Page 32 of Highland Ruse

Were he not so damn sick, he might crack a smile at it.

But it was not only Elizabeth who needed water. Leasa and Donnan echoed her pleas. As soon as Elizabeth had drunk her fill, he brought the flask to Leasa and then to Donnan, knowing he would want the lass to drink before him.

The horses whinnied in the distance, but Kaid took comfort in knowing they’d been tethered with stays long enough to reach both loch and grass.

At long last, with a body cowed beneath the knifing agony, Kaid settled on the ground near Elizabeth so he could be near enough to protect her.

He pulled the vial from the pouch at his waist. How it had not become lost in the laborious task of procuring water, he did not know, but was grateful.

His fingers shook.

This would be the last dose until they could return to Ardvreck Castle.

The last.

The words echoed ominously in his mind, reminding him again and again of the horror he would soon face without its aid.

He unstoppered the bottle and tossed the remaining contents into his mouth.

It was bitter and beautiful at all once.

His eyes fluttered closed and he waited for relief.

And it came, for a while, before he woke with such illness as he had never experienced. Agony knifed through his insides and everything whirled around him, too fast and too chaotic for him to hold on. His body shivered and clenched. Sweat blanketed his skin and did nothing but set the chill even deeper into his aching bones.

He shut out everything and kept his face pressed into the cold, wet ground, waiting for the pain to stop.

Chapter Eight

The sun was high overhead when Delilah finally woke, but she immediately clamped her eyes shut against the offending brilliance.

Her head felt as though it’d been stuffed with wads of wet wool. She swallowed and found her mouth felt much the same.

She tried to speak, but her tongue was uncooperative. An unintelligible garble rasped from her mouth.

Water.

She wanted water.

Fresh and crisp, cold and refreshingly wet.

Her saliva thickened in her mouth at the very thought.

Something pressed to her lips.

“Drink, my lady.” Leasa’s voice.

Delilah squinted to see Leasa’s head blocking out the sun, her face shadowed by the glow surrounding her.

The muscles of Delilah’s throat relaxed, and she drew in the water with large, eager gulps.

She didn’t stop until her stomach sloshed with her fill, or at least as much as the corset would allow her to consume. How she longed for the more forgiving leather garments she wore under a leine while practicing with Sylvi and the other women.

A breeze brushed her face, and her loosed hair tickled her skin. Delilah swallowed once more before trusting herself to speak. “Were you not ill as well?”

“I was, my lady, and am feeling much better now.” Leasa assisted Delilah into a sitting position. Though they moved slowly, lightheadedness threatened to pull her to the ground once more.

Sunlight slashed over the pathetic remnants of their camp. A bit of scorched earth and ash stood where a fire had once been, and the grass lay flattened nearby, no doubt where Leasa and Donnan had lain, but that was not what made her cry out.