by Beth Mikell
He would not leave her.
Darrius cut a narrowed glance at his half-brother. “Take Dugan and go to HieLach to get the others. Leave Thomas here. He and I will await Sir Douglas and meet you in the woods of Chevington Manor. Now go.”
Once Colin left, Nyle gently flipped back the coverlet and prepared to turn the baby around, Brenna’s scream ripped through the air, filling Blackstone Castle with her tortured wail.
Darrius’s heart exploded at her pain as she pressed deep into him.
*.*.*.*
“One more push, my lady,” Nyle said in an encouraging tone.
Drenched in sweat, Brenna’s weary body was all but exhausted from birthing her child. As Darrius gripped her shoulders, she bore down, screaming. She gave one final push, and the baby expelled from her body. Fatigued, she sagged into the strong, muscular arms of her husband.
“Thank God, little dove,” he said murmured, praising softly into her ear. “You did wonderful. I am so proud of you.”
“‘It is a girl,” Nyle announced gently, taking a few minutes with the new babe. Then, he wrapped the newborn girl in a cloth, and then handing her to Maude’s waiting arms.
Brenna gave a small laugh as Maude neared, laying her newborn daughter in her arms. She eyed her little baby, turning to look up at Darrius. “She is beautiful,” she whispered.
“Just like her mother, little dove.” He leaned forward and kissed Brenna on the cheek, squeezing her closer. He nuzzled her, feathering small kisses over her skin.
A knock at the door interrupted the happy moment and Maude answered it, finding Ryrie on the threshold. Worried concern slanted her expression. “Darrius? Sir Douglas has arrived,” she said softly.
Brenna looked up at her husband, knowing he had to leave. “Go, my love. Everything will be fine now,” she said, trying to reassure him, but his expression was anything but assured.
“Brenna…” he began.
“You have to, Darrius. You and I know that. No one will be safe until the Imperial Arm finishes it. Go, my love. We will be waiting for you,” Brenna told him, settling their new child against her.
He shifted, easing her back against the pillows and moved to sit facing her on the bed. “How was I blessed with such a wife? God only knows,” he said, reaching up to caress her cheek, staring deeply into her eyes. “I will be back as soon as I can. Just rest and...” he trailed off, leaning forward to brush his lips across hers and trailed his fingertip down the cheek of his new child.
Brenna pulled back slightly, looking up into his deep, blue eyes. “I promise, warrior. Be safe and hurry back to us—we need you.”
He half-smiled and shook his head. “You make it impossible for me to leave, my lady wife.” He leaned down to kiss her lips again, and then standing. He gave her a searing look before turning to Nyle.
“Thank you for saving them,” he said, holding out his hand to the younger man.
Nyle took his cousin’s hand and smiled warmly. “I am just thankful everything turned out well, my lord.”
Darrius nodded. “Look after them, Nyle. I leave them in your care.” He walked to the door and turned to look back at Brenna and he smiled, then left.
She looked down at her new little baby. Dark hair covered her head and she looked peaceful and angelic. She was perfection from her soft rosebud mouth to her delicate fingertips.
But something felt strange inside her. A strong pain hit her body, she gasped, and Ryrie came to her side.
“My lady?” Nyle asked, frowning.
Another pain hit and Brenna cried out.
“What is it, Nyle?” Ryrie demanded anxiously, reaching for Brenna’s hand. “Maude, come take the child,” she said, taking charge of the situation.
The sharp pain increased, slicing Brenna’s abdomen, and Maude took the new infant from her arms as the midwife flipped back the coverlet to investigate.
“There is another child,” midwife said matter of fact.
“Dear God,” Nyle whispered. “Let me go get Darrius!” He turned to leave.
“Nay!” Brenna shouted, holding her stomach. “Do not go. Stay with me and just… help me!” She panted through the pain, its strength increasing tenfold. The baby was ready to come as she squeezed Ryrie’s hand.
