Read Online His Scottish Pet: Dom of the Ages by Red Phoenix - Free Book Online Page A

was pinned to the ground. He looked down to see the sharp end of a tree branch protruding from his chest and a pool of blood quickly soaking his shirt.
    His struggle for breath alerted him to the fact his lung had been punctured by the limb.
    Buchanan screamed when she saw him. “No! No, Master Leon! You can’t be hurt. Please, no!” She pulled off her tartan and pressed it against his chest, tears streaming down her face.
    In gasping breaths he told her, “Go back… Get water boiling… I will… come.”
    She looked at him in horror, automatically switching to her Scottish dialect. “Ah’ll not leave ye!” She began sobbing uncontrollably as blood continued to pour from the wound. He could read the panic on her face and knew of only one way to stop it.
    “Chrisselle…”
    Her tears stopped momentarily and she looked at him.
    Calling her by her given name had the effect he was counting on. His gasping for air was getting worse and he knew it frightened her. “Do… as I say… I will… come… I need hot… water.”
    The terror painted on her face was enough to break his heart. “I don’t want to leave ye here to die!”
    He said again, his voice getting weaker, “Go… now…” He took another breath and added, “Run.”
    She pressed her mouth against his, her lips salty from her tears, and then got up and ran back to the cottage. When she was out of sight he called Eventide to him. The horse was jumpy from the stench of his blood, but Eventide was a noble steed and fought his natural instincts to run. The stallion bowed his head, allowing Ryce to grab onto the reins with both hands.
    “Back!” he grunted.
    The horse pulled back, but stopped when he felt resistance.
    “Back… Eventide!”
    The horse mustered his strength and Ryce felt the branch dislodge from his chest. The blood quickly filled the void, causing him to cough up bountiful amounts of crimson—the reason he needed Chrisselle far away.
    He fell onto the mossy ground and closed his eyes. Once upon a time, he would have panicked. The pain, blood loss, and the struggling for every breath would unnerve any man. But he’d been through it too many times to react now.
    Even as he lay there, his body was repairing the damage. It was his curse, a body that could not die. One that forced him to live on as those around him succumbed to nature’s time-honored rule—where there was life, death was not far behind.
    Eventide nudged him with his nose. Ryce’s eyes flickered open. “It’ll be… fine, old man. Just… give me a bit…”
    The sun was ready to set before he was able to get to his feet. His steed knelt down so that he could climb onto his back. He held on tight as Eventide made his way without being directed. It was a hard and grueling journey, made more painful with each jolting step. He would have stopped to recover, but he knew that Chrisselle must be frightened. He hoped she’d stayed at the cottage like he’d ordered.
    Thankfully she had. The girl cried out the instant they broke through the trees. He assumed she’d been waiting outside for hours hoping for his return. “You’re alive!” she sobbed in relief.
    He grunted with pain as he slid off his trusted friend and let Chrisselle help him into the cottage. She guided him to the bed and then fetched the boiled water. Her hands were shaking so badly that she almost spilled it on herself.
    “There, there, pet… Master is fine. No sense in being careless.”
    She went to peel back his shirt, but he stopped her. “I can care for myself.”
    Chrisselle’s reaction was unexpected. She sat on her heels and began crying hysterically. When he asked what was wrong she howled, “That is what faither said, but he deid!”
    Ryce closed his eyes. The ghosts of her past were rearing their heads. He was unwilling to cause her any more pain.
    “Fine. You may dress it.”
    She got back to her feet, brushing away the tears before she came to him. “Thank you, Master.” She made a