Read Online Warrior Untamed by Melissa Mayhue - Free Book Online

guts like a diseased worm. He’d been so close. He could have taken the sword from boy but he’d chosen to protect him first, planning to reason with him after. His failure lay bitter in his mouth.
    “Bah!”
    “What’s that you say?”
    Bridget pulled her horse closer to his and reached out a hand to brush his forehead with her fingertips. He ducked away, too slow in his movements to effectively avoid her touch.
    He needed to think clearly and her touch had the uncomfortable effect of muddling his thoughts.
    “Move away from me if you like, but it does yer argument no good. I can see the fever in the color of your face.”
    As if he needed her to tell him he had a fever. The burn spread out from his arm to consume his whole body, like a dry forest under siege of wildfire.
    “We should have stayed on the sword’s trail,” he muttered, knowing she would hear and take the bait. Anything to distract her from her constant hovering. He could deal with her irritation; it was this tender worry that drove him to distraction.
    “There’s no point in yer wasting yer breath on it, O’Donar. That discussion ended miles back down the road.”
    “I’d reopen it, then. I’m feeling better now.”
    A truth, more or less. Though he had little hope of recovery, he did feel much stronger than he had immediately after his injury.
    “Oh, of course you are.” As if sarcasm hadn’t hung heavily enough in her tone, her accompanying snort clearly carried her opinion. “If yer so much better, then answer me this. Why is it that yer clearly burning with the fever? The way you felt to my touch, we’ll no even need to build ourselves a fire this night. We’ll just heat our meal by holding it close to yer skin.”
    The chuckle rumbled up from deep in his chest and out into the open, beyond his ability to stop it. Damn, but the woman lightened his spirit, even when she was angry.
    “You think any of this is funny? This is not funny. It’s damned deadly serious.”
    Perhaps most of all when she was angry.
    “You’re correct. Our situation is no laughing matter.” He allowed a moment to pass before he circled back to the conversation she wouldn’t like. “But neither can we continue to ignore that which is most important. We must have the sword and the scrolls. We cannot allow them to fall into the wrong hands. And while we bicker, they travel farther away from us with each step we take.”
    She shook her head, stubbornly refusing to look over at him. “No. I’ll hear none of it. Any moment now, we’ll cross paths with Patrick and Jamesy and all the others. We’ll tell them what happened and they can go after the sword. We’ve a more important challenge ahead of us. You put yer mind to yer healing.”
    The men from Castle MacGahan were not nearly so close as Bridget hoped. He’d been listening for them to no avail for quite some time. Them and the other party of riders Torquil had sent out.
    “By the time they could reach the sword, it might well be too late.” He breathed deeply before forcing himself to confess his darkest distress. “How can I make you understand, Bridget? I need to go after it myself. It was within my reach and I let it escape me. How am I to go forward, knowing that?”
    Beside him, Bridget jerked on her reins, stopping her horse to turn a powerful glare in his direction.
    “You go forward exactly as I have. Do you think yer the only one to carry regrets on yer shoulders? I not only allowed the sword to slip through my fingers, I missed the opportunity to kill the Beast who owns it. Twice.”
    “That’s different.” She’d had no way of knowing what the sword—or Torquil, for that matter—was capable of. And when she’d tried to kill him, she’d very nearly ended up dead herself.
    “ Different? And exactly how is my failure any different from yers?” she ranted, holding up a hand to silence him before he could answer, anger flashing in her eyes. “No. Dinna you even bother to answer that.