by Beth Mikell
“There are five knights, Colin, Lady Brenna, and Gunther. They are holding her in the third house on the left,” she told him.
“Thank you.” Darrius stood, taking a step back from the young woman. “Your help is very much appreciated,” he told her before turning to his men. “Let’s go!”
Neda moved to her feet, reaching out to him, stilling his departure. “Wait! I have a message from Lady Brenna.”
“What is it?” He whispered, afraid to breathe.
“She said, please do not come. It is a trap.”
Darrius released the air in his lungs. “We shall save her. We can take you back to Dorling, but under the circumstances, not at the present. Find some shelter. We can take you later.”
Neda shook her head, “Do not worry for me, my lord. I will take care of myself.”
The seven men mounted their horses and rode off into the darkness.
****
The Imperial Elite advanced on the village. They paired off, seeking their targets. Within minutes sounds of raised voices and swords clashing sang through the cool air. Darrius moved stealthily through the woods, moving closer to the house Neda said Brenna was being held hostage. A sound came from his right and he whirled suddenly, his broadsword inches from his cousin’s throat.
“God’s teeth, Rowan, I almost killed your stupid hide!” Darrius gritted out. “I gave you an order to pair up with Angus,” he hissed, pulling his sword down, glaring.
Rowan shrugged. “Angus is like a rock. I have seen him best five armed knights and win. Better to cover yer stubborn hide,” he countered as Darrius grunted in response.
The Imperial Elite entered the village, securing the area, but as the innocent people saw the armed men, they ran back into their homes.
Darrius and Rowan moved together toward the house, and the Elite met up with them.
“Did you find Gunther?” Darrius asked his men.
Each knight reported no sign of him.
Without time to order a search for their escapee, Darrius moved closer to the house with his knights. They peered in the side window and found Brenna bound, sitting in a chair beside the fireplace. Colin had his sword at her throat. “Call out to Darrius!”
Her chest heaved. “I will not help you!”
Colin’s lips drew into a thin line. “Darrius? Darrius, I know you are there!” He did not appear, and he called again, “Darrius!”
“One of the first rules I taught you was: never allow your enemy to corner you.” The Imperial Arm appeared in the doorway, and Brenna breathed his name softly.
Colin grunted. “And the second was: know your enemy’s weaknesses.”
Taking one step into the house, Darrius assessed Colin, Brenna, and the sword at her throat. Fury beat a torrent of heat through him; he knew he had to gain control of the situation. She looked tired and worn out, but beautiful to him. Her bottom lip was split and swollen, but otherwise his brave little dove he ached to hold in his arms again. He only needed to save her and nurture his newfound love. A love so strong, he would die to save her.
“When did I become your enemy, Colin?” Darrius took another step forward, calculating his paces. He knew he could not strike until Colin took a step away from Brenna.
“No, it is too easy to just tell you.” Colin shook his head. “I want you to suffer first. Pay for your crime.”
“Then let Brenna go. We will settle this, just you and I,” he offered softly, taking another step.
“That is far enough!” Colin pulled his sword up against Brenna’s throat and she breathed in sharply.
“Don’t worry, little dove,” he whispered to her.
“Darrius,” she breathed.
Colin chuckled. “Touching but enough.”
Darrius turned his cool gaze on him. “Then tell me what bent your mind, faith, and fealty, Colin the Disloyal. How did I wrong you?”
The other knight snorted. “Do you remember this village? Is it familiar to you?”
“Do not play games. Speak!” He swung his sword toward Colin, forcing the other man to block his blow, thereby removing the sword from Brenna’s throat.
Colin deftly blocked the attack as the swords clashed in a ring of metal on metal. Both men held their positions, staring at one another. Darrius took two steps toward the fireplace, inches away from Brenna, forcing Colin away from her.
“Ten years ago you came through this defenseless village—did you enjoy attacking it?” Colin pulled back his sword, making another swing at Darrius.
