Page 61 of Highlander’s Bride

“Stand behind me, Angus,” said Raghnall. “Turn and leave,” he called to the Ross warriors. “We dinna want yer deaths.”

And as he said that, a war horn sounded from somewhere beyond the outer wall…

“Stop right now, in the name of the king!” sounded the call from beyond the wall. “Yer king commands ye to stop!”

Angus and Raghnall looked at each other, their faces masks of relief.

“He came…” Angus whispered. “I asked the Cambels to call for his help since he favors their clan…and he came!”

Raghnall nodded. “Bruce wouldna have forgotten that ye hid him in Eilean Donan and saved him when he was alone and weak.”

The Ross men were exchanging glances and lowering their weapons. “Dinna stop!” yelled Euphemia.

Raghnall felt relief flooding his body like a warm bath. He relaxed his grip on Euphemia, looking at the gates, through which the king himself, Robert the Bruce, and a large group of warriors were coming. He saw Cambel banners, MacDonald banners, and the banners of other clans that he vaguely recognized.

At that moment, the snake was ready to bite. Using his negligence, Euphemia twisted out of his grasp like a slug, grabbed a knife hidden at the back of her belt, and launched at Angus with a yell. Angus stood with his back to her, looking at the king. She was silent—no victory cries, no war cries.

A snake striking from behind.

She was aiming for Angus’s kidney—a sure way to bleed him to death. Raghnall reached forward, yanked her by the hair, and before he could think, slit her throat with his sword. Angus turned, surprised, only to catch her dying body. Her eyes locked on Angus as the last moments of life were still beating in her, and she saw, perhaps, that Bryanna’s prophecy was right, and that she was dying in the arms of the man she loved.

He’d done it unthinkingly, instinctively. Did he need to kill her? No. He could have restrained her probably.

Had the years as a mercenary and on the battlefield made him so cold, so able to take a life when needed and then move on to the next thing?

No. Mòrag’s death had taught him not to let dangerous people walk away. This woman had tried to kill his family numerous times.

She wouldn’t have stopped, and he couldn’t lose his brother, one of the dearest people he loved.

Bryanna!

Raghnall couldn’t wait another moment, couldn’t stay and greet the king and explain why he’d just committed the murder seen by Robert the Bruce himself as well as hundreds of witnesses.

He sprinted six steps to Bryanna and dropped before her unmoving body.

“Bryanna…” he whispered, stroking her face. It was cold, too cold, but not the cold of a corpse. There was still life in her. He dropped his head to her chest, listening for the thump-thump, thump-thump of her heart…and heard it. It was very weak, but it was there.

She wasn’t dead.

She needed her medicine, her insulin. And he had to take her to a place—a time—where that medicine existed. The future. He put his sword back in the sheath on his belt and picked her up. God’s bones, how light she was, like she weighed nothing. He hurried to Angus.

“Take care of Seoc, Angus. Promise ye’ll take care of him. Tell him I’m sorry, but I must make sure Bryanna lives. I have to take her to the future. There’s medicine there that’ll keep her alive. Here, she’ll die. If I dinna come back, promise ye’ll give my estate to Seoc.”

Angus’s serious eyes locked with his, and he nodded. “Of course, brother. Anything. Ye ken Seoc is safe with us. Go. Save her.”

They nodded to each other, and Raghnall knew he’d never felt closer to Angus than he did now. Not losing any more time, he ran towards the keep. His shoes sank in the wet ground, soft and slurpy from blood. Ross men, who knew that the king had come, were stepping aside and letting him pass. “Open the gates!” yelled Raghnall. “Open the gates! We won! The king is here!”

Slowly, the gates were open, and he ran through them, followed by surprised eyes. As he ran, he noticed that someone had joined him—James, he realized, Catrìona, David, and Rogene…they all followed him. They all knew what it meant.

They had to make sure Bryanna was sent back to her time or she would die, just like she had predicted.

The way downstairs felt like it took forever, even the steps under Raghnall’s feet felt slippery and dangerous. Holding his precious woman like a gift from God, he prayed in his head, for the first time ever—prayed for God to help him. He knew he had had no chance with Mòrag.

But he felt so much stronger now, with Bryanna. Somehow, deep within, he was ready to fight with time itself, or with a million demons or Highland faeries if needed, until his dying breath.

He’d do everything—everything—to make sure she survived.

And if it meant crossing hundreds of years, let it be so.