Page 30 of Highlander’s Evil Side

Fraser pulled away from her, grabbing her chin with his thumb and finger and gently lifting her up to meet his gaze. “Ye did more than enough.” He smiled softly at her, his nose nuzzling hers. “Ye were fierce and strong.”

Beitris’s bottom lip quivered, and she ground her teeth to keep another sob from surfacing. “Ye must see a healer.”

Fraser pressed his forehead against hers, his fingers moving to stroke her cheek. “I will speak with a healer as soon as I can,” he whispered.

Beitris reached up, stroking his wound lightly with the tips of her fingers. She sniffed, stifling her anguish as she watched his face contort into a painful grimace.

“Fraser, yer back so soon.”

Beitris turned, seeing Helga striding into the hall, worry tenting her brows while she clutched at her shawl. The elder Lady MacClery looked around as if searching for something or someone. Her eyes widened when she turned her weary gaze on her son, lingering on the injury to his head.

“Yer injured,” Helga breathed. “Were ye attacked?” she asked, louder this time.

Fraser winced. “I will be fine, Mother. ‘Tis only a scratch, I assure ye.”

Beitris held her sigh. It wasn’t only a scratch. She knew of men getting struck in the head and dying in the night and worried the same would happen to Fraser. It could be much more than a simple cut.

“My laird,” said a servant, running into the hall while carrying several thick brown blankets in her arms. Without a word, she bowed her head and offered them to him.

Beitris heard flickering and turned away from Helga, watching as the fire caught to the wood. Blankets were thrown over her form, and she nuzzled into Fraser’s arms, enjoying the warmth settling into her frigid skin.

“Prepare a hot bath for the lady when yer able,” said Fraser as the servant slowly backed away.

She nodded briskly before turning on her heel.

Helga stepped in front of them, wringing her hands while glancing between Beitris and Fraser. There was pain and worry written on her face. She reached towards Beitris, pressing a hand against her chilled cheek. Beitris bit back a hiss. The elder woman’s hand was just as icy as the water she jumped into.

Helga’s mouth opened, but she shook her head, quickly withdrawing from the couple. She cleared her throat and turned around, her back facing Beitris as she said, “I will ensure Beitris is properly changed. Why don’t ye go to the healer, Fraser?”

Beitris moved to slide from his lap, but Fraser seized her hand, pulling her closer towards him. A spark ignited deep within her, reminded of how he held her, how he kissed her. Her gaze slipped to his parted lips, and she shivered when she lifted her gaze, sensing his thoughts had also returned to that time moments before the brigands attacked.

“Would ye care to—” Fraser started.

“My laird!”

Fraser turned towards the sound, and Beitris followed his gaze, watching as a soldier rushed into the hall. His breathing came out in pants, his eyes wide with worry. “My laird,” he said, stopping a foot before them and bowing low. “There has been an attack. The villages in the west. They call for aid.”

Fraser straightened. “What happened?” he asked sternly, sliding out from underneath Beitris and gently helping her into the chair. “Where’s the rider? The village elder?”

The soldier shook his head. “Nae one came, my laird. We’ve seen the fires from the tower.”

“Fires,” Beitris breathed, fear making her shiver and burrow within her blankets.

“If we do not go now, we may lose the whole of their crops.”

Fraser turned away from her, following the soldier out of the hall. Beitris’s legs wobbled as she stood. They had only just returned. She couldn’t let him go when he needed to see a healer.

“Fraser,” she called, wincing as she stumbled forward, trying to catch up to him. “Can it not wait an hour?” Tears sprung to her eyes when Fraser didn’t turn around. “Fraser, yer injured. Ye need to see a healer.”

“Beitris, ye mustn’t,” she heard Helga call after her, but no one could stop her.

She needed to keep Fraser safe.

Beitris followed him out of the keep, stumbling to keep up with his brisk pace. “Fraser!” she shouted, watching him grab the reins and tug his horse towards the gate. “Fraser, stop! Ye must wait until the healer has a look at ye.”

Her heart stalled as she found a man watching from the corner of the courtyard, shrouded in a dark cloak casting his face in darkness. She could only make out blue eyes watching her, chilling her insides and making the hair on the back of her neck rise.

Beitris frowned. She recognized that gaze, but from where? She clenched her jaw, infuriated she couldn’t place them. Her hands shook as she desperately searched her memories, needing to know why and how she knew those eyes.