Oh, God, no, she silently prayed.
“Do it now, Megan,” he said, his voice rough, the pointed end of his tongue rimming his lips, “and do it slowly.”
“Sweet Jesus, you cannot ask me to.”
“Guard!” he yelled. “Send for the boy—”
“Do not!”
“Then unleash my cock, whore, or see the boy suffer, and if that is not enough to convince you, I’ll bring your precious Wolf up here so that he can watch me bed you.”
“Nay—”
“And each of my most trusted men will stand in line, waiting and watching for their turn to lay you any way they so wish, and you will service them while the outlaw looks on.”
I’ll die first, she thought, and decided that she had no choice but to do as she was bid, for though she would go willingly to the gates of hell rather than suffer the humiliation and degradation that Holt conjured, she could not take her child’s life. Be strong, Megan.
As she reached upward and touched the leather of Holt’s breeches, she caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye. She dared not look too closely and pretended interest in the task at hand. Holt closed his eyes and groaned in ecstasy.
The door inched open and Wolf, blood running from a cut in his forehead, rushed into the room. “Run!” he yelled at Megan.
Holt’s body jerked. His eyes flew open. Megan ran to the door, and Holt, seeing his enemy’s reflection in the blade of his weapon, hoisted his sword high as he swung it round, facing the door. He slashed the air with his weapon, his eyes centered on Wolf. “Die, you bloody bastard!”
“Only if I take you with me!” Wolf said as he swung a bloodied sword at the new baron, twisting from the blows of Holt’s weapon. Too late. The sharp blade sliced into Wolf’s arm. Blood sprayed the chamber. Megan screamed, and with her horrified eyes trained on the two men reeling, parrying, lunging, and swearing, she stepped away, closer to the fire, searching for something, anything, to use as a weapon.
“This is for Mary, the fisherman’s daughter!” Wolf cried as he jammed his sword into Holt’s thigh. Holt roared in pain, but struck with his sword, slicing through Wolf’s tunic.
“Tadd raped her.”
“Aye, but you held her down, did you not?”
Oh, God, they were both going to die! She found a stick used to tend the fire and lifted it, only to have the slender wood cleaved by Holt’s sword and her feet knocked out from under her. “You, too, will see the end of this earth,” he promised her, spinning to meet Wolf’s thrust. Desperate and mindless of the fear, Megan held on to the short end of her stick, and on her knees, stretched upward, plunging the cleaved stake into the wound at Holt’s side, the wound she’d inflicted earlier. Holt bellowed like a wounded bull.
“Jezebel!” he roared, but fighting the pain, swiped his weapon at Wolf. Swords clanged, bodies fell against her. Megan, struggling to her feet, lost her balance and fell. The room spun, rush lights glittering wildly. Wolf and Holt locked swords as the rush-strewn floor came up to meet her.
“Megan!” Wolf cried.
Her head slammed into the stones and her body crumpled. The room temporarily went black as she felt a sharp, hard pain deep inside, a tearing, but she bit down against the agony and tried to save Wolf.
“Stay back!” Wolf commanded. He swung fiercely, cutting Holt on the ear.
With fire in his eyes, Holt rushed forward.
Wolf grinned with vengeance and held his sword aloft. “Now, you die, bastard!”
Men rushed into the room and Megan thought that they were Holt’s men until she recognized the sorcerer, Robin, and Hagan of Erbyn. Her heart soared for an instant.
“ ’Tis over!” Hagan ordered.
“This is still my castle!” Desperate, Holt grabbed Megan, one arm locked around her waist, the other holding his sword outstretched as he used her naked body as his shield. “Leave me be, or she dies!” he screamed.
She kicked him hard in the shins, her heels screaming with pain, but he didn’t let go, and to Megan’s horror, Connor stepped into the room, a crossbow in his hands. “Everyone step away!” he ordered in a voice as cold as the depths of a bottomless well.
“Thank the saints!” Holt said, his legs unsteady. He shoved Megan aside and approached his knight. His smile faltered as the flat-eyed man watched him. “It’s been days since you took the prisoner and …” His gaze wandered to the sorcerer and his words stuck in his throat for a second. “Where have you been, Connor?”
“To hell and back.” The soldier’s eyes narrowed and he let the bolt of his weapon fly as Wolf reacted, hurling his sword at his enemy, the blade driving deep through the muscles of Holt’s chest to pierce his dark heart. The crossbow bolt gored Holt in his gut. “This is for lying to me about Cayley, you pig. I know you intended not to give her to me.”
“Bloody God, no!” Holt cried out, falling to his knees as he stared blindly at the man who had defied him, and fell into a useless heap, where he surrendered his last rattling breath.