Read Online Captured Heart by Heather McCollum - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Heather McCollum
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filled her mouth as she gasped, clogging her airways. Bubbles and splashing filled her ears. Red water swirled before her eyes as she blinked into the murk.
“Nay! Meg!” Caden’s voice sounded far away even when his arms lifted her. The weight of the water in her hair pulled her head backward and the heavy clothes anchored her limbs. She couldn’t move, couldn’t open her eyes, could hardly draw a breath. Her self-defense surfaced enough to make her cough, lake water sputtering up and out. Caden turned her gently in his arms.
“Bloody hell!” he cursed. He ran then, with her cradled against his chest.
The jarring hurt, but she couldn’t respond above a whimper. She was too heavy, too cold. Nickum’s whine seemed near and far at the same time. Was this really happening? Please be a nightmare! Although while everything else seemed fuzzy, the pain was very real.
Caden lowered her to the ground, the heaviness of a blanket anchoring her. “Stay with her,” he said. Nickum’s fur brushed her face. “Let no one touch her.” His warm lips touched her forehead and he was gone.
Meg tried to open her eyes but they were too heavy. She fought for consciousness. At least her ears worked. Steel slid and clattered against steel. Men yelled curses in Gaelic, their words slurring into each other in a cacophony of anger and retaliation. A malevolent storm of human angst, hatred mixed with the desperate need to survive, judge, and execute. Hot tears leaked out of her eyes.
“There she is,” a rough, familiar voice called. Nickum growled and moved over the top of her, his back foot against Meg’s cheek. “ Cac! That wolf is guarding her.”
Girshmel. It was Girshmel! He’d joined the enemy, whoever that was.
“I’m not going near it,” another voice said in fast Gaelic. “That’s the largest damned wolf I’ve ever seen.”
Nickum rubbed against her as he sat back on his haunches, preparing to leap. A silent scream. No, Nickum, they’ll hurt you! Run! Nickum growled and snapped, making one man yelp.
“Bloody coward,” Girshmel snarled. “The chief will want her. She’s Meg Boswell, the Munro’s niece. Valuable and a sweet little tidbit at that.”
“Then you get her,” the other voice said.
“You idiot, give me your bow,” Girshmel said.
No! Nickum, run! Her words trickled out on a whimper. Nickum stood his ground over her, growling and snapping. She heard the bowstring pluck and the arrow rip into Nickum. Nickum cried out but didn’t move, just leaned into her. She choked on a straggled breath as she detected the torn flesh and muscles with her unnatural abilities. Blood surged through her friend with energy to fight or run.
“There now, he’s weak. See his eyes? He’s stunned. Pull the lass out by her feet,” Girshmel said. “Hurry, Macbain might come back.”
Nickum didn’t growl. He didn’t do anything when rough hands grasped her ankles. Oh, Nickum. What have they done ? The man pulled. She focused on her leg muscles to kick at the man, but blood was flowing out of her too fast to give her muscles the energy they needed to fight. Oh, God, she was losing too much blood!
Nickum’s muscles contracted, and he sprang away. The man dropped her ankles. She tried to block out the sound of teeth and ripping flesh. She tried to roll, pull herself away from the carnage, but her blood-starved body wouldn’t cooperate. Fresh tears leaked from her closed eyes.
“Shite!” Girshmel yelled over the gurgling sound of blood and screams. She heard him fire another arrow. Nickum’s cry rent the air. Meg couldn’t even flinch, let alone try to help her friend.
“Damn, he’s coming!” Girshmel poured out a string of obscenities, and she heard his feet pound away. The other man’s screams died with his breath and Nickum’s bulk collapsed beside her leg. Meg lay there trapped in agony, unable to move. The numbness that blanketed her body moved higher until she could barely contain the glimmer of
“Nay! Meg!” Caden’s voice sounded far away even when his arms lifted her. The weight of the water in her hair pulled her head backward and the heavy clothes anchored her limbs. She couldn’t move, couldn’t open her eyes, could hardly draw a breath. Her self-defense surfaced enough to make her cough, lake water sputtering up and out. Caden turned her gently in his arms.
“Bloody hell!” he cursed. He ran then, with her cradled against his chest.
The jarring hurt, but she couldn’t respond above a whimper. She was too heavy, too cold. Nickum’s whine seemed near and far at the same time. Was this really happening? Please be a nightmare! Although while everything else seemed fuzzy, the pain was very real.
Caden lowered her to the ground, the heaviness of a blanket anchoring her. “Stay with her,” he said. Nickum’s fur brushed her face. “Let no one touch her.” His warm lips touched her forehead and he was gone.
Meg tried to open her eyes but they were too heavy. She fought for consciousness. At least her ears worked. Steel slid and clattered against steel. Men yelled curses in Gaelic, their words slurring into each other in a cacophony of anger and retaliation. A malevolent storm of human angst, hatred mixed with the desperate need to survive, judge, and execute. Hot tears leaked out of her eyes.
“There she is,” a rough, familiar voice called. Nickum growled and moved over the top of her, his back foot against Meg’s cheek. “ Cac! That wolf is guarding her.”
Girshmel. It was Girshmel! He’d joined the enemy, whoever that was.
“I’m not going near it,” another voice said in fast Gaelic. “That’s the largest damned wolf I’ve ever seen.”
Nickum rubbed against her as he sat back on his haunches, preparing to leap. A silent scream. No, Nickum, they’ll hurt you! Run! Nickum growled and snapped, making one man yelp.
“Bloody coward,” Girshmel snarled. “The chief will want her. She’s Meg Boswell, the Munro’s niece. Valuable and a sweet little tidbit at that.”
“Then you get her,” the other voice said.
“You idiot, give me your bow,” Girshmel said.
No! Nickum, run! Her words trickled out on a whimper. Nickum stood his ground over her, growling and snapping. She heard the bowstring pluck and the arrow rip into Nickum. Nickum cried out but didn’t move, just leaned into her. She choked on a straggled breath as she detected the torn flesh and muscles with her unnatural abilities. Blood surged through her friend with energy to fight or run.
“There now, he’s weak. See his eyes? He’s stunned. Pull the lass out by her feet,” Girshmel said. “Hurry, Macbain might come back.”
Nickum didn’t growl. He didn’t do anything when rough hands grasped her ankles. Oh, Nickum. What have they done ? The man pulled. She focused on her leg muscles to kick at the man, but blood was flowing out of her too fast to give her muscles the energy they needed to fight. Oh, God, she was losing too much blood!
Nickum’s muscles contracted, and he sprang away. The man dropped her ankles. She tried to block out the sound of teeth and ripping flesh. She tried to roll, pull herself away from the carnage, but her blood-starved body wouldn’t cooperate. Fresh tears leaked from her closed eyes.
“Shite!” Girshmel yelled over the gurgling sound of blood and screams. She heard him fire another arrow. Nickum’s cry rent the air. Meg couldn’t even flinch, let alone try to help her friend.
“Damn, he’s coming!” Girshmel poured out a string of obscenities, and she heard his feet pound away. The other man’s screams died with his breath and Nickum’s bulk collapsed beside her leg. Meg lay there trapped in agony, unable to move. The numbness that blanketed her body moved higher until she could barely contain the glimmer of
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