Page 84 of A Highland Bride Forgotten
“Fall back,” Archer growled. “Or I’ll kill ye.”
Finlay let out a bitter laugh. “Nae if I kill ye first,” he said. “Ye will pay for everythin’ ye’ve done to me…to Noor.”
“Noor?” Archer asked with a confused frown. “Who cares about Noor?”
That seemed to enrage Finlay, as he roared and charged at Archer, ready to attack. Archer parried the blow, stepping to the side to avoid a collision with the man, before he dealt an attack of his own, desperate to end this as soon as possible. He didn’t want to be caught up in a meaningless fight. All he wanted was to get to River.
“I do!” Finlay shouted. “I care about Noor! I always have!”
Oh Lord…he loves her.
“Get out of me way,” Archer warned him. “I must get to River.”
“She’ll die like she deserves!” Finlay said. “She’ll die for betrayin’ her maither, for fallin’ in love with a man like ye. For havin’ yer bairn.”
It wasn’t as much of a surprise as it would have been had Archer not already realized that Finlay loved Noor. Still, he would have never thought this man, who seemed so hellbent on protecting River, on keeping her safe no matter what, would now turn against her just because she had fallen in love with him.
Had he ever truly loved River? Or had he only ever loved her mother?
The latter sounded far more likely. No one could simply kill someone they loved.
“And ye will die with her,” Finlay continued, but Archer had no desire to listen to any of it. He was nothing but a fool, a weak, predictable man. He wanted to harm others, just like the woman he loved had wanted to hurt others. They were one and the same, and Archer held no sympathy for either of them.
Wasting no more time, Archer rushed towards Finlay, their blades meeting. With their short daggers, they had to move close to each other, so close that Archer could feel the man’s hot breath on his face now as they stared at each other in the eye.
He had never seen Finlay like this before, but then again, he hadn’t seen much of him in the past. All he knew was that he had to have been hiding his true intentions if River never suspected him.
He couldn’t imagine how she must have felt when the man she loved and trusted so much turned out to betray her. He looked at Finlay with disgust, and he attacked again and again, givinghim no time to respond—only to defend himself, though he was already getting slow.
“What have ye done to her?” Archer demanded as their blades met once more with a clang. “Did ye hurt her?”
“I should have hurt her more,” Finlay said, hissing through his teeth. “I should have killed her with me own bare hands for what she did. But I…well, I suppose some things are easier said than done.”
So, in a way, he does feel for her.
But Archer knew he couldn’t use that to his advantage. Finlay had gone mad. His only option was to kill him as soon as possible and rush to save River.
Archer sidestepped the next attack and then turned around, circling Finlay. He counterattacked, but Finlay was still quick enough to block him with an arm, before he pushed him back with surprising strength. Archer stumbled backwards, but remained sure-footed. He waited and waited, not moving until Finlay himself made the next move, and then he charged, too, the two of them meeting in the middle of the distance that had only just separated them.
A cry left Archer’s throat as he raised his blade high in the air and brought it down. Just as he pierced through Finlay’s vest, then his shirt, and finally flesh, he felt the tell-tale sting of a blade cutting through his skin over his right ribs, but he could tell the cut was shallow.
Unlike the one he had dealt Finlay, his blade digging deep into flesh.
For a moment, Finlay’s eyes widened as he looked down at the blood that poured from his body when Archer removed the dagger. He seemed surprised to have lost the battle. But then, he looked Archer in the eyes—and smiled.
“Now I can finally be with her,” he said, and then promptly collapsed onto the floor.
Archer spared him no second glance, no second thought before he was off once more, speeding down the corridor. Soon, he found River’s chambers, the corridor outside empty of people. Smoke was coming out from under the door, thick and black, and Archer couldn’t hear a single thing from the other side, no matter how much he tried.
“River!” he shouted, banging on the door. “River! Can ye hear me?”
There was no response, at least not one he could hear. Archer tried the handle only to find the door locked, and he cursed Finlay under his breath for condemning River to such a terrible death. Drawing in a deep breath, he took a step back and stared the door down for a moment. Then, he raised his leg and kicked once, hard, near the lock.
The lock held fast. Archer cursed out loud this time, before trying again and again and again, using all of his strength to bring down a lock that was meant to last.
Then, at the fifth attempt, it finally gave, and the door opened, creaking on its hinges. Black smoke rushed out into the corridor, and Archer coughed, his arm coming up to shield his face.
“River! River!”
