Michelle Willingham - Tempted by the Highland Warrior

The smoke grew worse, and when the children began coughing, Laren picked up her own daughters, one over each hip, as the women gathered together. Marguerite moved to the front of the passageway, but Callum kept at her side, nocking the arrow to his bow.

Her blue eyes held terror and she cast a last look at him.

It will be all right , he wanted to tell her. No one will harm you .

But without the words to reassure her, he reached out and stroked the side of her face with one hand. She held his fingers to her cheek and sent him a nod of trust.

And it was what he needed to face the danger ahead.

Callum left the shelter of the tunnel, studying their surroundings. There were no soldiers on this side of the fortress, nor any sign of them in the forest ahead. Satisfied, he signalled Dougal to cross the bank and take a position on the opposite side of the ditch. With both of them armed, they could protect the others from all sides.

His younger brother obeyed, but Callum didn’t miss the apprehension in his eyes. The lad was afraid, and whether or not he could shoot with accuracy was anyone’s guess.

While Nairna climbed down into the water with Marguerite, Callum kept his bow taut, searching for any threat. From his peripheral vision, he watched the women making their way through the water. Nairna’s dog dove in behind them, paddling across the water. The animal appeared unconcerned by the exodus and Callum took it as a good sign that the enemy had not yet reached this side of the fortress. Bram and Alex must have kept them occupied with fighting in the main fortress.

‘Go and take cover in the trees,’ Nairna told Marguerite, setting her crossbow on the ground. ‘I’ll stay with Dougal and help the women out of the ditch.’

Callum watched over her and Marguerite sent him one last look. He locked the image into his mind, afraid it was the last time he would see her. Her long golden hair gleamed against the sun and her blue eyes filled with worry. Despite the danger, he didn’t regret the moments he’d spent with her. If he died today, at least he’d glimpsed Heaven.

You’re unworthy of her , his conscience reminded him. All you can offer is your protection .

While more women evacuated with their children, Callum could only hold his position until Marguerite disappeared into the forest. He resumed his place on the bank beside the fortress, the arrow poised to shoot. And yet, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. It wasn’t fear—only the raw anticipation coursing through him.

Nairna’s dog began barking and Callum spun, taking aim at the emerging soldiers. He stretched the bowstring taut, adjusting his aim. Slowly, he waited for the soldier to draw near and when he loosed the arrow, it struck the man’s face.

Too high.

He followed up with a second shot to the heart, dropping the man where he’d stood.

A slight motion caught his attention and, while Callum readied another arrow, he saw Marguerite watching from the trees. Whether it was her thanks or a quiet farewell, he met her gaze with the promise to defend her.

His brother Dougal cried out a warning and Callum seized another arrow. When more men crossed to the opposite side, the boy panicked and fired too soon. The arrow struck the ground, but before his brother could run, Callum sent a steady stream of his own missiles into the charging soldiers, one after the other, each arrow striking its intended target.

He dulled his mind to the fighting and death around him, focusing only on bringing down the threat. For the first time in years, he could defend his clan. With his bow, he was no longer less than a man, but equal to his brothers. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t speak, only that he could wield a weapon.

In this, he had a purpose. And soon enough, the women and children would be within the forest, away from the worst of the fighting.

Behind him, Callum heard the groaning of the keep’s tower, while Nairna brought the last of the women out of the water. He kept his gaze focused on his surroundings and saw his brothers Bram and Alex approaching at a full run.

Bram crossed through the water, helping his wife up the hillside before he pulled her into his embrace.

At the sight of them, a tightness expanded through Callum’s chest. Nairna gripped her husband as if she never wanted to let go. He envied them, for he wanted to be with Marguerite, to reassure himself that she was all right. Letting her go while he stayed behind was the only choice, but he didn’t like it.

A shower of fire sparks drifted in front of him and a prickle of awareness caught him. Behind him, a cracking noise resounded, just as his brother roared, ‘Callum, dive!’

He threw himself into the ditch, just as the tower collapsed. The icy water numbed him, but Callum swam to the opposite side, dragging himself out. His bow and arrows were soaked, and he rested on his knees, catching his breath.

Nairna was pushing Marguerite back inside the forest. ‘He’ll be all right. Take the women up to the ridge and I’ll send him soon.’

Callum’s gaze snapped to hers. She was holding on to Nairna, as if she didn’t want to leave. It seemed that she’d started to lead the women away, only to return when the tower had fallen.

As if she cared about him, despite the danger to herself.

If he could have, he’d have abandoned all else, taking her away from the chaos of battle. But that wasn’t a choice. He was bound to defend his family and the only home he’d ever had.

As if to remind him of that, Bram extended a hand and helped him up. And for a moment, he saw the gratefulness on his brother’s face. ‘Thank you for defending them,’ he said below his breath, so that only Callum would hear. ‘And I’m sorry for every day you spent in captivity. I blame myself for it.’

Though he could make no reply, he squeezed Bram’s hand in forgiveness. After what they’d been through, he knew his brother had done everything possible to free him. Nairna sent him a smile of gratefulness, still standing by her husband.

Before his brother Dougal could join the women and children, Callum offered his sword. The lad needed a weapon of his own, now that he’d spent all of his arrows. After taking it, Dougal disappeared into the forest, just as more enemy soldiers emerged, surrounding them on all sides.

Though Callum wanted to reassure himself that Marguerite had escaped with his youngest brother, he forced himself not to look, for fear of drawing the soldiers’ attention there.

Too late.

One of the archers fired several arrows towards the forest before he could bring the man down. Not all of the women had made it to the top of the ridge, and Callum worried that one of them could have been struck. The thought of Marguerite lying prone, her life ended by an arrow, sent a dark rage pulsing through him.

Bram and Alex split off on either side to meet the men, their shields and weapons ready. Callum kept firing at the enemy archers, dropping as many as he could, until he had only a single arrow left. Alex handed him a shield, but he refused it, needing both hands to wield the bow. They were completely outnumbered by the enemy and he saw no way out.

Nairna held fast to Bram while their enemy awaited the order to kill. Callum held his bow steady, hoping he could take out Cairnross or Harkirk with his last arrow.

Even if he did, there was one unavoidable truth. Today he was going to die.

Marguerite clenched her hands together, her heart racing. Though she’d made it into the forest, away from the battle, she couldn’t stop herself from returning to watch. She chose an isolated place near the edge of the trees, her heart numb with fear as Lord Cairnross and Lord Harkirk closed in.