The Saint (Highland Guard #5)(100)

He yelped in surprised pain as the blade cut through the back of his thigh. The king took advantage of his surprise and plunged the heavy blade of his sword right through his belly.

The other man roared in fury. He came at the king with a vengeance, making Helen realize that the two men had been toying with them, dragging out the battle. No longer. This man intended to kill.

The attacker forced Bruce back to the river. Helen shouted a warning, but it was too late. The king stumbled on a rock and fell backward. Helen lurched forward with a cry as he landed with a thud. He wasn’t moving.

The warrior lifted his sword with both hands high above his head.

“No!” she shouted. “Don’t!”

She raced forward, barreling into him with all her strength. But it wasn’t enough. It was as if she’d run headlong into a stone wall; he barely moved.

He turned his head in her direction. “You’ll get your turn—”

He stopped, his attention caught by something behind her.

She turned instinctively, recognizing him even before the sound of his battle cry roared in her ears. “Airson an Leòmhann!” For the lion.

Magnus! She nearly wept with relief. And she might have, if the king weren’t in need of her.

She scrambled to his side, trying to revive him while keeping one eye on the battle taking place not a few feet away.

If it weren’t Magnus fighting, and if her heart weren’t lodged in her throat, she might be impressed. As skilled and invincible as the attackers had seemed to her, it was clear Magnus was even more so. But she was too worried about him to notice how fast he moved. How powerfully his sword crashed into the other. How his broad chest and powerful arms seemed built to wield the steel.

She would admire him later. Right now she just wanted it to end.

He granted her wish. One powerful blow brought the man to his knees. She turned her head, not needing to see the one that would bring his death.

She closed her eyes, fighting the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. But when she opened them again, Magnus was standing before her.

Their eyes met.

Her heart lurched.

There was no holding back this emotion.

When he opened his arms, she ran into them.

Magnus held her as if he would never let her go. When he thought of what he’d seen, how close he’d come to losing her again, he doubted he’d be able to ever again.

He cupped her chin, turned her face to his, and with one long look that spoke of the truth in his heart, he kissed her. The soft sweetness of her mouth made his heart clench. God, he loved her. He could no longer fight it.

He swept his tongue against hers, crushing her against him, and for one blistering moment gave in to the fierce emotion ripping through him and tearing him to shreds.

She kissed him back, every bit as passionately. Every bit as desperately.

But a moan brought him back to reality. A moan not from Helen, but from the king.

Reluctantly, he released her. Their eyes held for one long heartbeat. In that one look, they said everything that mattered. Tears of happiness welled in her eyes. And God, no matter how wrong, he felt it, too.

Another moan, however, dropped her to her knees at the king’s side. “Careful,” she said softly as Bruce started to rise. “You hit your head when you fell.”

The king groaned. “Again? What happened …?”

He turned, for the first time noticing Magnus. “Saint, took you long enough to find us.”

“Saint?” Helen looked at him in surprise. “You?”

Magnus bit back a smile, helping the king to his feet. He’d explain later. “I apologize for the delay, Sire. Someone did a good job of leading me on a false trail.”

The king grinned and turned to Helen. “It seems your plan worked. That was quick thinking on your part, my lady. As was the knife in the leg.”

She blushed under the praise.

Magnus had lost a few years of his life when he’d seen her plunge the blade into the warrior. But he wanted to know all of it. “What happened?”

The king quickly explained how they’d been forced to flee deeper into the mountains, how his injury had weakened him, and how Helen had set the false path, and then led them down the hill to hide in the rocks.

When he finished his tale, it wasn’t only the king who was impressed. He’d always thought of Helen as fragile—something to be cherished and protected. But she was tougher than he realized. And had far more grit and determination than he’d given her credit for. “How did you navigate the hill in the darkness?”

When Helen appeared confused, he gestured to the hill behind him. She blanched when she saw what she had done. Even though they hadn’t descended from the summit as he had, it was a treacherous “path” all the same.

“It didn’t seem that steep in the darkness. We walked slowly.”

Magnus held her gaze. He tried not to let himself think of what could have happened, but it didn’t work. He was tempted to take her in his arms again, but that would have to wait.

“We need to get back to the others. There might be more of them around. Can you walk, Sire?”

Despite his pale, blood-streaked face, Bruce looked affronted. “Of course I can walk.” He straightened, and in the process swayed. He would have fallen had Magnus not caught him. “Ah hell.”