Highlander’s Captive (Highlander Trilogy 3)

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Wintra had managed to avoid the blow, though it cost her since her hair had been pulled when she yanked away from him, and she thought for sure that a portion of her scalp had been torn away with it. She was surprised, and relieved, to see only a few strands of her hair hanging in his hand.

Owen grew even more furious and lunged at her, and she came up with her hand just as he did and caught him hard in the nose.

Owen stumbled back as blood poured from his nostrils. He looked dazed and it took him a moment to regain his focus. He wiped the blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand, but it did not stop blood spittle from flying as he spoke. “You will pay for that, bitch.”

He lunged at her again, catching her shoulder.

She swerved and released the ties at her neck, and her cloak slipped off along with his hand.

He cursed and rushed at her, but she was quick to step out of his reach. He grew more furious with each unsuccessful attempt. Until, in a blinding rage, he threw himself at her, knocking her down. He scrambled over her, her hands and arms flailing as she tried to deflect the blows he haphazardly threw at her.

Suddenly Owen was gone, and she turned her head to see Torr and him rolling around on the ground a few feet from her. She scrambled to her feet just as mayhem rained down upon them. Her father came charging in with Cree’s warriors and attacked Owen’s men. She hurried out of the way, though remained near, never taking her eyes off her husband as he and Owen got to their feet and exchanged vicious blows.

“I’m going to kill you, and then take your wife with your blood on my hands,” Owen screamed at Torr.

“You do not have the courage. You sniveling coward,” Torr challenged.

Owen lunged at him like a madman and in only minutes Wintra realized that he did not stand a chance against Torr. His punches staggered while Owen’s appeared to glance off Torr. He sent Owen reeling time and again until the man could barely stand. Torr stood firm on his feet, his breathing steady, and his nostrils flaring in anger.

One of Owen’s men tried to help him and Torr took him down with one quick jab in the face. At that one moment, Owen attempted to run. Torr was on him, grabbing his arm, and swinging him around, his fist connecting with Owen’s jaw.

He went down on his knees and Torr circled him like a hunter closing in on his prey. “I really should let Cree have you. Your death would be slow and painful, but I want this done here and now.”

He lashed out at Owen so fast that all Wintra could see was a blur, though she heard Owen scream and saw a bone protruding from his arm.

“That’s for daring to abduct my wife and sister,” Torr said circling him again.

Wintra heard it then—silence. She glanced around to see that Cree’s warriors had won and they now stood watching Torr with respect. She also saw that her father stood looking upon Torr with admiration and pride.

Owen was on his knees, his face deathly pale, his head turned away from his broken arm unable to look upon it.

Torr struck him again, this time breaking his other arm. “That is for causing my sister harm.”

Wintra gasped. Dawn had been hurt? How badly? That was why Cree wasn’t here. He was with Dawn. She prayed for Dawn’s well-being.

Owen cried out, “Enough, mercy, please mercy.”

“You showed no mercy to others. You deserve none for yourself.” Torr took Owen’s head in his hands. “And this is for what you’ve done to my wife and all the other women you have so ruthlessly harmed.” With a vicious twist, he broke Owen’s neck.

Chapter Thirty-five

It was late, the keep quiet after a hectic night. Cree had shouted orders as soon as they had all returned, sending everyone jumping and running at his command. Elsa had hurried from her cottage to attend Dawn in her bedchamber, where Cree had insisted his sister wait so Elsa could tend her wounds as soon as the healer finished seeing to Dawn.

Wintra had tried to explain that she was fine, but there had been no winning against her husband, her brother, and her father. She did not know how she was going to deal with three strong men in her life, but she was happy to try.

She had been so relieved to know that Dawn’s wound had not been as bad as first thought. Elsa had cleansed and bandaged it and ordered her to refrain from using it for a few days until the wound closed sufficiently.

Dawn had worried that she would not be able to talk with one hand.