They were almost at the birlinn when desperation made Claricia reckless. She slammed her head backward into her captor’s nose—felt the satisfying crunch of cartilage—and his grip loosened just enough.
She twisted, stumbled, tried to run but her bound hands destroyed her balance. She tumbled forward, momentum carrying her toward the water’s edge where Duncan stood bellowing orders.
She crashed into him.
They both went down. Cold water rushed over her head—salt burning in her nose and throat—and for one terrible heartbeat she was drowning again, helpless and sinking.
She kicked hard, breaking the surface. Her hands were still bound, but Erik had taught her enough. She found something wooden—part of the birlinn—and clung to it desperately, gasping for air.
“Yebitch!” Duncan surfaced beside her, fury transforming his face into something monstrous. His hands found her throat, pushing her under?—
Then he was gone, ripped away by a force like a striking serpent.
Erik!
Claricia broke the surface again, coughing. Through water-blurred eyes she saw them—Erik and Duncan locked together in the shallows, both more beast than men.
Erik’s fist connected with Duncan’s jaw. Once. Twice. The sound of bones breaking carried across the water. Duncan staggered but rallied, landing a vicious strike to Erik’s ribs that would have felled a lesser man.
Erik barely flinched.
“She’smine.” Each word punctuated by another devastating blow. Erik’s knuckles split against Duncan’s face, blood mixing with seawater. “Ye. Bloody. Bastard!”
Duncan fought back with the desperation of a man who had nothing left to lose. His fist caught Erik’s temple. For a heartbeat Erik swayed, and Claricia’s heart stopped.
Then Erik smiled—all teeth, no warmth—and grabbed Duncan by the throat.
“Me turn.”
He drove Duncan backward into deeper water, using his superior size and strength to force his enemy under. Duncan thrashed, clawing at Erik’s arms, but the Wolf of Skye was relentless. When Duncan surfaced, gasping wildly, Erik’s fist was waiting—another crushing blow that sent blood spraying across dark water.
“This is fer hurtin’ me wife.” Erik’s voice was deadly calm despite the violence. Another strike, this one to Duncan’s ribs. The crack echoed sickeningly. “That’s fer makin’ her afraid.”
Duncan’s hand shot to his belt, finding the dirk hidden there. He lunged with surprising speed, his blade aimed for Erik’s throat.
Erik caught his wrist mid-strike. For a frozen moment they stood locked together, muscles straining. Then Erik twisted—sharp and brutal—and Duncan’s wrist snapped with a sound like breaking kindling.
The dirk fell into the water.
“And this,” Erik said quietly, his free hand finding his own blade, “is fer thinkin’ ye could ever take her from me.”
The sword found Duncan’s chest with terrible precision. Duncan’s eyes went wide—shock and understanding and the beginning of fear—as steel pierced through silk and skin and bone.
“She. Was. Never. Yers!” Erik said, each word deliberate as he drove the blade deeper. “She was always mine. From the moment the king spoke her name, she belonged tae me. And the Wolf of Skye protects what’s his.”
He twisted the blade.
Duncan MacRae made a sound—something between a gasp and a sigh—and went limp. Erik held him there for another heartbeat before letting the body slip from his sword into dark water.
Strong hands lifted Claricia from the water. She couldn’t stop shaking—from cold, from shock, from the overwhelming relief of being alive and safe andhis.
“I’ve got ye.” Erik’s voice, rough with emotion as he carried her tae shore. “I’ve got ye, little bird. Ye’re safe now. I’ve got ye.”
He set her down only long enough to cut the ropes binding her wrists with hands that trembled slightly. Then she was in his arms again, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in a tilting world.
“I thought—” Her voice broke. “I thought ye wouldnae come in time. I thought?—”
“Shh.” He pressed his face into her hair, and she felt him trembling too—this fierce warrior who’d just killed a man with his bare hands, shaking like a leaf in her arms. “I willalwayscome fer ye. Always. D’ye understand? There is nowhere in this world ye could be taken that I wouldnae follow.”
