Entrusted to a Highlander (Highland Promise Trilogy 2)

Purity moved so that her arm touched her husband’s. She needed to be close to him, to feel the strength of his taut muscles. She believed evil existed and she believed Arran when he told her that Brynjar was evil, but seeing it for herself, seeing how he delighted in another’s suffering was frightening.

“What do you want, Brynjar?” Arran asked.

Purity couldn’t help but glance at her husband. There was a coldness to his voice she hadn’t heard before this and his dark eyes showed not a trace of emotion nor did his face. It was almost as if a mask had slipped over him.

“Did you foolishly think I would leave when informed of Galvin’s death?” he asked with a mocking laugh.

“It would have been wise of you,” Arran said and Purity shivered his voice was so icy.

“You are a fool to think you could get rid of me that easily,” Brynjar warned.

“There is nothing left here for you. This isn’t your homeland. These aren’t your people. You leave yourself vulnerable by remaining here and it surprises me that you would do such a thing.”

“SHE,” Brynjar shouted, pointing to Purity, “and this clan and land belong to me!”

“Purity is not yours and never has been and that goes for this clan and land as well. Your agreement was never valid. You need to face the truth, Brynjar—you lost this battle.”

Brynjar’s nostrils flared. “I never lose a battle.”

“Need I remind you that you lost to Wolf?” Arran asked, though didn’t wait for a response. “Take yourself home. You’re not wanted here and you’ll find no victory here.”

Brynjar raised his hand in a fist, shaking it. “I was promised—”

Her husband’s sudden movement had Purity stumbling back and she was shocked to see Arran’s fist jabbing Brynjar in the chest.

“Return home or I will see you dead,” Arran threatened.

“You don’t frighten me,” Brynjar said, sticking his face close to Arran’s.

“Then you’re more a fool than I thought,” Arran said and turned away from the man to return to his wife’s side. “You have few men and Wolf’s warriors grow in number nearby. Who do you think will be the victor?”

“Wolf lost a warrior. You lost a man. Galvin lost his life. I wonder who will be next?” Brynjar questioned, his mouth twisting in a sneer.

“Be careful it’s not you,” Arran warned.

Brynjar’s face turned a startling red. “You’ll rue this day, Arran.”

Arran grinned, not at all a pleasant grin. “Rue this day? I celebrate this day I claimed victory over you.”

“This is not over,” Brynjar threatened.

“You’re right,” Arran agreed. “It won’t be over until you’re dead.”

Brynjar looked as if to speak but nothing left his mouth and rage had his eyes bulging as if they would pop from his head.

“Freen, see that Brynjar and his warriors leave our land,” Arran ordered.

“I’m going to enjoy squeezing the life out of you,” Brynjar said with an angry growl.

“And I’m going to enjoy the look on your face as I drive my sword through you and watch you die.”

Arran’s icy tones had Purity shivering again, believing he would do as he said. Brynjar must have believed it as well since she saw a shudder run through the man.

Purity turned to her husband as soon as they were alone and she saw what she feared. The mask was still in place, not a hint of the old Arran could be seen. Brynjar had managed to poke, disturb, and wake the man that endless battle had born. It angered her since she had seen how his old self had been slowly returning, and she enjoyed his teasing and charming ways. She feared what it might not only do to her husband, but to what they had built between them.

“Please don’t let him destroy what we have found,” she said, her hand latching on to his arm, afraid if she let him go she might lose him forever.

He ignored her remark. “I have things to see to. You will give me your word that you will not venture out of the keep tonight.”

“And you gave me your word you would not be long,” she reminded, wanting desperately to get him in bed and remind him of what they had together and all the promises to come.

His eyes grazed hers as he turned his head to keep an eye on the door. “Your word, wife.”

“Arran,” she said, sensing the man she loved had slipped deep somewhere inside him.

He grabbed her by the arms. “I will hear nothing but your word spill from your mouth.”

She wouldn’t argue with him, not when she caught a hint of the evil Brynjar must have seen in him, and it frightened her. “I will do as you say, husband.”

Purity rubbed her arms as he walked away, not turning once to glance back at her or utter a single word. It pained her to think that after all he’d been through, after all he had escaped, after all the healing he had managed to do that a few words from one awful man could do such damage.