Chapters (45)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Dedication
- Excerpt from Never Love a Highlander
- Other Books by This Author
“Glad you decided to stay with us,” Ewan snapped from the shore.
Alaric treaded water for a moment and glared at his brothers. “What the hell was that for?”
“You’re wasting away for nothing. You haven’t left Keeley’s chamber in a week. You won’t eat. You haven’t bathed. You haven’t even changed clothing. If the injury doesn’t kill her, ’tis likely your smell will,” Caelen snarled.
Alaric swam to the shore and trudged out, shaking the water from his long hair. He bared his teeth just a moment before he leveled Caelen with a tackle.
The two men hit the ground with a thump and Caelen grunted as the breath was knocked from his chest. He recovered quickly and rolled, thrusting his arm over Alaric’s neck.
Alaric slammed his fist into Caelen’s jaw and Caelen reeled back. Before Alaric could jump to his feet, Ewan hit him hard, driving his shoulder into his belly.
“God’s teeth, are you all trying to kill me?” Alaric demanded as Ewan pinned him to the ground.
“Just trying to knock some sense into your thick head,” Ewan growled. “Are you ready to listen?”
Alaric head-butted Ewan in the nose and then rolled until he was atop his older brother. “You’re getting to be an old man,” Alaric taunted.
Caelen leaped back onto Alaric and the three men rolled, fists and curses flying. God but it felt good to beat the living hell out of something.
Several long minutes later, the three men lay sprawled on the ground breathing heavily.
“Ah damn,” Ewan groaned.
Alaric looked over to see Mairin standing over her husband, her hands on her hips.
“You should be resting,” Ewan growled.
“And you should be doing something other than beating each other into pulps!” Mairin snapped. “ ’Tis disgraceful!”
“I don’t know. It felt pretty damn good,” Caelen offered from his position on the ground.
Alaric slowly picked himself up. “Is there any change with Keeley?”
Mairin’s expression softened. “Nay, she sleeps still.”
Alaric closed his eyes and then turned back toward the loch. Maybe a good swim would clear his head and he could bathe while he was at it. Ewan was right. Rotting next to Keeley did no one any good.
“Ewan, the king and all the lairds grow restless,” Mairin said. “They want to know what is to be done.”
“I know it well, Mairin.” There was reproach in Ewan’s voice, as if he had no liking for her bringing up the topic in front of Alaric.
Alaric ignored them both and waded back into the frigid water. He well knew that the king and the lairds waited for Keeley to die so that he could marry Rionna and seal the alliance.
Gannon tossed him a bar of soap and waited on the banks while Alaric completed his bath. Ewan and Caelen returned with Mairin, leaving Cormac behind with Gannon to see to Alaric.