Page 84 of The Laird who Craved her

Callum's face contorted into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage as he violently crossed the short distance and struck Claire brutally across the face with a sickening crack.

"Enough!" Callum shrieked, his voice breaking entirely with madness and grief.

Everything inside Finn went terrifyingly still as he witnessed the woman he loved collapsing helplessly against the cold mud, her bound hands unable to catch her fall.

Mine.I will tear his beating heart from his chest.

"MacRae!" someone shouted in panic, spotting the massive Highlander exploding from the tree line like a vengeful demon.

Finn collided with the nearest, screaming guard shoulder-first, slamming the unfortunate man violently backward directly into the roaring fire and sending burning logs flying wildly. Another man reached for his sword, but Finn's blade flashed once, and the man folded to the ground with a cry.

"Kill him!" Callum ordered his scrambling men, drawing his own weapon in an absolute panic.

Finn was already coming directly for him, not as a laird or a soldier, but solely as the one man standing between Claire and anyone who dared touch her. They collided violently before either man could fully raise their heavy blades, driving them both into the mud. Finn struck him once, then twice, snapping Callum's head sideways.

"My lord!" Douglas's powerful voice suddenly thundered from the dark tree line, signaling the highly anticipated arrival of the MacRae cavalry.

Douglas burst violently into the clearing with nearly a dozen heavily armored warriors charging fiercely at his back, completely turning the tide of the desperate battle.

"Leave none standing!" Douglas roared to the warriors, his broadsword already completely coated in fresh blood.

Finn frantically searched through the absolute, bloody confusion of the melee, shoving himself to his feet and expertly blocking a sword strike from the left. He pivoted in the mud, slamming the hilt of his sword against a man's temple before a heavy blade scraped violently against his own.

"Face me, MacRae," Callum hissed, raising his heavy blade for another desperate strike as the heavy rain dripped from his hair.

Their heavy swords locked violently together, sending bright sparks flying into the falling rain as the two straining men refused to give a single inch of ground.

"So... ye remember me," Callum mocked him bitterly, a dark smile crossing his lips as he shoved hard against the locked blades.

Finn stared coldly into the deeply scarred face, feeling absolutely zero pity for the broken man fiercely trying to kill him in the mud.

"Aye, Ross. I remember sparing a frightened boy," Finn answered quietly, shoving the man backward with terrifying strength.

The twisted smile instantly vanished from Callum's face as he swung wildly, attempting a completely desperate, sweeping arc aimed directly at Finn's exposed neck.

"Ye should have killed me!" Callum spat furiously, recovering his balance for another frantic strike.

Finn ducked effortlessly beneath the sloppy strike, his blade carving through a low branch instead. He parried the subsequent blows easily, his superior training completely overwhelming the younger, enraged fighter.

"I spared ye because ye were innocent," Finn defended calmly, expertly blocking a vicious downward strike.

Callum swung wildly once again, screaming in absolute agony as the seven long years of festering bitterness finally boiled entirely over into complete madness.

"Everything I loved burned that day!" Callum cried out in overwhelming grief, driving another heavy blow directly toward Finn's shoulder. "My home! My clan!"

Finn gave ground only just long enough to perfectly regain his solid footing, completely waiting for the absolute perfect moment to disarm the frantic man.

"Yer father chose that war. He marched first," Finn countered, his voice echoing through the clearing.

"He was defending what was ours!" Callum roared back, hesitating for just a heartbeat.

"End this. It never had to come to this," Finn warned him darkly, expertly knocking Callum's heavy sword completely aside with a brutal, twisting strike that sent the weapon spinning into the mud.

Callum stumbled backward, completely disarmed and entirely defeated, but his dark, dangerous gaze suddenly shifted entirely past Finn and locked directly onto Claire struggling to sit up.

"Finn!" Claire screamed in absolute terror as Callum moved suddenly in her direction.

Callum violently snatched a sharp hunting knife from his leather belt as he ran desperately through the mud toward her.