He turned to look at his lady, and he was torn between wanting to go get Darrius, yet listen to Brenna. “My lady, if anything happens to you… Darrius will…” he trailed off, not finishing his sentence. He glanced over at Maude and Ryrie, shaking his head.
“Just help me,” Brenna begged, trying to withhold a scream for fear that Darrius would hear and return. “Everything will be fine. Help me deliver my child! Please!” Her brow beaded with sweat, holding her stomach.
“Nyle—move it!” Ryrie demanded tersely.
With determined strides, he went back over to the bed, resuming his position to receive the new child. “It is time, my lady. Push!”
Though Brenna’s strength was all but depleted, the world welcomed another child at Blackstone Castle—another set of twins were born inside the great walls. Before she knew the outcome of her baby, she blacked out.
Chapter 16
HieLach
Two lovers stood facing one another, each dressed in full armor. Adara held her sword pointed at Rowan, an intriguing smile touched her lips as she gazed at him. They were not battling in hatred or demise, but for the sheer amusement offered up in the name of sport. Rowan asked her to show her skill to him. He loved watching her move. She had fascinated him since the first day he saw her. Her mysterious and graceful mannerisms were imbedded deep in his soul until he did not know where he ended or she began.
He eyed his sweet, red haired cat, contemplating her next move, but her expression was too remote to gauge. He circled around her with a smile on his lips, swallowing hard from fast desire.
“So, kitten, do you concede to me?” he asked huskily, holding his sword with ease.
She chuckled. “Not a chance,” she said, swinging her sword at him, and he deflected the blow without hesitation. But she turned fast, lunging again.
He caught her around the waist, hauling her against his chest, and his lips caressed her ear. She moaned.
“Such a naughty kitty,” he whispered, his tongue snaking out and tracing her earlobe.
She pushed out of his arms, moving around him and pressed her body up against his back. Her hand snaked around, and she brazenly cupped his shaft. He hissed.
“Shall I play dirty?” She stroked him hard.
He spun fast, grabbing her, and dragged her up against his body until their armors smacked together with a crunch. His breath washed over her face, heaving hard. “Any dirtier, kitten and the entire keep will see a whole lot more than of us on the ground. So, if you do not mind, I would like to keep your reputation intact,” he whispered.
She smiled, tilting her head to the side and kissed him hard before spinning out of his grasp. He reached for her, but missed and she raised her sword again. “Will you be my guardian? My protector?”
He returned her smile, his eyes smoldering. His heart palpitated hard against his ribs. “Kitten, I will be more than that.” He charged her with purpose, throwing his sword down so it impaled the earth.
Startled, she squealed, backing up and dropping her sword. She sprinted away. He growled, running fast. The deep rumble of his laughter wafted on the air, but still she ran hard. She was beauty in motion. From the graceful way she ran to how her eyes twinkled when she peered over her shoulder. Beautiful. But she was almost caught.
His hand snaked out, and she stumbled in surprise. He was quick to react, turning midair, falling down on the ground with her crashing into his chest. He grunted.
She would have moved, but his arms prevented her. “Stay, kitten,” he said, staring up into her obsidian eyes and flushed pink cheeks.
“You are injured—” she began, pushing her braid off to the side.
His arms tightened around her. “Not a chance. Now… kiss me.�
�
An elegant eyebrow lifted at his command, yet her eyes warmed and her lips parted. She brushed her mouth across his, and he closed his eyes. She sought his mouth eagerly, and his tongue gave chase. God, if only they were anywhere but outside. She wiggled closer, whimpering in her throat.
They were completely lost, barely registering a strange sound coming from behind them. Rowan broke free and found Simon with a stupid smile upon his face.
“Simon?” he said raggedly.
“Aye, sorry to… um… interrupt, but Colin is here and he would like to speak to you and Lady Adara. That is… if you can pry yourselves apart and come up for air,” the younger knight said with a cheeky wink.
“Wait until I get ahold of yer neck,” Rowan roared. “I will pull yer head off with my bare hands!” He sat up, pulling Adara up with him.
