sheathe his sword and survey the village with cool authority. Laura felt an unexpected flutter in her chest, a mix of terror and fascination that she could not fully name. Laura felt a stirring of strange, reluctant admiration for the man who was now her husband and the Laird of McCormack.
It was then that she noticed the blood running down Bradley’s arm. She ran to him. Her heart raced as she knelt beside him. She reached instinctively to touch it, her fingers trembling, but Bradley jerked slightly away, annoyance flashing in his dark eyes.
“Lass, I daenae need yer fussin’ over me,” he said, his voice clipped, the edge of stubborn pride cutting through the air.
“I daenae care if ye daenae want it, sit down and let me tend to it,” Laura insisted, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Ye’ve been through enough this morn, and if ye bleed out, who will protect the village?”
Bradley grunted but allowed her to sit him on a nearby stump, his jaw tight. Laura tore a strip from her dress, dampened it with water from her flask, and pressed it to the wound, securing it with careful, practiced hands.
“We’ll need to properly dress it once we return to the castle,” she murmured, glancing at the bloodstained cloth. “But this will hold for now. I cannae believe ye would face such dangers.”
“Ye’re shocked I took them all down alone, aren’t ye?” he said.
“Aye,” Laura admitted, her eyes wide as she straightened slightly. “I’ve never seen anyone fight like that, not with such… ferocity and skill.”
Bradley’s expression softened just a fraction, though his pride remained unyielding. “A villager helped me,” he admitted, waving a hand dismissively. “I didnae do it alone.”
Laura’s gaze lingered on him, noting the faint lines of strain and the raw strength that lingered even now. “I can see it, though,Bradley. Ye’re a fierce warrior… every bit a laird, even more than I feared.”
He shrugged, his dark eyes scanning the village beyond them. “I’m simply doing me duty, lass. Protectin’ what belongs to me, what belongs to me people.”
She frowned, torn between admiration and worry. “Then… why did ye let the bandits go?”
Bradley’s eyes darkened, the corners of his mouth tilting in a brief, calculating smile. “So, they may tell the tale, ye see? They shall speak of how I faced them alone, brought them low with naught but me hand and skill.”
Laura blinked, startled by the cold calculation in his words. “And they’ll spread the tale… so everyone will know how relentless ye are?”
“Aye,” he said, voice low and certain. “They will go forth and spread the word. Laird McCormack shall be known as fierce and unyieldin’, a force none will dare challenge lightly. Me people will see that their Laird stands for them, always.”
Laura swallowed, her hand still pressed against his side, feeling the thrum of life and power beneath her fingers. Despite the blood and the danger, there was an undeniable pull in him, a magnetic authority that demanded both respect and fear. She wondered if she would ever truly understand this man, who could be tender one moment and a whirlwind of destruction the next.
“I… I cannae believe ye did all that,” she said softly, her voice tinged with awe. “The skill, the strength… I never imagined any man could move like that, take down four bandits without hesitation.”
Bradley leaned back slightly, letting out a low rumble of pride. “It takes more than strength alone, lass. Ye must ken the terrain, the men, their weaknesses. And ye must act swiftly, without doubt or mercy. Hesitation is death in times like these.”
Laura nodded, absorbing every word, even as her mind whirled with conflicting feelings. The man beside her, her husband, was terrifying and magnificent, capable of destruction, yet in her hands now, vulnerable enough to allow her care.
She straightened the cloth once more, securing it firmly, her gaze meeting his. “We’ll return soon, and ye’ll let me dress it properly. I cannae leave ye wounded like this.”
Bradley’s eyes softened, just a fraction, as he studied her. “Aye, lass… I suppose ye may have a point. But ken this, I will nae be weak, even for ye. McCormack does nae yield.”
Laura felt a shiver run down her spine, part fear, part something else, as she realized she was witnessing the full measure of the man she had married. Powerful, relentless, yet somehow, strangely… necessary.
“It’s time to return home,” Bradley told her as he walked her to his steed.
