Page 21 of The Best of Brenna Grant

“Aye, my lord.” Kenzie hurried through the walkway and returned with his well-worn puppy. “Where am I going, my lord?”

“Home,” Brodie replied. “‘Tis time for you to go home with us after we’re done with this wee skirmish.”

Kenzie’s face lit up as he stared at Loki in delight.

Loki gave his father an appreciative look and then held his hand down to the laddie. “Aye, you’re moving in with the Grants. Welcome to the clan.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Loki meets the “rat bastard” again.

He walked toward the gate, his gaze searching for any sign of Bella. He noticed the area around the keep was quite empty—the clan members he’d seen here on his first visit had apparently deserted the earl. He was told to wait outside the gate for the earl to come to him.

That’s when his world collapsed. The Earl of Cliffnock lumbered toward him, his hand holding a dagger to the delicate throat of his wife. Loki had no moves. Alex had told him not to worry, that the situation would be handled from inside. When activity exploded in the keep, Alex and his men would be ready to attack. But there was no sign of Kenzie or the others.

What if Kenzie had failed?

“Set the bag down, but don’t come any closer. I want it on that tree stump over there. I’ll not play the fool again, Loki.” The earl’s eyes danced with a look of superiority.

Hamish came out from behind him. “No wise arse remarks today, Loki? Are you sure you do not wish to take me on? One wee fight. Whoever brings the first to the ground wins. What do you say? The earl gave me permission to fight you, just once.”

Loki stood, his gaze not moving from the earl’s. “Here’s your coin. Release my wife—we have an agreement.” He placed the sack on the tree stump Blackett had indicated, his gaze locked on the dagger at Bella’s throat.

Hamish continued to throw his best taunts his way, but he would not allow the brutish man to distract him from his focus.

His father said, “I do have an agreement with Hamish. He wants a fight with you. I’m of a mind to allow it. What say you, son?”

“I’m not your son, and I am naught like you. Free Bella as you promised. I am not interested in battling with Hamish. I only want my wife.”

The grin that exploded on Edward Blackett’s face told Loki the man had known all along that he was not his sire.

“Nay, ‘tis true, you’re not really mine. You are too much of a lass like your mother.”

Loki ignored the laughter from the opposing guards, his gaze still fixed on Bella.

Then the only thing that could sway his mind happened.

Hamish reached over and rubbed Bella’s bottom, and she chirped, a sound that traveled straight to his soul in an instant.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Loki would kill the rat bastard for touching his Bella. A loud growl erupted from him and he dove at Hamish, throwing three punches at the man’s face before he could react. Hamish swung his leg out, catching the back of Loki’s knees and dropping him to the ground with a roar. He punched Loki in the belly twice before he was able to roll away.

Blood ran down Hamish’s face, and to Loki’s disgust, the animal actually licked it and smirked as he hopped back onto his feet. The two circled one another, Hamish taunting Loki, Loki refusing to respond. Taking the older man totally by surprise, Loki flipped onto his hands and hit him hard in the chest with both feet before he landed upright again. He then pounced on him and pummeled his face. After throwing two punches to the man’s belly, Loki grabbed him by the throat, swearing to choke the life out of him. Just then, Hamish kicked him square in the ballocks, bringing him to his knees. Hamish had to fight to get back to his feet, gagging to regain his wind, while Loki fought the sheer pain of the blow. Just as he made it to his feet again, Hector tossed his sword at Hamish.

“A sword against an unarmed man? Fair contest, aye?” Loki blew the hair out of his eyes and fought to level his breathing, reminding himself that being in control was more important than having the most powerful weapon. His sire and his uncle had taught him well, and he would be victorious. Uncle Alex had often told him that all his training could ultimately be for only one fight, but that fight would mean life or death for him or a loved one. How true his words were.

Hamish swung the sword over his head and heaved it toward Loki’s middle, but he easily spun away, causing the older man to stumble. Taking several steps away, Loki tried to come up with a plan to best the sword. But there was no need. Logan appeared behind him on his horse and tossed him a sword.

Satisfaction crossed his face as the cold hard hilt of the sword rubbed against the calluses of his hands. This was his sword—the sword crafted by Brodie Grant for his son. He swung the weapon a couple of times away from Hamish to get the feel of it again, then he waited for the lout to move toward him. Patience, Uncle Alex had often told him—patience, skill, and brute strength would always win the day.

Hamish moved his one hand, a move Loki had been trained to watch for, something that meant a warrior was about to switch his grip. At the exact moment when Hamish changed hands, Loki swung his sword in a wide arc, a move he’d practiced many times. But this time was different, for this time his swing was fueled with hatred for the man who’d mistreated his mother and with fury for the man who’d dared touch his wife.

Throwing his entire body behind the force of the arc, he caught Hamish in the arm first, causing blood to shoot up from his body, then buried the sword deep into his belly.

Hamish’s eyes turned dull as he crumpled to the ground, clutching for something—anything—to avoid the fate he’d sought. Instead, the life force drained from every part of him. “Wise-arse bastard.”

Loki grabbed the hilt of the sword and twisted it, forcing an eerie sound from Hamish’s throat. “Rat bastard. This is from the wee lad you left in the forest alone to die.”