Page 16 of Wicked Kilted Highlander

But there came a sudden cry from behind him, and his heart dropped, even as he fought on.

"Nae!" Lara cried, springing to his side, brandishing a sharp-edged rock with a pointed end as a weapon. She stood her ground beside him. "Leave him alone, ye swine!"

Fiercely, she set about helping him beat the attackers back toward the cave entrance, using her rock like an axe on the hands and arms of those who dared to come at her with a blade. One thrust was so hard that it sent her assailant reeling backwards, only to trip and fall into the fire. With his clothes ablaze, he ran shrieking in panic from the cave.

Two foes remained. They came at Darragh and Lara as one, their dirks flashing in the firelight. Darragh's heart thundered in his chest to be fighting beside her.

"Ye'll nae take her!" he roared, his voice reverberating off the cave walls as he landed a solid blow against one attacker, sending him sprawling to the ground. With his free hand, Darragh pushed Lara behind him, shielding her from harm.

"Stay back, Lara," he growled, his eyes never straying from the single opponent now facing him. "Dinnae let him near ye!"

"D’ye want tae die, is that it?" he hissed at the man as they circled each other, blades out.

"'Tis ye who’ll be dead, man, coz I’m nae giving up on that lass, not now I’ve seen her. She’ll make me a rich man," his opponent cackled viciously, waving his knife at Darragh.

Suddenly, he lunged at Lara, as if to grab her and pull her to him. In the split second of distraction, before he realized it was feint, the man reversed the direction of his arm and hit Darragh backhanded in the temple with the hilt of his dagger. The pain was blinding,

"Nae!" he roared, his dirk slipping from his fingers as he clutched his head. But his cry was cut short as his legs buckled beneath him, and he crumpled to the cold, cave floor. As darkness threatened to consume him, Darragh fought desperately to maintain consciousness.

But the darkness descended anyway.

* * *

Beneath the weight of her fear and desperation, Lara’s heart roared like thunder in her ears. As she looked down at Darragh's fallen form, his eyes clouded and unseeing, she knew their fate now rested in her trembling hands. The lone attacker closed in, his face twisted with leering menace, and determination. Lara steeled herself for the battle that loomed before her.

"Ye willnae take me," she spat, her voice fierce despite the quiver that betrayed her terror. "Nae while I still draw breath."

"Ha! A feisty one!" the man said, his laughter slicing through her resolve. But Lara refused to be cowed; she would defend Darragh and herself, if need be, even if her skill in combat paled in comparison to his own.

As the man lunged toward her, his weapon raised high, Lara's instincts took over, and she dodged his blow with surprising agility. Her heart pounded furiously as she parried another strike, her movements fueled by the primal need to survive. But as strong as her spirit was, her body was beginning to falter, each evasive maneuver leaving her more breathless than the last, and her muscles were screaming in protest.

"God, grant me strength," she whispered, her gaze flitting to Darragh briefly, his once-powerful frame now weak and vulnerable. The sight of him in such a state only served to sharpen her resolve, and she fought on, ignoring the pain that wracked her body with every clash of steel.

"Ye cannae win, lass," the man snarled, his breath hot and foul as he closed in on her. "Surrender now and save yerself. I may yet spare yer man’s life."

"Never!" Lara hissed, her eyes blazing with defiance. But even as she spoke, she could feel the tide turning against her. She was weakening, and he knew it. Each time she darted to avoid his thrusting blows her energy was being drained. Each strike she made cost more. The long incarceration had depleted her strength.

And the man just kept closing in, as if trying to tire her.

Lara braced herself for the blow that would end it all.