Donna Grant: Shadow Highlander

Reaghan didn’t know how long she had sat, lost in her thoughts, when she heard a soft creak. It brought her out of her musing. She opened her eyes and saw Odara still asleep, and Cara and Marcail resting beside her. Sonya had her legs to her chest once more with her forehead resting on her knees. But it wasn’t until Reaghan looked at Fiona’s sleeping form that she realized Braden wasn’t in the chamber.

Reaghan rose and walked to the entry. The door was open only a crack, not wide enough for any of them to get through.

But wide enough for a wyrran. Or a small boy.

Reaghan didn’t hesitate. She threw open the door and yelled for Braden as she raced down the long corridor.

Only a few torches were lit, casting dark shadows everywhere, but Reaghan never stopped. She raced up the stairs to the great hall and skidded to a halt in front of Larena.

Larena stood with her feet braced apart, her hands on her hips. “What are you doing?”

“Braden,” Reaghan said as she tried to breathe. “He’s gone. I think he went to help the Warriors.”

“By the saints,” Larena cursed, her face going white. “I’ll go look for him.”

Reaghan grabbed Larena’s arm. “Nay. You must guard the others. I’ll look for Braden.”

Larena’s lips thinned in displeasure. “Hurry back.”

“I will.”

Reaghan hoped it was a promise she could keep. Already she had broken her pledge to Galen to stay in the dungeon, but she couldn’t let Braden get caught in the fighting. He was but a lad who knew nothing of battle or weapons.

She ran into the bailey and looked to the battlements, but she didn’t see Braden amid the Warriors battling wyrran. Her ears throbbed with the deafening roars and piercing shrieks.

The MacLeods stood as one, fighting side by side and slaughtering wyrran who climbed the castle wall. Among the Warriors she glimpsed, there was no green-skinned one.

Reaghan was about to return to the castle when she saw the postern door unbolted.

“Nay, Braden,” she whispered in torment.

But even as she prayed the boy wouldn’t leave the castle, she knew he had. The sounds of the battle were thunderous, more terrifying now that she was in the thick of it.

Reaghan took a deep breath and stepped through the postern door. She came to an immediate stop as she saw the sheer mass of MacClures and wyrran. Among them were Druids who were trying desperately to reach the castle.

Broc swooped down from the sky and lifted two of the Druids to fly to the castle. The wyrran had cornered a small group of Druids, most likely for Deirdre, but the MacClures were killing any Druid they saw.

And then she saw the red cloak.

Reaghan’s heart pounded so loudly she feared it would jump from her chest. Dunmore, the man from the loch, the man who wanted to take her. Reaghan couldn’t allow him to see her.

She framed her back against the castle wall and slowly sidestepped so she could look for Braden and not bring notice to herself. He would be difficult to see amid the battle, but she had to find him.

Reaghan drew in a ragged, broken breath when she caught sight of Galen. He was fighting without his shirt, his dark green skin splotched with blood. But it was the violence in which he fought, the utter strength and power he wrought with his body, that held her entranced.

Just as when he had battled the wyrran in her village, Reaghan couldn’t take her eyes off him. Galen moved effortlessly, dominating and annihilating any and all who came near him.

His roars were booming, the strikes of his claws ferocious. He was a Warrior.

And he was magnificent.

Some feared the Warriors, but Reaghan had known from the beginning Galen was different. Her love for him had only grown each day she had been with him and had seen the man, the Warrior he truly was.

It was that love which gave her the strength to search for Braden. Galen would stop at nothing to protect those he cared about, and Reaghan could do no less.

She tore her gaze from Galen and focused on finding other Warriors. Braden had wanted to help them. Reaghan guessed he would stay near a Warrior to render whatever aid the lad thought he could.

It didn’t take her long to find Braden standing not far from Logan. She tried calling out to him, but the boy couldn’t hear her over the battle. Reaghan could go back into the castle and get the attention of a Warrior on the battlements, but they were busy fighting wyrran.

She was on her own.

Reaghan squared her shoulders and lifted her skirts as she raced toward Logan and Braden. The lad had found a sword lying on the ground and was trying to lift it as a MacClure came at him.

A scream lodged in her throat when the MacClure struck Braden with a sword. His small body fell to the ground without a sound as the sword dropped from his hands.

Reaghan rushed to Braden’s side. She stood over him, the sword he had attempted to lift in her hands, as a wyrran came at her.

She had never been so petrified in her life. The wyrran smiled at her, its lips unable to cover the mouthful of teeth. Its long claws clicked together just before it swiped a hand at her.

Reaghan leaned back to avoid being scratched. She tried to swing the sword, but she was more effective in using it to keep the wyrran’s claws at bay than to harm the ugly creature.

Suddenly, Broc fell from the sky behind the wyrran and severed its head from its body. “Reaghan, what in the name of all that’s holy are you doing?” Broc demanded.

Reaghan set the end of the sword on the ground and leaned on it. “Braden. He’s hurt. Take him to Sonya.”

“I’ll take both of you.”

“Nay,” Reaghan said. “I’ll make my way to the castle. Just take Braden before he dies.”

Broc frowned but lifted the boy in his arms and jumped into the air, his wings spread wide. “Get as close to the castle as you can. I’ll come for you.”

Reaghan kept the sword in her hands as she started toward the castle. She smiled when she saw Broc reach the castle with Braden. She had saved him.

An icy chill overtook Reaghan, one of menace and evil. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Dunmore had spotted her. He spurred his horse toward her, his gaze intent on her and her alone.

Reaghan lifted her skirts as she began to run. Behind her she heard a man yell the MacClure name.

A sharp, ferocious pain slammed into her. Reaghan stopped, her feet refusing to move. The sword dropped from her fingers as her vision swam and the world tilted. Her legs gave out and she fell to her knees.

The pain was cruel and brutal as it stole her breath and her ability to move. Something had struck her in the back. But she had promised Galen she would stay safe. She wouldn’t give up now. She would crawl to the castle if she had to.

But no matter how many times her brain told her body to move, nothing happened.

It grew more difficult to breathe. Each time her lungs emptied, her body struggled to fill them up again. She felt something warm and heavy slide down her back.

Reaghan toppled to the side and cried out from the unbearable agony. All she could do was watch from where she lay as Galen and the other Warriors battled back the MacClures and the wyrran.

Reaghan, however, knew her time was at an end.

Sonya rushed from the dungeons into the great hall when she heard Broc bellow her name. It had taken all of them to keep Fiona inside the dungeon as Reaghan searched for Braden. Fiona’s grief-stricken cries had broken Sonya’s heart.

Exhaustion and weariness weighed heavily on Sonya. She had slept little. Not even Broc’s promise to fly the Druids into the castle had helped ease her worry. Nor would it until her sister was beside her.