Page 53 of The Laird's Unwanted Wife
More arrows whizzed past him, digging into the snow as a few more found purchase in his leg. A tremble ran up the length of his body, and the next strike from Carswell nearly knocked him off his feet. Someone bellowed loudly behind him, chorusing with the sound of howling hounds.
As the sound of crunching snow rang out, Rory’s scarred face briefly flashed past him before he was shoved forward, and with the sudden rush of momentum, Gerald raised his sword and brought it hard down upon Carswell’s.
As his opponent crumpled slightly, Gerald finally caught sight of Mollie; she remained rigid in her place, tears filling her eyes as a swarm of deerhounds circled her. An arrow or two had found purchase in their bodies, but that hardly seemed to deter them, snarling and gnashing their teeth as they tried to press themselves through the gaps of the gate.
“Get away from the gate, Mollie!” Gerald roared.
The poor girl remained in place.
“Mollie!” Gerald slammed his sword against Carswell’s once more, finding Rory dart around him and take the brunt of Carswell’s counter. He shoved the Laird aside, clearing a path for Gerald as he ran to the gate, the hounds shifting to allow his arms through the bars. “Mollie, look at me.”
Mollie’s face was slick with tears, partially frozen to her face as a terrible wail shattered Gerald’s heart.
“Lamb.”
She looked up, puffy red eyes staring into Gerald’s. As best as he could, Gerald brought her closer to him, his hands covering her ears as he sang loudly. The battle raged on behind him, theoccasional piercing of an arrow sticking into his body. And still, he remained singing, keeping Mollie’s ears covered and ensuring her sight was of him and him alone.
Then, suddenly, an angelic face appeared. The world froze in place as Gerald stared, wondering if his injuries had finally taken hold. She was ethereal, her hair flowing, touched by curling firelight. Her eyes were deep and brown, with hints of gold captured in their wide, endless expanse. His breath escaped in a rush, unable to look away.
At least, until Aileen’s hands found his face.
“Go, Gerald! They’re raising the gate!”
Gerald blinked, brought violently back to reality as his wife fully took the place of the angel. The gate rattled beneath his arms, and as he pulled back, Aileen grabbed Mollie and pulled her into her embrace.
As the pair stumbled back, the gate flew open in its entirety, and he briefly caught sight of Arthur and the gate guards straining against the chain pulley. Nathan appeared soon after, a wooden whistle in hand as a high-pitched shrill shattered the air.
And the Beast of Braeriach was soon joined by his hounds of hell.
They all surged past him as they raced across the snow, Bannock leading the blood-frenzied charge. She lunged across the air andwent for the throat of Carswell’s closest warrior, her pack soon swarming his fallen body as others followed suit.
Panic clung to the air as gurgling shrieks rang out, followed soon after by the clang of steel as Gerald’s men acted as support for the beasts. They rushed from the gate in droves, pushing Carswell’s assault back into the fields as the snow around them was soon dyed scarlet. That left Gerald entirely focused on Laird Carswell himself, still engaged with Rory between the archway of the gate.
“Carswell!” Gerald’s bellowing threw him forward, an overhead swing shattering the blade in the cowardly Laird’s hand. Shimmering metal caught the sunlight as Carswell only briefly registered his empty hilt, only to scream out in pain as Gerald’s blade finally dug into his shoulder. He pushed it further, chewing through bone and severing the man’s arm completely.
It landed in a limp, bloody pile against the snow, Carswell’s screams still filling the air as Rory followed up with an upward slash across his chest. His man-at-arms then kicked the man square in the ribs, forcing Carswell to lurch back into Gerald as he positioned his sword’s point forward and ran the man straight through.
“In yer next life,” Gerald snarled in Carswell’s ear. “Take care nae to cross paths with beasts far bigger than ye.”
Yanking his sword free, Carswell only offered a gurgling gasp in reply before collapsing into a heap in the bleeding snow.
29
Aileen almost couldn’t believe it. The world stood still as the snow ahead of her slowly turned red, fat flakes from the slate-colored sky overhead already beginning to cover the deceased men. She couldn’t help but cast a glance at Carswell’s body, shuddering at both the sight and the sudden dip in temperature. Taking her hands off of Mollie’s ears, Aileen gathered her sister up into her arms, shifting her cloak to completely cover the poor girl.
“Lady MacLiddel!” Arthur stumbled through the snow, a swarm of guards accompanying him as the hounds quickly followed suit. Aileen was suddenly surrounded by bodies, and she clung tightly to Mollie, dizzy from the frantic questions about her and Mollie’s safety and the deerhounds howling and barking. But soon, everything fell to silence as everyone turned toward the front gate—toward Gerald—forcing his body forward as Rory hovered nearby, ready to catch his laird if need be.
He looked … terrifying. An arrow shaft stuck out from her husband’s arm, with a few gashes still freely bleeding. Already, his exposed skin was purple with bruising, and his expression … Aileen realized he was staring directly at Mollie, the harsh lines of his face stiff as his eyes portrayed a hint of … of … fear.
“She’s all right,” Aileen insisted. “We’re all right, thanks to ye.” She moved to lift her cloak, only for Gerald’s hand to rest against hers, stopping her in her tracks.
“I …” Gerald exhaled, a cold cloud billowing out from his throat. “I daenae want her to see me like this.”
Somehow, his words both warmed and bit against Aileen’s heart. With a slight nod, she stepped aside and allowed her husband to stride past, with both men and hounds alike following suit. Quietly, they all watched as their laird made his way back into the keep, a mixture of awe and trepidation. The beast had been let loose, but it was difficult to tell if he’d fully tired himself out just yet.
Aileen couldn’t quite remember when she made it inside, nor when she’d sat down and been covered in heavy quilts. She could feel the heat of her cup against her palm, knew that—at some point—both Arthur and Olivia had visited her to ensure she was all right.
Not once had Mollie left her lap, and when the poor girl finally fell asleep, Aileen was aware that Sarah had come to help tuck her into bed. She gently brushed her hand across her sister’s face, her blonde hair as tangled as her mind was.
