Gray nodded his approval, then hurried up the stone path toward the private gardens at the rear of the keep.
“Put me down! I can help you. You better listen to me.” Trulie reared back and rolled sideways. She grabbed a hank of his hair and yanked hard, as though she held reins to stop him.
Enough.He plopped her down hard on the square corner post of the inner garden’s low wall. “I willna have it,” he roared. He set his hands on either side of her hips and got right down in her face. “Ye are a stubborn lass. I’ll give ye that. But ye best learn that I am even more stubborn. When I see what I want, I claim it. And once I make that claim, I protect what is mine.”
“I am not—”
“The hell ye’re not!” He tangled his fingers in her loosely braided bun, yanked her forward, and kissed her hard.Mine.A guttural growl shook through him.Mineechoed through his being as he unleashed the claim into the kiss.
Gray finally jerked back. “Ye will stay here,” he ordered. Then he turned and strode away. Minutes later a roaring explosion shook the ground.
* * *
Billowingblack smoke shot through with orange flames that engulfed one side of the stables. Horses’ screams and frantic shouts filled the air as both animals and humans reacted to the chaos.
Trulie hopped off the fence, hiked up her skirts, and took off at a dead run. No way was she going to sit idly by and watch the madness like it was some sort of show.
Scrawny stable boys staggered through the yard, sloshing buckets of water. Men and women came running from all directions. Some stopped to soak yards of cloth in the troughs then hurried to slap the sopping wet rags against the base of the flames. Rearing horses foamed at the mouth, their eyes rolling white with terror.
Trulie dodged the dangerous hooves of a pair of roans being coaxed to safety by a boy who couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old. She ducked underneath the center rail of the wood fence that encircled the training paddock. She needed to get close and reach out with her senses. She had to find Gray.
A watering trough nudged up against a side of the building not yet overtaken in flames caught her eye. Yes. Right there. The shadowy corner called out to her like a beacon through the melee. Heart pounding, she backed up against the wall and wedged herself in the dark corner next to the trough.
Blocking out the shouts and screams, she forced herself to ignore the stench of choking smoke, muddied earth, and manure. She had to focus. Where was Gray? She had to make sure he was safe.
Earlier in the stall, just as she had blissfully lost herself in the pleasure of his kiss, her mind had filled with visions of the impending blaze. Echoing screams of terrified animals had drummed in her ears. An angry bellow had followed a deafening crash and then her senses had filled with the worst sound of all: cold, hollow laughter. Heartless laughter had blocked all else from her mind. She would never forget that sound as long she lived and she had to make sure the owner of that laugh failed at whatever evil he was attempting. She couldn’t bear to hear it again.
A relieved tingle spread gooseflesh across her skin. There. Gray was right there. She shimmied under a tangle of wagons waiting to be repaired and raced around to the outer back wall of the stable. Her heart fell when she spotted the barricaded doors. Someone had worked hard to ensure an escape out the rear of the building would not be possible.
A crashing woosh thundered as the front half of the thatched roof collapsed inward. Black smoke billowed up past the orange sparks showering through the air. The barred doors of the stable shook as something solid hit them. A horse screamed and the doors shook again.
Trulie covered her ears with her hands. The terror echoing in the animal’s cries broke her heart.
An angry bellow roared just behind the doors right before they rattled with another heavy impact on the other side.
Trulie knew that roar. Gray was trapped with one of the horses.
She had to get that post moved. She frantically glanced around the back lot. The clan was battling the blaze from the front of the stable. There was no time to run for help. It was all up to her. She set her shoulder against the wide oak beam butted up against the door and shoved. It didn’t budge.
“Dammit!” She leaned into it again. No luck. The heavy length of lumber barely shifted with her effort. Time to change strategy. She wrapped her arms around the post and yanked upward. The thing still didn’t move from its wedged position.
Tendrils of smoke escaped through cracks in the rear wall. The fire was slowly eating its way to the back of the stable.
She stepped back one more time and examined the jammed beam of wood. Maybe if she crouched under it and lifted with her legs, she could pop the thing out of the way. Leverage was her only hope.
Just as she was about to crawl under the beam, the doors shook again but they didn’t move with nearly the intensity as they had the last time they’d been struck.
“Gray. Hang on. I’m going to get you out of there. Just hang on.” She scrambled underneath the six-by-six wood beam, centered the solid bar of wood across her shoulders, and locked her arms against the side of the barn. With a deep breath, she shoved upward as hard as her legs could push. The beam shifted a bit to the side then wedged atop the cross latch set across the door.
“Dammit!” Staggering a few steps back, she knew she had to do it again. She had to make this work. Positioning herself on the ground underneath the pole, she inched down the beam with her feet until her bent legs were effectively wedged between her body and the wood. Feet angled against the pole, she kicked upward with the mightiest shove she could manage. Relief exploded through her as the beam popped free and tumbled down to the ground.
She jumped up and wrestled the cross latch out of the way, ignoring the rough wood splintering into her as she clawed the doors open.
Her heart nearly stopped as daylight poured into the smoke-filled stable and illuminated the back aisle. The mighty black Cythraul lay motionless, and stretched out on his side beside him, with an arm thrown across the horse’s neck, was Gray.
“You are not going to die on me, Gray MacKenna.” She clenched her teeth and dropped to her knees. Hungry orange flames crackled ever closer as she crawled to him.
There was no way she could physically drag the man or the horse to safety, and there wasn’t time to run and get help. But if she healed them here—she sent up a silent plea to the Fates to let it be so—if she could heal them, maybe they could reach safety under their own steam.
