Branded By a Warrior (8 page)

Sitting bolt upright, Elisabeth screamed in the midst of a nightmare, the sound of her own scream finally woke her from her prison.

Opening h
er eyes, she sat up straight;
the
sheer
agony of her injury hit her like a mace.
Gasping at the fire in her shoulder, she ran a hand over her injury and saw she had been treated, and changed. The blood was gone from her
skin;
her hair smelled like fresh roses and she occupied the biggest bed she had ever seen in her life.

Panic struck her as she realized she had no idea where she was, scanning the room she saw she was alone in the most handsome room she had ever laid eyes upon, surely nothing this beautiful could belong to Kincaid.

Then she saw it.

Above the fireplace, the family crest of Clan MacMillan.
Covering her mouth to contain her sobbing, she closed her eyes and wept. God had seen fit to see her live another day.
She was safe at Castle MacMillan.
Scanning her scattered memory, she had no recollection of how she
gotten here
, or who had saved her life.

She was safe, safe behind the
fortified walls
of Castle MacMillan, the most notoriously impregnable castle in all Scotland. Kincaid could never find her here; he would never touch or harm her again. Broderick would never allow that
, that
much
she knew
.

Sitting in the middle of the large bed, she reached up with her good arm and brushed away the lingering tears on her face
as she continued to take in the room
.

Across the room she saw a large fire roaring in the hearth, a welcoming large leather chair placed direct before it. It looked heavenly, feeling frozen to the bone; she scooted to the side of the tall bed.

Clenching her jaw
she tossed the warm covers from her legs, ignoring the pain she
swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to focus on the room.
Her balance seemed off, she was as weak as a
babe
.
Shaking her head, she tried to clear the cobwebs from her
mind
. She was nauseous and wobbly, h
er stomach growled in hunger as she attempted to stand up.

As soon as her feet touched the floor, she realized her error. So weak
,
she couldn’t support
herself;
she crumpled to the ground in an agonizing groan as her body screamed in pain. Hearing a shuffling, she looked up to see
two large wolfhounds a
ppear from the foot of the bed, trotting over to her with wagging tails.

Silently c
rying
,
she managed to push herself off the floor and lean against the
bed.
Beside her the wo
lfhounds walked up and sat on each side of her, cradling her against the bed for support.
Sitting on the cold floor, she looked beside her to see wolfhounds as big as she was nestled in close to her bare legs. Cradling her left shoulder with her right hand, tears fell down her face as the pain seared through her upper body. Finding it hard to
breathe
, she closed her eyes and con
centrated on regaining control as she sat upon the floor.

She sat there for a very long time, thankful for the dogs; they kept her warm as she tried to ride the wave of pain out. With her head bowed, she heard the door to her room quietly open.
Beside her, each of the wolfhounds lifted their large heads and started to wag their tails.
Looking up she brushed her
hair out of her
face, wiping a few tears with it. She looked
across the room to see a large figure looming in the doorway.

Squinting,
“
Laird MacMillan
?”
H
er voice quiet and weak,
still unsure she was seeing th
e notorious warrior before her, it was too dark.

Both wolfhounds got up at the same time and
trotted over to
the tall man standing in the door. Sitting on the ground, she sat helpless as another wave of pain washed over her.
Willing herself to not shed another tear, she clenched her jaw in agony.

The moment he stepped inside the room, she could see his face, locking eyes with him
she watched him shut the door behind him
. He wasted no time walking
over to where she so gloriously sat in a heap on the floor.

Kneeling before her,
“Aye,
but ye
may call me Broderick,
”
he smiled
down at her,
his wolfh
ounds at his side, “Welcome to C
astle Macmilla
n Elisabeth, I’m glad to see ye
come back to the land of the living,”
giving her another
irresist
ible
smile a
s knelt before her, “why are ye
on the floor lass?”

As he approached
,
her jaw almost dropped, she remembered he was handsome all those years ago, but now, he was bloody i
rresistible. He was the finest man she had ever laid eyes on, his dark hair begged to be touched, his green eyes
seemed to look directly to her soul. He was intimidating, yet he did not scare her. His voice was like velvet, he was charming and kind, he put her at ease with his calm demeanor.

Realizing how she must look, she quickly pulled down her chemise
down
to cover more
of her leg
s
, no man had ever seen above her knees before. It was quite embarrassing to feel so helpless before a man who vibrated dominance.
It was something she was very unfamiliar with.
Rubbing the lingering tears off her face,
“
I woke up
in a panic, I
wanted to sit by the fire and collect my thoughts
,”
she admitted, watching him look her over
, she could feel her face bloom with a flush.
Annoyed with her own reaction she grew flustered, since when did she care wha
t a man thought of her? Since when did
she
feel embarrassment?