Easily, the Imperial Arm deflected it, moving his body completely in front of Brenna. “Damn you, Colin, I am not such a man! Do not speak in riddles. Say what you mean.”
Grabbing the pouch from around his neck, Colin yanked out the torn insignia. “Does this look familiar?” He held it up for Darrius. “My sister gave it to me with your name on her lips after you raped her and left her for dead! Tell me, how does a man, an emissary of the king, do such a thing?”
“God’s teeth, Colin, it was not me. I have never forced myself on a woman or child as God is my witness!” Darrius swung his sword back, meeting Colin’s with an angry force.
The Imperial Elite appeared in the doorway, motioning for Brenna to come to them. Slowly, she stood, edging toward the door.
“Get her out of here, Rowan,” Darrius commanded, watching Brenna move quickly to the door from the corner of his eye, but still maintaining his sword against Colin.
Darrius moved his body in a twisted circle, his sword coming in contact with Colin’s, placing himself in the path of the doorway, blocking Colin, and allowing Brenna to escape at the same time.
****
Once outside, Dugan used his dagger to free Brenna’s hands. “My lady, let’s go!” He reached for her upper arm to pull her from danger.
Brenna pushed away, taking a step back, and coming up against Angus at her back. “Nay! I will not leave, Darrius.”
“My lady—” Rowan began only to be cut off by Brenna.
She lifted her chin. “I will stay and that is final,” she said icily, turning back to the doorway, watching Darrius. Her heart felt near ready to erupt, watching Colin spew his hatred. The two men were evenly matched and the betrayal too great.
****
The Imperial Arm focused, having trained Colin, he knew his skills. “I did not harm your sister.”
Colin swung his sword, lunging for Darrius but missed. “You are a wolf in sheep’s skin. No one knows your true character, but they soon will. Pull the memory of truth from your mind. Tell me what happened before I run you through, Imperial Arm,” he sneered.
Darrius recalled the moment from the past. “I was only a royal guard at the time, traveling with king. We came upon this village—already under siege. A young girl fell into my arms, tearing the insignia from my tunic with Gunther’s name on her lips,” he explained, deflecting another blow delivered by Colin. “It was Gunther, I tell you. This village is on Dorling lands. He did this. I would never do such a vile, degrading act to any woman—and by God, I never shall!”
Colin chuckled without true humor. “Aye, I am sure. Would Lady Brenna share that opinion?”
Brenna gasped and Darrius turned his attention away from Colin to look at her. The vengeful knight seized the upper hand, lunging forward, making contact with Darrius’s chainmail.
“Rowan!” Darrius roared, swinging his sword at Colin. “I told you to get her out of here!”
****
The McLeod and Dugan looked over their shoulders at Brenna, and she raised an eyebrow as if daring them to make her. Rowan let out a sigh, shaking his head before turning back to watch his lord and Colin.
****
“If I had done such a vile act as you claim,” Darrius said. “Why have I not ever done it again? Such perverse actions tend to be repeated, but not of my nature,” he explained, knocking Colin in the groin and the other man went down to the floor.
Colin rolled to the side, trying to get up, but Darrius was qu
icker, planting his booted foot on the other man’s sword hand. He pointed his weapon in his disloyal knight’s face.
“Enough!” Darrius commanded.
Dugan and Rowan hurried inside the house, hefting Colin up to his feet, while Thomas grabbed a chair. The men forced the disloyal knight to sit. Dugan used the binding he had cut from Brenna and bound Colin’s hands behind his back. Darrius faced his long time faithful knight turned rogue.
“Damn you, Colin.” He shook his head, his expression grim. “You will tell me why you did this? Why did you assume these lies of me?”
Colin gazed up at him, fury etching the lines of his face. “My sister, Phoebe, fell into my arms with your name on her lips before she died. I have waited all these years—to find the right moment to shatter your existence to hell!”
Darrius cocked his head to the side. “How did that work out for you? Seems that all it did was turn against you. Here you sit before me—bound and at my mercy.”
