Before Caelen realized what he was doing, Cameron took aim and hurled the dagger in Rionna’s direction.

“Nay!” Caelen roared.

But it was too late. Cameron’s aim was true and the dagger struck Rionna just inside her right shoulder blade. She staggered, deflected a blow delivered by her father, and then went down on one knee.

Gregor raised his sword again to deliver the killing blow when an arrow struck him in the chest. Caelen never turned to see who’d let the arrow fly. His focus was solely on Rionna.

Rage like he’d never known gave him the strength of a hundred men. He roared Cameron’s name and launched himself at the man who’d felled Rionna.

The two men met with a clash of swords, the sound of metal ringing throughout the courtyard. Caelen fought like a man possessed. He could taste Cameron’s blood. He wanted to bathe in it right after he carved the bastard’s heart from his chest.

But Cameron also fought like a man who knew he was marked for death. Much of the arrogance that Cameron wore like a cloak had disappeared. It was as if for the first time he sensed his own mortality and was desperate to survive.

Weakened by fever and blood loss and the ferocity of the battle thus far, Caelen stumbled back under the force of Cameron’s attack. He dug in his heels and met Cameron’s sword with his own, the impact jarring his shoulders.

With the blades kissing, Caelen thrust his boot into Cameron’s midsection, knocking him back. He followed, pressing his momentary advantage by launching a series of blows that had Cameron retreating.

The insistent clang of metal rang in his ears. Around him the smell of death was thick and cloying. Much of the roar had faded, as McCabes and McDonalds alike worked to dispatch the men who’d sworn their loyalty to a man with no honor.

All Caelen could see over and over was Rionna staggering to her knees before pitching forward to the ground. A sound much like that of a wounded animal bellowed from his throat.

For all Cameron’s cowardice, he was a skilled warrior, and he was fighting for his life. He knocked Caelen back and swung his sword. Caelen went to his knees and jerked his head back so the blade cut through empty air just an inch from his throat.

His shoulder burned, stinging from sweat and slick with blood. His strength was fast ebbing and he had to end this quickly. His brothers were occupied with their own battle across the courtyard. There was no one to aid Caelen. He had no reserves to draw on.