Page 64 of Enchantment of a Highlander

The last child had scurried through the door when the flash of a red kilt showed from the shadows near Celia.

He shoved his opponent with a force that sent the man to the ground and spared Alec a precious second to see a man charge toward Celia from behind. Her back faced her attacker, oblivious to the danger.

Alec called her name over the cries and screams, but she did not turn.

The outlaw on the ground near Alec scrambled to his feet and tore off in the opposite direction, freeing Alec to go to Celia.

His heart swelled in his chest with hammering fear. Reaching her would be impossible, but damn it, he would try.

Her attacker’s arm pulled back, his sword lifting over her back. She swept into the door without turning and slammed it closed with an audible smack.

Another sword flashed out from the shadows with lethal speed, disconnecting the outlaw’s head from his body with enough force to send it rolling.

A man stepped into the light, as tall as Alec, with dark blond hair. His green eyes tugged at Alec’s memory with their familiar glint.

Niall. The man his father once held as his prized warrior so long ago.

He glared at Alec for a moment before shoving past him and running toward an outlaw on the opposite side of the street.

A rough call sounded from deep in Niall’s throat and over a dozen men appeared from the alleys, their massive claymores brandished for battle.

They were older than Alec remembered, yet he could recall every one of their faces, every one of their names and those of their families.

Alec sucked in a deep, cleansing breath of air, breathing with relief for the first time.

These were his father’s men, the ones he’d been searching for, the ones who’d been missing.

The ones who could save him.

After months of searching, he’d found his father’s army.

Chapter Nineteen

Celia pushed her back against the door and dug into the worn wooden floor with her heels. A narrow slit of light penetrated the darkness of the cottage. Mothers cradled their children to their breasts and older children aided the younger ones whose mothers were not there. Soft cries whimpered through the small space despite the constant shushing.

Celia gritted her teeth and pressed against the door with every ounce of strength she could muster. If the man who chased her shoved hard enough, the meager barrier would splinter apart.

She tightened her grip on Alec’s dagger, borrowing the strength of a warrior.

The rattling slam from the other side did not come. Not so much as a knock. Still she did not move.

“It’s fine,” Celia whispered to the children, and cast them a reassuring smile. “We’ll be fine.”

“Help me.” A woman’s strained voice sounded from outside the cottage.

Celia squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the pleas. She could not leave the door open. She could not leave the children exposed.

“Help me, please.” The woman was sobbing now. A low, keening cry. “My baby…”

Celia opened her eyes and the room blurred despite her resolve.

“Moira,” she called to the eldest girl with bright red hair. “Go to the window and see if there is anyone outside. Mind you, stay far enough back.”

The girl nodded bravely and shoved her hair from her brow before tiptoeing toward the window, her little back stiff. Light splashed across her face and brightened the blue of her eyes. “There’s a lass on the ground.” The thin muscles along her neck tightened. “She’s bleeding verra badly.”

“Are there any men?” Celia asked through gritted teeth.

Moira shook her head and the wave of unruly hair swept into her eyes. “I dinna see any.” She turned her attention to Celia and shoved her tresses away again. “Ye’re no going to leave her there, are ye?”