Page 18
Story: Midnight Conquest
“This here’s—”
“Fergus MacLeod,” Tomas interrupted, eyes widening. “What th’ bloody hell happened to him?”
Blood—dried, dark, and caked—marred the man’s swollen face and tunic. One eye nearly shut. Nose obviously broken.
A rider emerged from the dark, and Broderick went still.
“Mr. MacLeod attacked me in my chamber,” came the rich,steady voice.
Davina.
“Youdid this to him?” Tomas gawked, blinking hard.
Davina lifted her chin, posture proud. “He gave me no choice.”
Broderick grinned to himself in the shadows. “Good girl,” he murmured.
“With my husband away on business, he thought he could take liberties,” she continued, calm but cold. Her mare pawed the earth beneath her, ears flicking as if echoing her outrage.
“Why didn’t he come down here to begin with?” Tomas asked.
“I tried to tell him my situationandthat your establishment was more suited to his taste, but the brute insisted. Serves him right, I say.”
“Well, I guess ol’ Fergus won’t try tha’ again.” Tomas shook his head and chortled. “Help me bring ’im inside, Liam. I’ll settle up with him on the morrow.”
Tomas and Liam grunted as they hauled MacLeod’s limp form from the wagon, dragging him around the back of the tavern. Davina sat astride her mount, back straight, a sensual delight for Broderick to drink in under the glow of the lanterns.
He leaned forward, breath fogging the window. Even distorted through warped glass, she was a temptation.
Full lips. Auburn hair, hastily gathered in a tumble of curls. Stray tendrils framed her delicate features—elegance carved in defiance. Desire surged, hard and brutal. Memory hit like lightning—her breathy moans, the way her hips had moved beneath his, the clutch of her body as if it never wanted to let go.
Gods,he needed her beneath him again. No more dreams. No more restraint. But first…her husband.
She’d said he was away on business. A convenient delay.
Broderick’s lips curled.
Let the bastard return.
Let him face what waited in the dark.
The Hunger purred at the thought.
Liam and Tomas marched through the tavern from the rear of the inn, stopping at the front door to clasp hands.
“Thank you, Tomas,” Davina said. “Can you make sure he doesn’t try sneaking back to the castle?”
“Aye, ye have my word, mistress.” Tomas clapped Liam on the back. “Leave the wagon. I’ll get it to the stable directly.”
Liam gave a nod and unhooked the lantern bracket from the wagon’s front rail, then moved to untie the tethered horse. Once mounted, he and Davina turned toward the road, heading off into the dark. Broderick watched them fade into the mist, vanishing like whispers in the fog.
As they disappeared, Broderick stood from his table, dropped two gold coins onto the counter, and gave Tomas a short nod.
“G’night, lad.”
Tomas beamed and pocketed the coins. “An’ a good night to you, sir!”
Once Broderick was free of the village’s edge, he broke into a supernatural sprint. The wind tore past him, biting at his skin, but he barely felt it.
“Fergus MacLeod,” Tomas interrupted, eyes widening. “What th’ bloody hell happened to him?”
Blood—dried, dark, and caked—marred the man’s swollen face and tunic. One eye nearly shut. Nose obviously broken.
A rider emerged from the dark, and Broderick went still.
“Mr. MacLeod attacked me in my chamber,” came the rich,steady voice.
Davina.
“Youdid this to him?” Tomas gawked, blinking hard.
Davina lifted her chin, posture proud. “He gave me no choice.”
Broderick grinned to himself in the shadows. “Good girl,” he murmured.
“With my husband away on business, he thought he could take liberties,” she continued, calm but cold. Her mare pawed the earth beneath her, ears flicking as if echoing her outrage.
“Why didn’t he come down here to begin with?” Tomas asked.
“I tried to tell him my situationandthat your establishment was more suited to his taste, but the brute insisted. Serves him right, I say.”
“Well, I guess ol’ Fergus won’t try tha’ again.” Tomas shook his head and chortled. “Help me bring ’im inside, Liam. I’ll settle up with him on the morrow.”
Tomas and Liam grunted as they hauled MacLeod’s limp form from the wagon, dragging him around the back of the tavern. Davina sat astride her mount, back straight, a sensual delight for Broderick to drink in under the glow of the lanterns.
He leaned forward, breath fogging the window. Even distorted through warped glass, she was a temptation.
Full lips. Auburn hair, hastily gathered in a tumble of curls. Stray tendrils framed her delicate features—elegance carved in defiance. Desire surged, hard and brutal. Memory hit like lightning—her breathy moans, the way her hips had moved beneath his, the clutch of her body as if it never wanted to let go.
Gods,he needed her beneath him again. No more dreams. No more restraint. But first…her husband.
She’d said he was away on business. A convenient delay.
Broderick’s lips curled.
Let the bastard return.
Let him face what waited in the dark.
The Hunger purred at the thought.
Liam and Tomas marched through the tavern from the rear of the inn, stopping at the front door to clasp hands.
“Thank you, Tomas,” Davina said. “Can you make sure he doesn’t try sneaking back to the castle?”
“Aye, ye have my word, mistress.” Tomas clapped Liam on the back. “Leave the wagon. I’ll get it to the stable directly.”
Liam gave a nod and unhooked the lantern bracket from the wagon’s front rail, then moved to untie the tethered horse. Once mounted, he and Davina turned toward the road, heading off into the dark. Broderick watched them fade into the mist, vanishing like whispers in the fog.
As they disappeared, Broderick stood from his table, dropped two gold coins onto the counter, and gave Tomas a short nod.
“G’night, lad.”
Tomas beamed and pocketed the coins. “An’ a good night to you, sir!”
Once Broderick was free of the village’s edge, he broke into a supernatural sprint. The wind tore past him, biting at his skin, but he barely felt it.
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