Brenna hustled into the room, surprising Darrius, and he caught her around the waist. He hauled her up tightly against his side.
“Tell him, Colin,” she said hotly. “Tell him what you told me earlier. If you do not, I will.”
“What is going on?” Darrius looked between Colin and Brenna. The tension was thick throughout the room.
“Tell him...” she pleaded.
Colin swallowed, meeting Darrius’s eyes. “We are brothers,” he stated. “Lord Robert was my father.”
The vibration of shock and disbelief traveled through the small house, but Darrius was the least rankled by the announcement. He took a step closer toward Colin, releasing Brenna. “Explain.”
Colin shared the history of Lord Robert and his mother, Edith, in sequential order.
Except for his cool stare at the younger man, Darrius remained silent. His jaw clenched. Raw emotion surged through him, ranging from pity and anger to seething rage without forgiveness.
Finally, he said, “What I can’t decide is: if it is your deceit or weakness that disgusts me more. You had so little faith in me, even as a brother?” Darrius shook his head, sheathing his sword. He placed his gauntlet-covered hands on either side of Colin’s shoulders. “We have worked side by side for years, training, fighting, and living—for what, pray? It goes against my nature to excuse you from this treachery. Not only did you release Gunther, but also Ian died because of your misplaced revenge. Lady Linnea was ravished by exhaustion sickness and Lady Brenna—” His lip curled with disgust, “—when I think about what could have happened to her—damn you, Colin. Brother or not, I will never forgive you for this. But, neither will I kill you. You will spend the rest of your pitiful days in regret for your crimes and suffer without penitence as no man has ever suffered.”
Darrius straightened, turning to look at Rowan. “Release him. Take him to his horse,” he said quietly, his attention on Colin. “Then you run, as if Satan was bidding for your soul nigh close to hell. If you cross one step along my path, you will taste the end of my sword unto death.”
The Imperial Elite escorted traitorous Colin out of the house, closing the door on the way out. A conclusion without a hope of repair.
Chapter 13
Darrius strode to the fireplace, shucking off his gauntlets, tossing them on the floor. He placed a hand on either side of the hearth, hanging his head. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep cleansing breath to chase his overwrought nerves under control. He wanted to kill Colin. Kill him for betrayal. Kill him for endangering lives. Kill him for the death of Ian. And most of all—kill him for placing Brenna in harm’s path. As fresh anger filled him, he controlled it, but even he had limits.
Brenna padded softly up to Darrius, and he turned swiftly, gathering her into his arms. “When I think about how close I came to losing you...” he said against her temple, trailing off. He pulled back, smoothing his hand over cheeks, wiping her tears. His thumb lightly brushed over her split lip. “God, what did they do to you?”
She shook her head. “I am fine, Darrius.”
His eyes searched her face. “Nay, you are not fine. I went through hell and back worried about you. It was the first time I had ever felt vulnerable fear until I thought my chest would burst,” he whispered, gathering her back into his arms. “Not being with you—worried what they would do to you. It was like a living nightmare without end. Truly, they did not hurt you?”
Brenna pulled back, bringing up her hands to cup his face. “I am unharmed, my love.”
Darrius released a pent up breath. “Not entirely as I see it.” He ran his hands down the length of her arms, inspecting the torn flesh at her wrists and drew her closer to the bed. “Let me see you.”
Gently, he untied her mantle and peeled off her gown, her shift, layer by layer until everything fell at their feet and pooled on the floor. He simply drank the view of her body, filling up his emptiness.
****
Brenna stood before him, naked and proud. Every curve was revealed to his hungry gaze. “Darrius,” she whispered, staring into the eyes of her warrior, a man she trusted implicitly and loved without endless fail. He had lost so much within one day, yet his peaceful demeanor coursed through her body, strengthening her pride for him.
Darrius leaned down, brushing his mouth over her lips with apologetic tenderness, chasing away the pain of the day. He drew her upon the bed, and then he undressed with unhurried movements. He stood powerfully naked.
