Page 6 of Her Highland Destiny

The stone.

Cassandra charged into the thigh deep water. Its chill hit her like a punch, but she pressed onward, dragging her heavy skirts behind her. Her legs burned with the effort, yet still she moved too slowly. The man roared with each step, for surely his chain mail dragged him back as much as her skirts did her. Together they raced with torturous slowness.

Her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. This was her destiny. She could not fail.

The rock beneath her foot shifted and slipped out from under her, sending her sprawling face first into the water. As she fell, the man lunged and thrust his hand into the water where the gem sparkled.

She floundered in the pool in an attempt to find purchase on the slick ground beneath her. Finally her feet caught and she launched herself to standing once more. He might have claimed the stone, but she would not fail.

Fergus groped blindly in the water, skimming over the rocky floor in an attempt to claim the gem. Finally he caught at a chain and the stone pulled safely into the cradle of his palm. Energy seared through him. Hot. Bright. Powerful.

Too powerful.

His bones shuddered and his skin burned. Pain seared through his gut and spiraled outward as though the force of it intended to tear him apart. Everything in him screamed for him to let go. But he did not. He had too much to lose to fail now.

Nay, he clasped his other hand over his fist, securing the stone lest it wrench free.

His blood heated in his veins, igniting with raw strength.

She was worried about him.

The thought carried in on the overwhelming surge and settled him back into the quiet path of pools trickling down the mountainside. He opened his eyes to find the woman standing a pace away from him, the determination on her face softened by the glow of concern in her eyes.

What had once been a lightly pulsing sense of awareness had taken on a more poignant quality. He could not only assume her thoughts, he could practically hear them.

She thought the stone was hers, and intended to get it back.

Nay, he could actually hear them.

She meant to get it back by any means necessary.

Fergus removed one hand from the stone and pulled free his sword. It hissed menacingly from the scabbard. It was meant to intimidate, but she did not back down.

His chest tightened. He did not wish to battle this young woman. Her body was slender within her cote, her arms impossibly skinny in the tapered sleeves, like sticks he might snap. And yet defiance shone in her pale blue eyes and her sharp chin set in a stubborn glower.

She would not go down without a fight.

Damn it, he didn’t want her to go down at all.

“I dinna want to fight ye, lass.” He stepped back and slipped the stone’s simple gold chain around his neck. The heat of it warmed through his chain mail, the padded shirt beneath, the linen under that and to the skin of his chest.

Instead of answering, her energy arced out toward him in preparation to attempt a hit. He stepped to the side, and her energy shifted to follow him. The move was immediate and without hesitation. Too fast.

Never had an opponent moved so quickly before. This baffled him and cost him a fraction of a second before he could think to move again.

Her pole arm slammed into his chest hard enough to tear the breath from his lungs. He gasped for a drag of cool air and his chest ached with the effort.

What the hell? How did that scrap of a lass get a hit like that on a man his size?

The lines of her energy drew back again and this time he treated her preparation with more consideration. He lifted his sword to block the blow as the pole arm came down on him.

How did she move so bloody fast?

Her heel slammed into the back of his knees, catching him off guard. The hit rocked his balance and sent him careening backward into the pool. She was on him, her arms coiled around his, her legs entwined with his, a viper of death intent on drowning him. Her fingers patted over his chest, seeking the stone.

The stone. The stone. The stone.

Her destiny.