Beloved in His Eyes (Angel's Assassin #2)(43)

Suddenly, a group of Hungars skirted the battling Acquitaine soldiers, coming around the side, and headed for the castle at a run.

Gawyn looked back at his men. “Don’t avoid the battle. Deflect, sidestep and attack.”

The men nodded and clutched their weapons in anticipation.

“Don’t let them in,” Gawyn commanded. “We must hold the city.”

As the Hungars charged across the drawbridge, their stomping, heavy feet sounded like thunder on the wooden planks of the bridge.

Gawyn clutched the pommel of his sword in two hands. He was going to be able to exact revenge for Adam and for Justina. He clenched his teeth and stepped forward to greet the first Hungar with a swing of his sword. The blade connected a glancing blow to the attacking Hungar’s side, but Gawyn had to quickly move to the side as the Hungar’s hammer slammed down to the earth.

Gawyn thrust his weapon forward, slicing into the Hungar’s side. The Hungar staggered.

Gawyn whirled just in time to avoid another Hungar’s swing. The attacker’s blade crossed the air where he had just been standing.

Gawyn shoved the fatally wounded hammer-wielding Hungar forward so he knocked into the Hungar with the sword. But the Hungar with the sword shoved his dying friend aside and came after Gawyn again, swinging.

Gawyn blocked the blow and it jarred his entire arm. He spun to the side and struck, slicing at the Hungar. Instead of piercing the barbarian, his sword bounced off harmlessly. Armor! He was wearing armor beneath his animal pelts.

The Hungar spun, bringing his blade around. Gawyn barely had a moment to draw back and the tip of the Hungar’s blade pinged off Gawyn’s chest plate armor. He backed away and the Hungar drove forward, swinging his sword down again and again.

Gawyn stepped out of the way and blocked the strikes. Each block felt as though a wall of bricks had fallen on his arm. He was tiring. Every time he tried to put distance between them, the Hungar pursued him, refusing to allow Gawyn a moment to recover or to think.

And then a blow landed against his sword with enough strength that Gawyn fell backward, his sword spinning away to the side.

The Hungar approached slowly, a grin on his face.

Gawyn looked around. His weapon lay in the dirt an arm’s length to his right. Behind the Hungar, four of the Acquitaine men were battling one last Hungar.

The Hungar with the sword stood over Gawyn, lifting his sword high in the air for the finishing blow. Like a bear, Gawyn’s mind repeated. His middle and legs were wide open. Gawyn acted instinctively. He shoved his booted foot hard into the Hungar’s right knee.

As the Hungar howled in pain, his knee buckled. The tip of the sword continued to drop, but the angle had changed to Gawyn’s left. He rolled out of the way, grabbed his sword, and thrust his blade up beneath the chest plate.

Stunned, the bear of a man stood still for a moment. He looked down at his wound and swayed.

Gawyn climbed to his feet, pulling his sword free.

The Hungar winced and jerked before he toppled to the side like a felled tree.

Breathing hard, Gawyn looked at his men. The Hungar’s were dead, lying on the ground around them. Grimes was holding his side as another knight supported him with an arm around his shoulders. Gawyn moved to Grimes.

Grimes nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“Get him to the physician,” Gawyn ordered. He turned to look out at the battle in the field. Only a few fights remained. Many Hungars lay dead across the wide field. Amidst the corpses were scattered soldiers from Acquitaine. To the left side of the field, a large group of Hungars stood, surrounded by mounted knights.

Gawyn also saw another army mixed with the Acquitaine men.

Through the carnage and the destruction, Gawyn sought out his brother.

Damien stood in the middle of the battle, clutching his sword, standing over a dead Hungar. He glanced around until he locked eyes with Gawyn.

It was over.

Gawyn took a deep breath and nodded his head once.

It was over.

Damien returned his acknowledgement.

The city was safe. Gawyn had kept the city safe from the Hungars.



Anxiety filled Justina. She paced her chambers, waiting for Gawyn to come back. She moved to the window but could not see the fight she knew was taking place. She pounded the ledge in frustration and moved toward the door. She came up short and groaned softly. She had given Gawyn her word she would wait here for him. She couldn’t help this horrible sense of dread that rose inside of her when he wasn’t there.

She knew it was irrational, but after Adam’s death, she felt…vulnerable and lonely. She hated it. She hated feeling that way. It wasn’t who she was, who she wanted to be.

Suddenly, the door opened. Gawyn stood in the doorway, breathing heavily as if he had run the entire way.

Just the sight of him sent relief coursing through her. She almost trembled with it.

His gaze moved over her. “Going somewhere?”

She threw herself into his arms.

He caught her and held her against him.

His embrace was warm and comforting and strong. She sank into him, his rich male scent, his reassuring touch. He was all she could ever want. He had told her that he loved her. And she realized she loved him, also. Desperately.

He kissed the top of her head, his hand stroking her back. “It’s over,” he whispered.

She pulled back to look into his brown eyes.