With her head on his chest and her arm flung loosely across his stomach, he could feel the soft rise and fall of her as she slept. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her. Her hair was a mess, curling damply on her forehead and sticking to her cheek. Yet she was beautiful.
He ran his fingers lightly over her back, tracing the line of her spine. He marveled at how perfectly they fit together, how their lovemaking had felt so...so right. He had been with women before, but none had ever made him feel like this — complete in a way he hadn’t known he was missing.
He kissed the top of her head gently, his heart swelling with tenderness for the woman sleeping so trustingly in his arms. His Isabelle.
His eyes slowly closed as he succumbed to the comfort of Isabelle’s warmth. He felt himself floating on the edge of consciousness, not quite asleep, not quite awake, when a sudden sound made his eyes fly open. He couldn’t quite place what the sound was or where it had come from. As he lay still, listening hard, it did not come again. Even so, his senses were suddenly on edge, instincts telling him that something wasn’t right.
He eased himself out from beneath Isabelle, careful not to wake her, and stood up. He cocked his head to one side, straining to make out the tiniest sound. Nothing.
He glanced over at Isabelle, curled up on the bed of fur and wool, her chest rising and falling softly. The fire danced shadows across her peaceful face as she dreamed. Magnus found himself hoping she dreamed of him.
But for him there would be no sleep tonight. Instead, he gathered his clothes, quietly began dressing, then padded over to the window and looked out. Nothing moved in the darkness beyond, not even a cat. And yet, a shiver walked over his skin.
He pressed himself into the shadows at the side of the window and waited. Finally, he saw it—quick furtivemovement in the stable yard outside, and the flash of steel. His stomach tightened with sudden dread. Moving silently, he walked over to Isabelle and shook her awake.
“What—?” she began sleepily.
He pressed a finger against her lips and leaned close. “Get dressed,” he murmured. “We’re in danger.”
Her eyes widened, and all sleepiness left her gaze. Without a word, she climbed out of bed and began hurriedly dressing. Magnus had left his weapons in his own room—for which he silently cursed himself as an idiot—so he picked up the poker from the fireplace and crept to the door. He put his hand on the door handle—and it burst open with a crash.
A body slammed into Magnus, knocking him back a step, and then shrouded figures came flooding into the room, steel glinting red in the light from the embers of the fire.
Magnus reacted with swift precision, swinging the poker with brutal force. It hit the first intruder in the stomach, doubling him over and winding him. A second man lunged at him with a knife, but Magnus was quicker, pivoting on his heel and bringing the poker crashing down hard onto his attacker’s skull. The man crumpled to the floor.
The room became a storm of movement as Magnus fought off the attackers one by one. A searing pain shot through his shoulder as a blade found its mark, but he pushed the pain aside. He couldn’t afford to falter now. He could hear Isabelle moving behind him, her own breaths coming in short, panic-filled gasps.
There was not enough room to move in the confines of the room, not if he wanted to keep himself between theattackers and Isabelle. He heard a low, throaty growl from the hallway. And then, bursting through the doorway came a fury of snarls and barks.
Snaffles launched himself at one of the intruders, who let out an agonized shriek as the dog clamped down on his forearm. Teeth sank deep into flesh and tugged, ripping away skin and cloth alike. The man went down, screaming and whimpering.
Drawing strength from the unexpected ally, Magnus swung out once more with his makeshift weapon, catching another man in the chest with enough force to send him crashing back into the wall.
Snaffles, snarling, tried to get to Isabelle, but a boot came out of nowhere and caught the dog squarely in the ribs. With a startled yelp, Snaffles was sent clattering into the wall. The dog tried to get up, but his legs wobbled and gave out under him, sending him collapsing onto the floor. He lay there, silent and unmoving.
“Snaffles!” Isabelle screamed.
Magnus roared in defiance and fury, the sound echoing around the room like thunder. Then he was swinging again, driving back another attacker with a well-aimed strike to the knee. The man screamed and crumpled to the ground.
Behind him, he heard Isabelle’s startled sob. She threw herself towards the fallen dog, ignoring the danger. Magnus spun, arm out towards her, but too late. A man darted out from the ring that surrounded Magnus, and lunged at her.
With a cry, Isabelle danced back, out of his reach, and then aimed a savage kick at his shin that had him hopping on one foot. She reached Snaffles and went down on her kneesat the dog’s side, but a moment later, the man grabbed her by the hair, hauled her to her feet, and pressed a knife against her throat.
Magnus froze, the poker still raised. He stared at the man who held Isabelle, his pulse roaring in his ears. The world seemed to lurch sideways as he watched the man sneer at him, Isabelle’s terrified eyes locked onto his.
“Drop it,” the man growled, blade pressing dangerously against Isabelle’s exposed skin. “Or I swear she’ll be the first to die.”
“Get your hands off me!” Isabelle cried. “You hurt my dog, you bastard!” She tried to struggle, but the blade so close to her throat kept her pinned.
Magnus hesitated, every instinct screaming at him not to let go of his weapon. But with a choked sound, he let the poker clatter to the floor.
The man’s smile widened. “Wise move.”
Magnus took a step closer. His shoulders hunched, his fingers itched with the need to close around the man’s throat and squeeze. “What do ye want with us?”
“Me?” replied the man. “I want nothing. I just follow orders. But the man who gives those orders would like to talk to ye. Come quietly and neither of ye will be hurt.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Isabelle snarled, her eyes swiveling to fix on Snaffles who lay unmoving. “Let me go!”
