Cold metal pressed to her throat.
“Stay back!” the intruder hissed in a voice that was muffled beneath the mask. “One step closer and she dies!”
Davina’s breath caught in terror. The knife trembled against her skin, close enough that she could feel its chill. Baird froze where he stood, his sword raised but his eyes locked on hers.
“Let her go,” Baird snarled.
The intruder shifted, dragging Davina half a step closer to him. “Drop the blade.”
Baird’s grip tightened on the hilt. “Ye’ve nay chance of leaving this castle alive.”
“Perhaps nae,” the man spat venomously, “but others like me will follow, be assured of that.”
Davina barely dared to move, her pulse pounding so hard she could hear it. Her gaze flicked to Baird, getting lost in his eyes which were like storm clouds, calculating his next movement.
“Baird,” she whispered his name.
“I’ve got ye, lass,” he murmured, taking a careful step forward.
“Nae another inch!” the intruder shouted, pressing the knife harder.
Baird stopped. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Danger closed in, sharp as a blade poised to cut her life short.
CHAPTER TWO
The knife pressed harder, cold and sharp against Davina’s throat. She dared not breathe too deeply. One movement and it might all be over.
“Please,” she whispered, not sure to whom she spoke: to Baird, to the heavens, or to the man who held her life in his hands.
“Quiet,” the intruder hissed, jerking her closer.
That was his mistake.
In that fraction of a second, Baird moved in a flash of steel. His sword swept upward in a clean, controlled arc, striking the intruder’s wrist with brutal precision. The knife flew from his hand, clattering across the floor.
Davina stumbled away as Baird closed in. The intruder swung wildly, landing a blow against Baird’s shoulder. The clang of metal on metal echoed through the corridor. Baird struck back,a fierce downward slash that the intruder barely dodged. Sparks flew as his blade scraped the wall. The man lunged, catching Baird’s arm, and they crashed hard into the stone.
Davina pressed herself against the wall, watching in horror as the two men fought in a blur of movement and gritted breath. Baird’s strength was relentless; he drove the intruder back with each strike, his sword cutting through the air with savage precision.
The intruder ducked low, grabbed the fallen dagger, and slashed toward Baird’s ribs. Steel grazed flesh. Baird grunted but did not falter. He caught the man’s wrist, twisted sharply, and slammed his fist into the intruder’s jaw.
The masked man staggered. Baird followed through, one hard shove against his chest that sent him sprawling onto the flagstones. The dagger clattered free again. Before he could rise, Baird’s boot pressed down hard on his throat.
“Yield,” Baird growled.
The intruder wheezed, and his eyes were flashing hatred. He tried to reach for another hidden blade, but Baird’s sword was faster, and it acted in a single, brutal thrust beneath the ribs. The breath left the intruder in a ragged gasp.
Baird stepped back as the body of his opponent went still, the scarlet bloom spreading across the man’s tunic. Two guards came sprinting up the corridor.
“Me laird!” one shouted.
Baird didn’t look up. He wiped his blade clean on the dead man’s cloak. “Too late,” he said quietly. “He made his choice.”
Davina pressed a trembling hand to her neck, where the knife had grazed her skin. “It’s over?” she asked softly.
Baird turned to her, his chest rising and falling with the weight of battle. “Fer now.” His voice softened as he stepped closer. “Are ye hurt?”
She shook her head, though her knees threatened to give way. “Only frightened.”