Simon grinned wider and he shrugged. “This is nothing new to me, I assure you,” he said, walking away whistling.
Rowan stood to his feet, throwing Simon a look of irritation before helping Adara stand. “Sorry, kitten. I wanted to spare you…” he said, trailing off, grinding his teeth together.
She smiled. “Spare me what? Humiliation?” She reached up to caress his face. “I am not ashamed.”
He looked away from the strength of her gaze, running a hand through his long hair. “No, ‘tis not that exactly,” he said, meeting her eyes. “Adara, you are the first woman I do not want to share with the world. I do not want anyone to witness yer untamed beauty. Does that make sense, kitten?” God knew, he did not know how to share his feelings. He never had before.
She reached down, linking her hand through his. “I understand,” she said, kissing his hand. “Shall we?”
They walked together, hand in hand to the keep, but dropped their clasp as they entered the great hall, not wanting to cause a stir among the Elite before they were ready to announce their relationship. The greetings were fleeting upon the news that Colin and Dugan gave them regarding the Gray Legion. Confirmation of Sir Robert’s involvement was not a surprise, but an annoyance they would need to deal with soon. Plus, the dire circumstances of Brenna’s child appearing early with threat to her life and unborn child topped off the bad news.
*.*.*.*
Adara looked away from the intensity of Rowan’s gaze, her mind racing over each word Colin had spoken. Her uncle. The very one that tried to marry her to his son Erik was the traitor. Sir Robert was responsible for the dark cloud hanging over HieLach—for the abuse of so many innocent lives. While she was not surprised, anger filled her heart at the torture and pain so many had endured all for the sake of what? Greed? Selfish ambition? And poor Decimus, too?
“May I ask, what are your orders from Lord Darrius?” Adara addressed Colin, pinning him with a hard stare.
The blond knight hesitated for a moment, his blue gaze sliding toward Rowan before answering. “I am here to take the Elite to Chevington Manor and await my lord’s arrival. We will then finish it.”
She raised her chin, frowning. “You are outnumbered. I do not doubt the skills of the Elite, but how can a handful of knights think of attacking? For certain, the Gray Legion has amassed quite an army,” she stated, her mind working quickly over the facts.
Dugan stepped forward and cleared his throat. “We have that covered, my lady. You may recall from the tournament, Sir Douglas. He has been installed at one of King Henry’s border keeps and he is on the way with reinforcements.”
Adara leaned over to Cylah and whispered in her ear, and then she faced her guests. “We are going with you.”
Rowan’s expression darkened, meeting her gaze. “I need to speak with you, my lady—privately.” He gave a cursory glance to his fellow Elite. “Colin, Dugan, would everyone be so kind to leave and ready our departure?” “
Her gaze glittered. “I do not see the need to discuss this.”
He took several steps toward her, placing his hands on hips. “No need? I insist, my lady.” Hard sarcasm rolled through his lips.
Neither bothered to look around to see if anyone left the hall.
“I am going, Rowan,” she said, turning to walk away, yet he grasped her arm, his grip digging into her upper arm.
“You most certainly are not going.” He shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “Whatever is going through that beautiful mind of yers, you can just forget it! ‘Tis too dangerous. A battle is no place for a woman!”
She yanked her arm free, summoning a dark glower. “I was not seeking your permission. My uncle has crossed the line. I have lived day and night with fear, hopelessness, abuse, and tyranny because of his unscrupulous greed. I will be damned if I am going sit back and wait for your return—to save the day,” she said vehemently.
He snorted. “Would Decimus agree that he is a priority over yer safety? ‘Tis not a question of the pain you or yer people have suffered, Adara, it is madness for you to assume you can go there in the middle of what will assuredly be chaos! Damn it! I will not allow it!” Rowan said heartily.
Her jaw clenched tight before she said, “Again, I was not seeking your approval. You have no claims upon my person, as of yet. I have to consider HieLach and Decimus before myself,” Adara said, turning away to march up to her bedchamber to ready herself and he followed her.
