Chapter 15
With the messenger dispatched, all they could really do was watch and wait.
James ensconced Maura safely in the cottage of a widowed woman she had a previous acquaintance with, and he stayed nearby to guard her.
Drust understood that James didn’t want to leave his wife unprotected by his own hand, but he was being pulled by his own need to protect Willa.
And so, cloaked in a spell which would prevent others from sensing his presence, he ventured closer to the castle.
He had intended to go inside, to find Willa and make sure she was safe, but he had been met by a surge of power and he knew he could go no further.
The power felt oddly familiar, dark and insidious.
He could not risk fighting it alone, not when Willa’s life was in danger.
He paced, angry at his inability to act.
All thoughts of right and wrong were gone.
All self-denial a thing of the past. He wanted this woman with every fiber of his being, and everything else could go to hell.
If you had to lose something to know how much it meant to you…
well, he had lost big time. His body was humming with tension, his muscles flexed and ready to fight, but he had to wait for his brother if he was to get her out alive. Hurry Bren.
As if in answer, he at last heard Bren’s voice in his mind.
Drust, where are ye?
He could communicate mind to mind with his brothers only if they were close enough. Bren had come, and the waiting was over. He let out the breath that he had been holding.
I’m here, just outside the castle’s north wall. In the copse of oaks.
It took them no time to find one another, and Drust had never been so happy to see his Bren, or so happy that his eldest brother commanded a large number of well-trained and loyal men. Quickly and without preamble, he filled Bren in on what had happened.
Bren’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the fortified walls of the castle.
“Aye, I feel it too. Something isna right here. It feels almost as if… Mored has had a hand in this.”
Drust had suspected the same, but it sent icy chills of fear down his spine to hear Bren say it. And the fear was not for himself, or even his brother. His woman was in there, and he’d be damned if anything was going to harm her! He flexed his fists in anticipation and nodded to Bren.
“Let’s go.”
***
The surprise attack of a full force of Mac Coinnach warriors made short work of the outer guards, and within minutes they were already fighting their way into the keep.
Drust wielded his sword with a single-minded fury and a near Berserker rage that left no man in his path still standing.
He was mindless with the pent-up violence he had held under tight control while waiting for Bren, and now it was unleashed in its full ferocity.
He was soon spattered with blood from head to foot, but none of it was his own.
Suddenly, he heard a scream from somewhere above that broke through the battle-haze in his mind, and the sound sent icy fingers of terror down his spine.
It was Willa. That sound alone pulled at him like nothing else could, and he was running for the stairs within another heartbeat.
As if guided by an unseen force, and perhaps he was, he knew exactly which room she was in.
Another muffled scream confirmed it. There were two guards outside the closed door, but they were no match for a crazed Mac Coinnach warrior trying to reach his mate.
Drust had sliced the first guard’s head clean off his shoulders before the second could even swing his sword.
Without missing a beat, he grabbed the end of the second guard’s weapon and thrust it straight into his heart.
The thick, heavy door was locked from the inside, but he flung his whole weight recklessly against it again and again until the hinges gave way with a creak and a snap and he was able to kick it open.
He paused in the doorway, only long enough to raise his sword and take in the scene before him.
Willa was lying on a bed, Alive! Thank God!
, her chest heaving with gulps of air as she struggled against a half-dressed man who had her wrists pinioned above her head.
The man turned when the door burst open, but did not release her.
Instead he lifted the dagger he held in his other hand and with a slow smile pressed the shining tip against Willa’s delicate throat.
Drust was fighting every instinct he had, all of them demanding he kill the man threatening his woman. But he had to hold back, be careful, or she could be hurt in the scuffle.
“Let her go… or die!” The man was dead whether he obeyed now or not. He had dared to touch Willa. And he knew that his brother’s men were fighting their way closer even now. Though the sounds of battle were muffled by the thick stone walls, how could the man not know the castle was under attack?
He did know.
The man shot Drust a furious look, and for the first time, he saw his eyes. He knew those eyes. They were burned into his very soul. To his utter shock, it was not just any man.
Mored.