"Nae so fast, lass."
Tòrr's voice in her ear made her heart sink. How had he caught her so quickly? The battle had only just begun.
"Let me go!" She clawed at his arm, kicking frantically. "They're me faither's men, I’ll go with them!"
"Aye, after they put a sword through me ribs and Cameron's too." His grip was unbreakable as he dragged her back toward the path. "Is that what ye want? Our blood on yer hands so ye can run back tae Da?"
"Aye!" The word tore from her throat with vicious honesty.
They burst back onto the path where Cameron was hard-pressed against three opponents. His skill was evident, but the odds were against him.
"About time," Cameron panted, blocking a vicious thrust. "These lads are more persistent than I expected."
One of Duncan's men broke through Cameron's guard and lunged toward them, seeing Liliane as an easy target to reclaim.
"Behind me," Tòrr commanded, shoving Liliane back as he met the attack with brutal efficiency.
The man's sword whistled past Tòrr's ear as he ducked and came up inside his opponent's guard. His blade found the gap between ribs, and the man dropped with a gurgling cry.
"Me warrior!" Duncan roared, seeing his man fall. "Ye'll pay fer that, MacDonald!"
The two men were clearly old enemies, their swords meeting with the fury of years of accumulated hatred. Duncan was skilled, but Tòrr was faster, his blade work precise and deadly.
"Ye always were too quick with that tongue, MacDonald," Duncan snarled, pressing his attack. "Let's see how quick ye are with steel!"
"Quick enough to send ye tae whatever hell awaits men who prey on women," Tòrr replied, his sword finding Duncan's shoulder, drawing first blood.
But in the chaos of that moment, while Tòrr was focused on Duncan's increasingly frantic attacks, another of the Munro men saw his opportunity. He grabbed Liliane's arm and yanked her away from Tòrr's protection.
“Ye’re hurting me.” She shouted as a steel blade slashed through the silk of her sleeve and the skin beneath.
Pain flared bright and hot as blood began to soak the green fabric. She cried out, more from shock than agony, but the sound seemed to transform Tòrr into something inhuman.
His roar of fury echoed through the forest as he spun toward her attacker, all pretense of civilized swordplay abandoned. There was no mercy in his eyes, no hesitation in his movements. His blade took the man's head from his shoulders in a single, devastating arc.
Liliane froze, the world narrowing to the lifeless body crumpled at her feet.
Tòrr turned to her at once, still breathing hard, his hand reaching for her arm, not rough, but firm enough to ground her.
“Are ye hurt?” he demanded, his voice low and urgent.
She managed a shaky shake of her head, though her pulse thundered in her ears.
“Dinnae look at him. Look at me.”
His hand slid to the small of her back, guiding her a few steps away from the blood-soaked ground.
The remaining attackers faltered, their leader's face going pale as he took in the scene. "That's enough!" Duncan's voice cracked with sudden uncertainty. "We came fer the lass, nae a war!"
"Then ye came tae the wrong place," Tòrr snarled, advancing on him with predatory grace. "Tell yer laird his daughter belongs tae me now. The transaction is complete, the coin paid. If he sends men after her again, I'll return the favor."
Duncan swallowed hard, his sword wavering in his grip. "Roderick Munro willnae forget this insult."
"Good. " Tòrr's smile was all teeth and no warmth. "I'm countin’ on it. He should be ashamed fer endangerin’ his daughter’s life."
"Ye're makin’ enemies, MacDonald. More than ye can handle. Munro has allies. Includin’ Ross, who ye embarrassed in front of everyone by taking his bride."
He gestured with his bloody blade toward the forest. "Take yer dead and get out of me sight before I decide tae send Munro a more... permanent message."