She gasped when she saw Darrius’s bandaged shoulder. “What happened?”
“Nothing matters but you.” He knelt on the bed, taking one of her hands in his. He smoothed her skin with his lips, placing a chaste kiss on her palm. His lips trailed close to her rope burned wrists. He soothed the red flesh, his eyes never leaving her face. With exquisite ease, he lowered her hand and picked up the other hand, repeating his soft kisses over her skin, banishing the demons of hate.
“I am so sorry, little dove. I should have been there—protected you,” he said gruffly, closing his eyes.
No matter her split lip, a soft smile curved her lips. “Come to me, warrior.”
Darrius moved onto the bed and gathered Brenna close. He shuddered. “Had I lost you, God knows what hell would have devoured me.”
“But, I am safe,” she insisted.
He pulled back, staring deep into her eyes. “I have led a life of disciplined service, mastering control until void of human emotion. But, with you.” He shook his head. “I have found a rare gift of life. When you went missing, my heart fell from grace into a violent rage,” he whispered, running a hand through her hair. “Words do not come easy for me, though I appear in utter control—I have an out of control beast inside me. Only now, within your arms, have I found peace. You sustain me, Brenna. You balance me.”
Her eyes stung with tears and she cupped his face. “I know you hide yourself behind the Imperial Arm, but you are more than that. You are more than you can imagine. You are strength to be sure, but temperate and just. You are unfailing in integrity and honor—I see you, Darrius of Blackstone. I love you. I love the man without a title or service—just you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
For a stunned moment, he did not speak, and then he smiled. “Is that your subtle way for asking for my hand in marriage, little dove?”
Brenna laughed softly. “Yes, it is.”
“You will have it.” He rolled over, pulling her body to lie over his chest, smoothing a hand over her back. “But, I have one question.”
“What is it?”
His deep, blue eyes grew serious. “Will you accept my heart… and my love?”
She drew in a sharp breath. Emotional tears stung her gaze. “Yes. I accept forever.”
Darrius leaned up and kissed the uninjured side of her mouth. “I have never loved another woman but you. My sweet lady, you make me realize that I need more in my life. I cannot explain it more than this. I love you, Brenna. I love you for always, ending in never.”
“I love
you,” she whispered. “Now love my body. I need you.”
Darrius gently pushed her back onto the bed, running his hands over her skin. He leaned over to kiss her cheek, smoothing down the turn of her jaw with his lips. “Brenna.”
Her hands sank into his hair, urging him closer as he trailed his hot mouth down her throat. The soothing glide of his lips pervaded her body until she wanted to faint from pleasure.
“I can never lose you, Brenna. Never,” he rasped, cupping one breast in his hand, flicking a thumb over her nipple.
Her pupils dilated in response, loving his touch. “Darrius love me. Just love me,” she breathed, tottering in the quicksand of passion. She ached to be sucked into the sweet promise of her warrior’s temptations. His love beckoned her without restraint, without abandon.
“Whose love are you?” He lowered his mouth to the tight bud, his tongue honoring her pebbly offering.
Lightning heat streaked through her, and she arched into his mouth. The feeling settled deep within her center. She trembled. She was invigorated with the sweet force of every sensation Darrius pulled from her. She moaned softly. “Yours—Darrius of Blackstone.”
“How far will you go with me, little dove?”
“Forever and always,” Brenna said.
“Never always and never forever. It’s never enough,” he growled lowly, moving above her, settling between her thighs, his hard length grazed her.
“Darrius,” she crooned, drawing up her hands over his sinewy arms, breathing in his delicious, masculine scent. She licked her lips with anticipation. The sensual onslaught was more than she could bear.
“Brenna,” he said softly. “You are never enough.” He took her mouth, sliding deep within her heat.
Darrius’s mouth muffled her cry. They feasted on forever’s heaven… one kiss at a time… one touch… until the storm peaked. They were left with nothing but silence, wrapped in two bodies and one heart.