Highlander The Cursed Lord (Highland Intrigue Trilogy 3)

Never had he wanted to kill a man as badly as he did at that moment.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” she asked and before he could respond, she kissed him quick, then her hands roamed over his face to make sure the blood there was not his.

“None of the blood is mine, and you?” he asked, amazed that she thought of his well-being after what she had gone through.

“I am unharmed. You saved me before he could choke me to death.” She kissed him again.

“From the looks of what I saw upon entering the cottage, you did a fine job of protecting yourself,” he said, admiring her courage.

“Until you could get to me,” she said. “The painful scream alerted me to how many men were left. I knew it would not take you long to reach me.”

“There would have been no problem if you obeyed me and secured the door,” he reminded.

“I misjudged,” she confessed with a cringe. “I thought I could at least get one, then secure the door and at least favor the odds for you. Unfortunately, the other fellow was too quick.”

“You should not have taken the chance,” he scolded, the fear he had felt for what might have happened to her finally fading now that she was safe in his arms.

Disbelief filled her face. “I would never desert you when you need help.” She kissed him before he could respond.

He cherished that she kissed him so freely and went to return the kiss, needing more than a quick kiss from her, when they heard a groan.

“One lives?” he asked, surprised.

“The soup burned his face and neck badly but did not kill him,” Bliss said.

“You did well, wife,” he said and reluctantly stepped away from her. “You will remain here while I question him.”

“Nay,” she said, reaching out to grab his arm. “We do this together.”

“I will not have you see what I do to him to get answers, nor will I allow you to see what I did to the man who I dragged out of here,” he argued.

“I will not be left out of this or be left alone again. I will remain by your side, husband—no matter what.”

No matter what.

Never had he had such a strong commitment from any of his wives. That she would stand by his side no matter the circumstances left him feeling that she actually cared for him.

“You will leave when I tell you to,” he ordered.

She agreed with a nod and a promise. “Aye, you have my word on it.”

He took her hand, and they left the cottage.

Rannick dragged the injured man away from the cottage.

“Please help me. Please, I beg of you. My face is on fire. Help me,” he pleaded.

Bliss glanced at the burn on her wrist and how it stung and felt like it still burned. She could only imagine how he felt, blisters already starting to form on his face and unable to open his eyes. She had to remind herself that he had intended to kill her, yet the healer in her ached to help him, though there was little she could do for him.

Rannick stepped closer to the man writhing in pain on the ground. “Tell me what I want to know, and I will end your life quickly.”

The man groaned. “I know little.”

“You must know who sent you?” Rannick demanded.

“Nay,” the man moaned. “Please, I beg of you, help me.”

“Who sent you?” Rannick asked, ignoring the man’s pleas.

The man struggled to speak. “I do not know.” A single tear slipped from one eye, and he cried out when it touched his burned skin.

“Are you a mercenary?” Bliss asked.

“Nay,” he whimpered.

“You are part of the group who believes the cursed lords must die along with their clans so the curse will end?” Bliss asked.

The man continued to groan. “Must end, no choice.”

Bliss had difficulty not stepping forward and doing what she could for the man. The numerous and severe burns would be difficult to survive, and the pain would grow much worse. He could linger for days as blisters continued to form and the skin began to peel, and fever could set in. It would not be an easy death.

She looked to her husband. “I should help him.”

“You will not help him,” Rannick ordered firmly. “Did you not hear him? It must end. He would use his last breath to see his task done. They all came here to die if necessary.” Rannick nudged the man hard in the leg with his booted foot. “Isn’t that right? You will die for the cause.”

The man shook his head, then moaned from the pain. “Not slow and tortuous like this.”

“Then provide me with information or I will let you linger in your suffering,” Rannick said with another kick to his leg.

The man struggled to speak. “I know nothing.”