The Silent Highlander (Highland Intrigue Trilogy #1) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Erotic, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Highland Intrigue Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 116749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
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“Brit? Lenis?” he asked anxiously as he struggled to his feet with her help.

“Probably in the woods with the other wives and children.” She tightened her grip on him and got him walking. Once behind a cottage, safely out of sight, she braced him against it. “Gather your strength and I’ll help you to the woods.”

He shook his head and winced.

“Don’t be foolish to think you can return to fight. Go find the women and children and protect them,” Elysia said

“Come with me,” Kevin urged.

“I’ll get you to the woods, but I must return. I’m needed here. I’ll bring more wounded to you if I can,” Elysia said.

Kevin managed a brief nod and leaned heavily on Elysia as they made their way to the woods. Brit ran out to meet them when they reached the edge and took hold of her husband, tears running down her cheeks.

“He’s fine, Brit. He’s a bit dizzy and disoriented, but otherwise he is good,” Elysia assured the worried woman. “I’ll bring more wounded to you if possible.”

Brit nodded and was about to thank her for saving Kevin, but Elysia had already turned away and had taken off into the heart of the fighting.

Not a moment was lost to thought, Elysia immediately got busy, dodging the fighting to get to the wounded. It was one time her petite size worked well for her. Her heart ached for the men too seriously wounded to move. She did what she could for them and prayed it was enough to help them hold on until this madness ended. She did manage to get four wounded men to the woods, leaving the women there to tend them, according to her instructions.

It seemed like the attack went on forever, seeing man after man fall as the stench of battle grew heavy and the cries of the wounded and dying grew never-ending. Sounds, she feared, she’d never stop hearing. Yet, it was only a short time since the battle had begun and Elysia feared what time would bring.

A sudden roar pierced the air like a mighty clap of thunder and all fighting ceased for a moment and in that brief moment a horde of fierce warriors descended on the village. Some of the faces were smeared with white and blue streaks, others wore leather or metal helmets. The powerful horde raged through the village, slicing the enemy down one after the other, pushing women aside who were trying to help the wounded, and leaving mayhem in their wake.

“THE CURSED ONE!” a warrior screamed.

Fear struck Elysia as sharp as an arrow and she braced herself against the side of a cottage, the fighting fiercer than she ever thought possible and leaving her little room to dodge the swords and axes that swung endlessly.

Some of the enemy warriors continued fighting while others ran, but most didn’t get the chance. They lost their lives to the horde who fought like savages. She wanted to cover her ears and close her eyes against the madness, a foolish thought she wisely ignored. Though, she regretted not doing so in the next instant when she spotted the warrior atop a black stallion. There was no doubt who he was—the cursed one.

He was huge. Black leather covered his broad chest and his thick muscled arms were bare. A metal helmet covered his head and partially his face, a metal strip running protectively down over his nose. Even from a distance one could see the intense madness in his eyes as he felled men one after the other with a single swing of his double-sided axe.

She had to remind herself that he was not the enemy. He was there to help them. He would win this battle for Clan Loudon. Or did he win it for himself?

Elysia yelped, her hair yanked so hard she stumbled back.

“You’re coming with me,” a man said, tugging her tight against him. “I’ve watched you help the wounded. You’ll help me and my men.”

She had little choice as he forced her to walk around to the front of the cottages. She knew his intention. He was trying to get to the woods on the other side of the path that ran through the village. Somehow she had to get away from him before they reached the woods.

When his men saw him, they fought to cut an open path for him. He kept a painfully tight grip on her arm as he shoved her along. They were nearly in the center of the path when a vicious roar filled the air that sent the dogs howling. She was forced to an abrupt stop when the man suddenly halted and she looked to see why.

Her breath caught and she thought for sure her heart stopped beating. Fear rumbled through her at the sight of the cursed one charging toward them on his black stallion, a double-sided axe in his raised hand and his eyes glaring with the fires of hell.



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