“I came all this way to get ye. To rescue ye from the likes of that brute and take ye home, where ye belong, withme, as God intended.”
His voice was less angry now. Instead, it had taken on a whiny, petulant note, as if he was begging her to see reason. As if anything he was saying was actually reasonable.
“And this is how ye thank me?” Eric bent, and a moment later, searing pain shot through her scalp as he fisted his hand in her hair and tried to tug her to her feet. “Get up.”
She struggled against him, trying her best to wrench her hair free from his grasp, but it was to no avail.
He pulled her up, a grunt escaping him as he did so. Once Marissa was standing, the pain in her head eased just as she felt the pain in her arm.
She glanced down at it, quickly taking in the fact that his hand was now clamped around her bicep. His fingers were gripping her so tightly that she could see the indents they were makingin her skin. Could feel the blood pooling beneath them as she started to bruise.
“Let me go!” she yelled, her voice breaking with the strain.
Her head throbbed, her vision going slightly blurry at the effort. Her stomach churned violently, and she fought to remain in control.
Dinnae throw up. Ye cannae vomit. Nae now. Ye have to keep yer wits about ye if ye want to get out of this. If ye want to help save Arthur.
Throwing her body weight back, she tried once again to break Eric’s grip on her. But it seemed he had learned from his mistake.
“Careful, lassie,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Otherwise, I may have to knock ye out. I would have nay problem throwin’ ye over me shoulder and carryin’ ye the rest of the way.”
“Then do it,” she snapped, never once letting up on fighting against his hold as she fought to retain control over her churning stomach. “Knock me out. Show me how much of a coward ye are. After everything ye said on the beach about nae wantin’ to hurt me. And now look at ye.”
“Ye hurt me first,” he gritted out. “Dinnae forget that. Or did me nose just break itself?”
“I should have broken more than yer nose,” Marissa hissed. “And I will break every single bone in yer body if ye give me the chance to.”
Apparently, her words had struck a nerve. She watched as Eric’s face flushed with anger. He stopped in his tracks, yanking her forward so that her face was mere inches from his.
Up this close, she could see that he wasn’t as handsome as she’d once thought. His teeth had a yellow tinge, and his breath reeked of something sour. His stench did little to quell her rioting belly.
“Listen to me,” Eric hissed, his fingers biting into her skin as he gripped her tighter.
Something trickled down her bicep, and her eyes flicked down. Eric was gripping her so hard that his fingernails had broken her skin, allowing blood to drip from it.
“I willnae listen to anythin’ ye have to say,” Marissa answered, her fury rising to drown out everything else. “I dinnae want to marry ye,” she spat, unleashing every bit of venom she could muscle in the words she hurled at him. “I havenae wanted to marry ye since the very first day ye followed me from the market. Ye think that it was Arthur who made me nae want to marry ye, but ye’re wrong.”
“Lies,” Eric growled, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “If it wasnae for him, ye would have been me wife. Ye wouldnae have had yer mind filled with these fanciful notions. Ye would have?—”
“He was a lie!” she yelled as loud as she could, despite how close they were. “I thought the laird I was writin’ to all those years ago didnae exist. I made him up just so ye would leave me alone. But ye’re too snivelin’, too pathetic to see when a woman doesnae want ye.”
Eric glared at her, his chest heaving as he panted in anger.
“He has made ye go barmy,” he said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. “Look at the way he has yer mind all jumbled up. A lass would never choose the likes of him over me. Nae when I could offer ye?—”
He did not get to finish his sentence. Like a man crazed, Arthur came out from behind the nearest tree, launching himself at Eric with a mighty roar.
Arthur crashed into him with the force of a bull, sending him catapulting through the air. But what he seemed to not have accounted for was Eric’s grip on Marissa. A grip that did not loosen as Arthur and Eric went sprawling to the ground, pulling her along with them.
She hit the ground again, harder than she had before. And as the earth rose up to meet her, she saw it a split second too late—the root jutting out beneath a thick patch of foliage.
Her head hit it with a sharp, loud crack. And then, everything around her went black.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Unhand me wife,” Arthur roared as he and Eric tumbled toward the ground.
His entire body was sore, but he did not care. There would be time for him to deal with the pain later. After he killed the man who had threatened the woman he loved.
