Free The Fraser Bride by Lois Greiman Page A

darkness and his helmet, she was not allowed to turn.
    “Stay!” he gritted, and tightened the arm banded around her waist. She froze, her heart striking hard against her ribs.
    “Who are you?” Her voice quavered in the darkness, but there was no answer, only the slightest tilt of the arm across her body.
    Beneath them, the midnight steed left the water and leapt, scrambling onto the shore before lurching toward the north at a hard gallop.
    Anora hunched forward, snatching for a hank of mane, and the warrior’s grip shifted, tightening like death across her bosom. She gasped for breath and bravery, but terror lit anew in her soul. “Why do you do this? What do you want?” she whispered.
    ‘Twas forever before he growled a response. ” ‘Tis I who should ask that question.”
    Her mind reeled. He acted as if she had wronged him in some way, but she did not know him. Did not recognize his voice, could not visualize his face, and yet when he spoke, there was something that welled up with the fear, something indefinable, just beyond the reach of her mind. She struggled to see past the barrier.
    “So
now
you wish to know me?” he snarled. His breath felt hot against her neck. ” ‘Tis a bit late for that, me
lady.”
    “Who are you? Where are you taking me?”
    “Wherever I wish.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I am strong and you are weak. “Tis the way of the world, is it not?”
    Against the horse’s flying mane, Anora’s hand shook. Miles flew away beneath them. “Please.” She whispered the word into the oncoming wind. “Let me go.”
    No response.
    “Why are you doing this?”
    The hard muscles of his legs tightened and against her chest his arm crushed her all the more. “Long has the sin gone unpunished.”
    The sound of distant water splashed against the edge of her consciousness. Were the MacGowans coming for her? But no. Her captor was ungodly clever. He’d dragged her onto a horse only to dismount in the water moments later. In an instant the horse had disappeared alone, and they had scrambled upstream to another mount and ridden in the opposite direction. No one would find her …
    From behind, the sound of a hoof on a rock made her catch her breath. She froze, waiting for the warrior to turn and listen, but he did not. Instead, she felt the cold metal of his nose guard bump her skull.
    The truth struck her suddenly. His helmet muffled the sounds from behind. ‘Twas the helmet and perhaps his inexplicable hatred for her that kept him from hearing the noises that followed them.
    Distract him, her mind screamed, but for a moment she could think of nothing. Nothing but the memory of rending fabric, of control being ripped from her by brutal force.
    “Sin?” she rasped. “What sin?”
    “Methinks you know.”
    “Know what?”
    “Why you must die,” he said. The horse lurched around a boulder and in that moment a branch struck her head with dizzying force.
    She was thrust from the warrior’s grasp. He reached for her, but she kicked with all her might, thrusting her legs out in a desperate attempt to be free, and suddenly she was falling.
    She hit the ground hard. Desperation kicked her to her feet and she fled, scampering like a wild hare through the underbrush.
    She knew the instant he turned after her. She must find cover! Up ahead, thick woods loomed in a darker shade of black. Her lungs tore as she sprinted toward the forest. Her feet tangled in her skirt, but she managed to stay upright, to keep running. Behind her, heavy hooves thundered against the sod. She heard the horse’s snort of exertion, felt its hot breath. Too late, too late! She twisted about, trying to dart away, but in that instant a cry ripped through the darkness. Pivoting wildly, she prepared to meet death, but instead she saw another horse lunge into view.
    The warrior turned his destrier to meet him. There was a moment of blinding silence and then his challenge roared through the darkness.
    The two horses charged in