Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends #1)(101)

Sunshine’s wings vanished. Stewart growled, glaring at me as I stood before him once again. “Tell me what you want, woman.”

“Hand over Iain.”

Stewart chuckled. “I’ll do no such thing.”

Anger erupted uncontrolled from the depths of my soul. My arm shot out. Stuttered, shadowy images followed in the wake of my punch. A hard fist connected to sternum, and the impact of a speeding car slamming against a brick wall threw the behemoth Highlander ten feet backward, crashing loudly into the far table.

Niiice.

“Thank you,” Sunshine silently replied.

Toppled candles ignited the backside of the tent in hungry flames. My escort posse barged in. I spun around in time to see Sunshine materialize, knock both arms back, and plant iron fists into each man’s face. Before they dropped to the ground, Sunshine vanished.

Stewart moaned, dragging himself up. I walked over to him, and he stared at me in wide-eyed bewilderment.

“Iain. Now.”

Smoke rapidly filled the space. Stewart coughed as he glared and stepped beyond me. I followed him out of the tent.

An entire clan of enemy warriors faced me when I stepped into daylight. Tension crackled into the air, but not one man flinched. They obeyed Stewart. And at the moment, Stewart obeyed me.

Two rows inside the outer perimeter of tents stood a tent with a man posted on every corner. Stewart went to the entrance and pulled the flap open, turning toward me. He leveled a hard stare at me, chest heaving, his irritation no secret.

Robert had prepared me as best he could. The knowledge of what to expect helped to a degree. I steeled myself, focusing on the mission: save him.

I stepped inside.

The tent was barren. It smelled horrific; blood, urine, and feces created such a stench, I had to breathe through my mouth instead of my nose, unable to do so any other way. Trampled patches of grass were dark with stains.

In the center of the makeshift prison, a wooden post had been sunk into the ground. Manacles bolted into the top of the square pillar held the wrists of a crumpled, naked form.

My breath caught. Iain lay mercifully unconscious face down in the dirt. Blood matted his hair onto his shoulders. Multicolored, dark bruises covered nearly every inch of visible skin. The backs of his thighs had been flayed. The bottoms of his feet . . . burned.

I swallowed hard, slowly walking over to him, unable to process the methods of torture those heathens inflicted on my poor, broken man. With gentleness born of fear, not wanting to inflict any further pain, I knelt beside him, resting trembling fingers over his back. I sighed in relief. The skin was warm. His chest rose in shallow, uneven breaths, but it rose. Robert had been right. Alive . . . barely.

A growl ripped from my chest as I spun around. Stewart had disappeared, likely planning our demise. I didn’t give a f*ck.

“Skorpius. Show yourself.”

The angel appeared, and he looked more pissed than I, if that were even possible.

“Free him. Get him home.”

Sunshine flashed to Iain. The manacles holding his wrists popped open. The angel caught Iain’s arms before they fell, and he scooped up the injured body with care.

We walked out of the tent facing Stewart and his men. Every mouth fell open.

I glanced over my shoulder. Yeah, they didn’t see Iain floating in the air. They saw a dark, menacing creature with black wings opened to their full span and eyes that swirled iridescently.

The sea of men parted, uncertain of what to make of me or Sunshine. Quietly, he said, “Isobel. I can only take one of you back at a time.”

I turned toward them, kissing the tips of my fingers, placing them on Iain’s cracked lips . . . his warm lips.

I inhaled a deep breath. “Take him, Skorpius. Only him. Make him safe. Keep him alive.”

“But—” he started to protest.

I cut him off. “Take him. Stewart won’t harm me. He needs me. By the time I leave, he’ll be too busy dying to care.”

Sunshine nodded, and they vanished.

I only made it a few steps beyond Stewart’s crowd of angel-shocked men, before Robert and our clan charged down from the forest.

Robert approached with a pained expression on his face. “Iain . . . ?”

“Is alive. Our friend took him back to the castle.”

The Brodie clan descended with shouts of fury against those that dared challenge us . . . on an enemy that had committed crimes of war against a defenseless man.

Robert growled low. “M’Lady, doona worry. I will exact revenge.”

I glanced back as swords clashed. The glorious sight of an enemy falling at the hands of an outraged victim-turned-vengeance-dealer made me smile as flames devoured their encampment.

“Aye, Robert. Make them suffer. Kill them slowly. Destroy them all.”





CHAPTER Thirty-five





I rode Solus hard. The decision to send Iain to safety was never second-guessed, but the long minutes it took to reach the castle felt like unmoving hands on a stalled clock. We thundered over the drawbridge just as it settled into place. We charged up the rise, straight to the keep. Before she fully stopped, I slid off and ran into an already-open front door.

It seemed the entire clan milled about in the great hall. All their attention turned to me. Without a word, the sea of people parted, and I ran across the room and down the corridor. The strong power signature radiating from Sunshine told me exactly where they were.