He slammed the chamber door. “Excuse me, my lady, what the hell were the past few days? Yer own type of sensual venture?”
She faced him, her expression as remote as her feelings—closed off. “I have a responsibility as a guardian of my people, and I told you once that I would do everything in my power to help them. I am not a random woman, Rowan. I have been trained to be a warrior. I can take care of myself. I cannot think of my own feelings right now to satisfy yours.”
“Satisfy me? Yer stubbornness would not fall into that category, my lady!” Rowan bit out cruelly.
Her eyes hardened at his thoughtless words and callous treatment. “You can say whatever you like, but I am going.”
Running a hand through his long dark hair, he reached jerked her into his arms, uncaring how she pushed against him. “Adara. I am sorry.” He exhaled hard. “You satisfy the hell out of me and a whole damn more! God, but I love you, lass! Do you not understand my feeling? How can I allow the woman that I love—the woman I have waited my whole life for—to just walk into a brewing storm without a fight?” he asked hotly, shaking her with each emphasis of his words, his Scots brogue heavy. “What if something happens to you? Do I die a slow death at yer demise, or do I fall upon my own sword to follow you quickly? Heaven knows I will never be able to live without you, so please tell me what I will do?”
Tears fell down her cheeks as she stared up into his face. Being told he loved her was unexpected. She shook her head. “How dare you tell me now—this way? Do you think you will change my mind with your admission?”
He grunted “I admit I had hoped it would change yer mind. At this point, I will do anything to prevent you from putting yerself in harm’s way. Anything to keep yer stubborn hide from getting yerself killed!”
She pushed away from him. “Please leave my bedchamber. I need to finish readying myself,” she said, turning away from him, wiping her tears from her face.
*.*.*.*
Rowan stared at her back, fear running hot through him. Fury, uncontrolled and pivoting on madness, raced through his heart. Never in his life had he loved anyone outside of close family. He actually admitted to a woman how much he loved her, but he happened to love the most obstinate woman ever.
God’s teeth!
Without another word, he left—slamming of the door. He could not reconcile his heart—or his pain.
Chapter 17
Twilight was falling over the countryside as the seven riders from HieLach neared Chevington Manor. They reigned in their warhorses, the manor some distance away. The darkness would provide necessary cover, yet the unknown number of Gray Legion knights lurking in the woods could pose a threat.
“We need to see if Darrius ha
s arrived,” Colin said, looking over at Dugan and Rowan, receiving a nod. “Angus and I will circle around and meet you back here.” He turned his horse in another direction with Angus at his flank.
Adara finally ventured a look over at Rowan, but he kept his face averted. His words of love kept traveling through her mind. Though her heart felt heavy from the argument they had before leaving, she could not relinquish her opinion about coming with them. Too many factors were at play for her not to have come. Her uncle’s deception and the possibility that Decimus could be alive prevented an apology from escaping her lips. However, she knew deep down, she was being stubborn too, but her pride kept her silent.
Tired after sitting so long on Isidore, she dismounted, grabbing her herbal pouch. She slung it over her shoulder.
“Adara.”
She took a deep breath, afraid to turn around and met his gaze, feeling a coward. While she could justify her own reasons for her decisions, she had no right to hurt the man she loved. She loved him so much that it scared her. Love was not a luxury she could afford, not since the day her father died.
Slowly, she faced him, peering straight into his light brown eyes and solemn expression. She expected to find more censure, but she only found a measure of tenderness reflected—his love evident.
“I—” Rowan began.
“I—” she started
They both smiled together, breaking the coldness of the moment.
He took her left hand in both of his, clasping it tightly. “You first, lass,” he said gruffly.
She shook her head, emotion filling her soul to the point of breaking. “I never intended to argue—” she began, but he pulled her suddenly into his arms.
He buried his face in her hair before leaning his forehead against hers. “Shh, kitten. Do not say anything. I know yer reasons, though it pains me to think of anything happening to you. I just cannot imagine losing you—not when I waited so long for you.”