Before she
even had the final words out of her mouth
, he had scooped her gracefully off the cold floor and had her tucked close against his broad chest.
Taking a deep breath, she realized the bed she slept in smelled just like him,
heaven
.
Was this his room?
He was so quick, yet gentle; he had not bothered her injury picking her up at all.
Jesu, he was strong.

“Ye have been asleep for
well
over a week lass, we almost l
ost you.
”
H
is voice vibrated through
his chest in a low calming tone as he carried her over to the fire.

“A week?”
N
ervously tugging
her chemise down,
she had never fel
t this weak and helpless before
the feeling was frustrating. Being in Broderick’s strong arms made her feel things she had only felt a few times in her life. At three and twenty it was rare for a woman of
her standing to still be unwed, let alone a virgin.
Nestled against his chest as he walked her over to the roaring fireplace it made her realize she was still
felt something for Broderick.

To this day, she still hadn’t told anyone about him kissing her senseless at the border festival all those years ago, even Broderick didn’t know. In the dark of night, he had thought she was someone else. Pushing that memory aside, she tried to contain her embarrassment as the
gorgeous warrior
handled her like a wee child.

***

Carrying her across the room, Broderick looked deep into her eyes.
Green eyes, she had green eye
s. How did he forget that?
He had seen the flush creep across her face as he scooped her up. He had seen the play of emotions across her face as he walked in, she recognized him. The thought made him happy, he knew she wasn’t scared of him; the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

Sitting her gently in his favorite chair, he reached over and pulled a warm tartan plaid
off the back of the chair
and laid it across her legs, “
M
y wolfhounds found you face down in the snow over a week ago, we brought you back here immediately, w
e weren’t sure if you’d make it.
”
P
ulling
up a
nother chair beside the fire he sat down
beside her
and
warmed his
hands, staring into the fire as
he thought over the past week, “My healer and
trusted elder slowly nursed you back from the brink of death. Ye are very lucky Elisabeth, I’ve seen many men laid low with far smaller wounds.” He waited for her to reply, to speak. She said nothing as she sat beside him. He watched her as tears rolled down her face, she was quick to wipe them away as she stared into the crackling fire.

“I’m sorry for yer loss Elisabeth, truly I am.” He had so many questions for her, yet could not bring himself to ask. She was suffering immeasurable loss, asking her questions right now was not the right thing to do. 

***

Elisabeth pulled the long plaid up to her chest; she tried
scanning her memories for what happened after she had left her castle, she could remember very little.

Running her hand over her shoulder and down over the bandage, she looked
into the fire and remembered, “Duncan made me promise to escape, our parents had been murdered and the village and castle were burning. He refused to allow me to stay and fight, he threw me on his horse and told me to ride to
you
,
”
turning her head to look at Broderick
,
her eyes brimmed with tears as she continued, “he
begged me to survive, he was killed as I fled to the tunnel. I was blindsided by a Douglas warrior who gave me this,” motioning to her bandaged wound, “I traveled for what seemed like d
ays, my body must have gave out
.”

M
emories and smells flooded her senses as she sat beside Broderick and watched the fire dance; the heat felt comforting as she tried to regain control of the emotional turmoil inside of her
.
 

“
You made it to my lands Elisabeth
, indeed yer body did give out. You had lost an unspeakable amount of blood lass. With the bitter cold and severe wound, tis a miracle ye survived at all. Th
ey wil
l pay with their lives
, winter
has us locked in until thaw,
and at
that time
my men and I will ride south to deliver Kincai
d his fate.” H
e swore as he looked
into the fire, his voice as cold as winter.

“I will ride with you
.
”
She vowed in a cold tone.

She noticed his eyes upon her after she spoke the words. H
er mind replaying the horrific scene
s
as she
absentmindedly
toyed with her family heirloom necklace. She hadn’t asked permission, she merely stated fact. She would ride with him when they attacked the Douglas clan.

“We shall see Elisabeth, you may never be able to hold a br
oadsword again lass. Heal first
.
”

Tilting her head to sky she closed her eyes, at least he hadn’t said no. She knew he was the ultimate authority;
silently reminding hers
elf to not argue she sighed deeply
.
She had never learned to be submissive, no man alive could tell her what to do if she so chose to do it. Yet, with Broderick, she was at his total mercy. She needed him to help her avenge her family; it was not something she could accomplish on her own. She was still injured and in need of shelter, which forced her to understand that Broderi
ck was Laird of Clan MacMillan, and she had to bow to his wishes.

Ultimately, she knew h
e was right; her injury may very well prevent her from ever pulling back a bow or wielding a broadsword again.
She could hardly use her left arm, and she had no clue if she would ever regain her strength enough to be confident enough to fight
again
.
Remembering what her
beloved
mother had taught her years ago,
she nodded in ag
reement with the brooding giant, she had time to convince him.
She
would
heal, and she
would
fight, and she would prove it to him.