Page 55 of The Chief's Wild Promise

An instant later, he’d swiped the man’s dirk and driven it up under his jaw.

Makenna didn’t hesitate.

She brought her slippered heel down hard on the foot of the man to her left and then twisted right, slamming her forehead into the mouth of the other warrior.

Fury turned her vicious. She didn’t hold herself back. Instead, she used every skill she’d learned from Walker, every dirty trick Alec had taught her—and every subtle moveTormodhad shown her.

Earlier, she’d noted the hilt of the blade peeking out from the boot of the warrior to her right. She’d known that was what she’d go for if she got the chance. And she did so now.

Grabbing it, she slashed the warrior to the left across the throat and then ducked a punch from the man she’d just head-butted, cutting him across the back of the knees.

A great roar went up in the hall—angry shouts and the hammering of booted feet as the chieftain’s men reacted and lunged for her.

Makenna dove for the pit, reaching it moments ahead of the Campbell warriors. Yanking up the heavy iron lid—even as the muscles in her upper arms screamed at the weight—she let it fall to the floor with a heavy boom. She then turned back to face her attackers.

Just a few yards away, Bran was now fighting Tormod. The two of them slashed at each other with dirks.

Her belly dropped to her boots.Christ’s blood. Not him.She’d sparred with Tormod often enough in the past to know just how good he was. Bran could handle himself in a fight, but he wasn’t that warrior’s equal. She hadn’t met anyone who was.

But she couldn’t focus on him right now, not when she was surrounded.

Meanwhile, her father had used the distraction to deal with the two men who held him. One of them lay face down on the table, blood pooling under his head, while the other grappled with his captor.

Campbell had leaped to his feet, drawn his dirk, and was bellowing orders. “Robbie!” he yelled. “To me!”

The chieftain’s son, who’d rushed toward the pit with the others, swiveled, moving back toward the chieftain’s table.Together, father and son advanced on Makenna’s father.

But she couldn’t focus on him either.

Snarling curses, she struck at any warrior who came within reach. However, there were too many of them. She wouldn’t be able to hold them off for much longer.

But she didn’t need to, for now that the pit was open, the men inside had worked together to climb out of it.

A large broad-shouldered figure barreled past her, moving low.

Rae tackled one of the warriors around the thighs, bringing him down. Alec, Aodh, and Mungo were right behind the chieftain of Dounarwyse—and then, suddenly, the fight wasn’t quite so one-sided.

Nonetheless, there were seven of them fighting against a dozen. The odds weren’t in their favor.

Jerking back as a blade swiped at her face, Makenna kicked her assailant hard in the cods. She then drove her dirk into the soft flesh above his collarbone. She yanked her blade free as he grunted and fell to the floor.

Only then did she dare take her eye off the Campbell warriors still swarming around them, to see how the fight between Tormod and Bran was progressing.

And to her surprise, her husband was holding his own.

Bran had told her that a bow and arrow were his weapons of choice, yet he handled himself well with a dirk. Both he and Tormod were bleeding now though. Blood slicked Tomrod’s forearm, and a shallow cut oozed on Bran’s cheek.

Neither of them took their gaze off each other.

All the same, the savagery on Tormod’s face chilled her blood, as did the coldness of his eyes.That was what made him a better warrior than most—his utter lack of mercy.

Unless she did something, Tormod would eventually best her husband.

Meanwhile, Alec had fought his way through the press, collecting a blade as he went, and was now at her father’s side. Black Duncan, Robbie, and three other warriors surrounded them, but the two men were doing an admirable job of holding them off. For the moment.

Another warrior rushed at Makenna then, drawing her focus once more, and after she’d bested him, her gaze returned to Tormod and Bran.

Tormod had backed her husband up. Bran now fought just a few feet from the wall. Any closer and he’d be trapped, and Tormod would strike.