Page 27 of Highlander’s Vengeful Seduction

Only it hadn’t. Vanora was still screaming, and so were Angus’ men, but Donal couldn’t hear any of it, focused as he was on fighting his best friend. It broke his heart, knowing that Angus was so much more willing to listen to Vika rather than him, and he didn’t know what he could possibly say to change his mind.

“Angus, please!” Donal shouted, trying to make the other man listen over the sound of clashing iron. “I havnae done aught of which yer accusing me! I dinnae ken what ye want me tae say tae believe me, but I need ye tae listen to me! I dinnae want tae fight ye; I never did! Vika has been lying about everything! Ye must believe me, or at least ye must stop and listen tae me, and then if ye still dinnae believe me, weel…then we’ll see wha’ we can do about that.”

Angus had stopped for long enough to listen to Donal, and Donal watched him as he panted, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t try to attack Angus, of course; he simply stood there, brow furrowed and mouth hanging slightly open in a silent plea.

Angus had his hands on his knees, breathing in deep and trying to regain his composure. The fight had already taken a lot out of him, Donal could tell, and he was silent, worryingly so.

Angus was never silent. He always talked, and he always laughed, even while he and Donal were training. It made Donal’s stomach tie itself in a knot, as though he knew, in a primal level, that he was truly in danger, as though Angus’ fury had turned him into a wild, untameable animal, an encounter that Donal would not survive.

“Angus…please.”

The words were barely anything more than a whisper. Donal knew that he didn’t have many choices. He could either begin to attack Angus back as he fought him, finally besting and killing him, or he could keep defending himself against him and eventually fall dead himself, Angus’ anger overpowering him.

Angus didn’t hear his last plea, or perhaps he didn’t listen. He attacked Donal again, a guttural, primal scream leaving his throat as he did, and Donal could do little other than retreat as best as he could, deflecting and fending off Angus’ attacks as best as he could.

He didn’t want Vanora to see him die like that. He didn’t want her to have to watch him bleed out on the forest floor, just when they had found each other; just when he had promised her to make her his, and to give her the life that she deserved.

She didn’t deserve having to grieve for him.

Before Donal knew it, a curtain of dark locks obscured his vision as Vanora stepped between him and Angus. Donal raised his arm instinctively, wrapping it protectively around her, and he did so just in time.

He felt the stinging pain of his skin and flesh splitting in twain under Angus’ sword, a deep, jagged cut across his forearm that immediately began to bleed. It stained his sleeve crimson, and he could feel the blood as it rushed out of the gash, trickling down his arm, warm and perilous.

Donal looked at Angus, who was staring at him and Vanora with wide eyes. His face was splattered with red drops, and he brought a shaking hand up to it, wiping off some of the blood.

Angus’ sword hit the ground with a muffled thump, and his eyes roamed all over Vanora as he tried to see if he had hurt her, frightened and frantic.

“Stop it!” Vanora shouted, a few drops of her spit landing on Angus’ face as she screamed at him. “Ye’ve done enough! Donal is saying the truth, Angus, and Vika is lying! She has been lying about everything!”

Donal could feel his heart thump in his chest, just as frightened as Angus was. Vanora could have been struck down. She had come so close to dying.

She didn’t seem to care, though.

“Vika is lying, and I have proof!” she said. Suddenly, the entire forest fell quiet.

Chapter Fourteen

“Yer fighting like animals!” Vanora said, instead of procuring the proof that she had promised Angus. “What is the matter with ye? Ye have yer men grab me and restrain me!”

She then turned to look at the man who had held her back while Donal and Angus were fighting, and she began to walk towards him in a slow, controlled pace, all the while making him cower as she approached him, his hands instinctively covering his crotch to protect himself from her.

“And ye, Greig…if ye dare put yer filthy hands on me again, I will do so much more than kick ye in the groin, ye hear? Ye’d think grown men like yerselves would have some common sense in them, but ye are all naught but savages!”

Despite the swords and the blades that the clansmen held in their hands, they were all much more afraid of Vanora’s wrath than they were of each other, and they stayed quiet, none of them wishing to draw attention to themselves.

Vanora walked back to where Angus and Donal were staring at each other, neither man willing to move first.

“Now…Angus, ye’ll stop and listen to me, will ye not?” she asked.

Angus seemed to consider his options for a short moment before nodding. “Aye,” he said. “I’ll listen tae ye.”

Once Vanora had Angus’ assurance that he would not attack Donal again, she reached into the pocket of the latter man’s jacket, pulling out the letter that Vika had sent Ronald all that time ago, along with her handkerchief.

Vanora glanced at Vika, who still stood behind Angus. Unlike earlier, though, when she had a gleam of confidence in her gaze, Vanora could see that the color had drained from her sister’s face, leaving her looking pale and as though she was about to faint.

There was nowhere for her to go. Even if she tried to run, it would be a clear sign of her guilt, and Angus’ men would stop her.

Vanora handed Angus the letter and the handkerchief, thinking it would be better for him to read Vika’s words with his own eyes.