The first attacker lunged. He was a big man, draped in a dark cloak that billowed around him as he moved—and he moved fast. Before Halvard knew it, their blades met with a clang, the force of the clash reverberating up his arm. His bones rattled with it, but he was swift to parry the next blow and the one after that, keeping the man back, even as his attacks were relentless.
When he attacked for the third time, Halvard met him with a brutal strike to the chest, cutting him open from shoulder to rib. Then, he pivoted to catch the second man’s blade on his own, stopping the attack in its tracks. The man snarled, pushing forward with desperate strength, but Halvard slammed his shoulder into him, knocking him off-balance before driving his sword through the man’s ribs.
Elsie screamed again, her terror echoing off the tree bark around them. The third man was dragging her, his arms locked around her, her legs kicking wildly. She bit his hand, and he cursed, raising a fist to strike her.
Halvard’s voice thundered through the clearing, primal and savage. “Touch her an’ ye’ll nae live long enough tae regret it.”
The man froze—not for long, but just long enough for Halvard to reach him.
Without hesitation, he ripped Elsie free from his grip, swiftly pulling her behind him. The man charged at them both, his sword raised high and ready to attack, but Halvard pushed him back, desperate to keep Elsie safe.
When the man charged him once more, Halvard side-stepped him, pulling Elsie along behind him, and then with a swing of his sword, he delivered his own attack—only for the man to parry it. But Halvard gave him no time to counterattack; he headbutted the man so hard the crunch echoed.
And the man collapsed in a heap.
His breathing harsh, his chest heaving, Halvard scanned the tree line, just as Sten barreled into the clearing.
“Keep one alive!” Halvard barked.
Sten lunged at the last conscious attacker, the one trying to crawl away, and slammed him into the ground. Rope snapped tight around the man’s wrists within seconds.
And suddenly, the forest was quiet again, except for Elsie’s breathing—rapid, trembling, too pale to bear.
Halvard turned. His hands shook as he looked at her, wide-eyed and frightened, her face pallid, her lip trembling as she tried—and failed—to speak.
He told himself it was the adrenaline, the rage. But the truth was that he had never been this afraid in all his years of battle.
“Elsie…” His voice came out rougher than stone. He closed the distance and cupped her face, his hands hovering over her as he checked for injuries. “Tell me what happened.”
“I… I couldn’t ignore the child,” she said. “A little boy, alone on the path. He was crying, saying his mother was injured.” Her voice broke. “I only meant to help them but … but those men grabbed me.”
O’ course. O’ course it was her heart that had put her in danger.
Halvard wanted to be furious, to roar at her, to shake sense into her. Instead, he exhaled shakily and rested his forehead against hers. She smelled like cold air and fear, and something inside him snapped and softened in the same breath.
“Ye shouldnae have gone alone,” he said harshly. “Christ, Elsie.”
“I know.” Her fingers fisted in his tunic, holding onto him as if he was an anchor. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I nearly lost ye.”
The words slipped out, raw and unfiltered. The thought struck him like a fist. He didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to her, if he lost her. How could he ever live with himself? How could he ever live with the knowledge that he had failed her, that he hadn’t been there to save her?
Danger seemed to loom everywhere around them. No matter where Halvard looked, he found another trap, another danger lurking in the shadows.
Something thick and magnetic pulled them together and the air thickened between them. Her gaze dropped to his mouth as Halvard’s grip slid under her jaw, tilting her face up.
The kiss struck like a spark to tinder.
Halvard devoured her, hungry and furious. His relief tasted like desperation. Elsie melted into him, her hands sliding up hisshoulders, clutching him as though anchoring herself. His world narrowed to the press of her lips, the warmth of her breath, the tremble in her body that told him how close she had come to being taken from him.
It was only Sten’s exaggerated throat-clearing that snapped the moment.
Halvard broke the kiss slowly, reluctantly, resting his thumb against Elsie’s cheek.
“The boy,” she said, instantly distraught again. “He ran when they grabbed me. Halvard, he’s alone out there?—”
“The boy?” Halvard asked with a frown. “The same one who lured ye intae this trap?”
