Page 71 of The Highlander’s Defiant Bride

At the same instant, Callum moved. He reached for the reins of the nearest horse, loosening its tether just enough to sow confusion, then shifted his own mount aside, opening a narrow gap in the line.

Destiny did not hesitate. She flung the knife away, thrust the small piece of plaid into her bodice, then grasped her saddle with her numb hands, tightened her thighs around her horse, leaned forward, and kicked. Her horse bolted through the opening.

“Stop her.” Shouts erupted behind her, but she was already free, the wind tearing at her hair as hooves thundered beneath her. Arrows hissed past, one grazing her shoulder, but she did not stop.

Ahead, she could see the ridge rising, sunlight glinting off steel. Cameron’s men stirred at the sight of a lone rider bursting from the enemy’s ranks.

The Munros, Sutherlands, and Rosses roared as one, shields slamming together, their battle cries echoing down the valley. The Mackenzies charged, the ground vibrating with the weight of men and war.

Destiny reined her horse towards the Munro line, breath burning in her chest. Behind her, the sky erupted into darkness as arrows rained down, their hiss slicing past her ears. The thunder of the Mackenzies in pursuit shook the ground beneath her.

Then she saw him.

Cameron broke from the Munro ranks, charging towards her like a force unto himself, every line of his body carved with urgency.

She urged her horse faster. The world dissolved into chaos around her as the two armies collided. Some men fell while others surged forward. The valley reverberated with the sounds of fury and death.

But all she saw was Cameron.

She pushed her mount up the rocky ridge, but the incline betrayed her. The horse stumbled, hooves slipping on loose stone. The world lurched sideways, and Destiny was thrown from her horse. She hit the ground hard, pain bursting through her palms as they ground against unforgiving rock.

Before she could even gather breath, Cameron’s horse stopped beside her. He dismounted and pulled her upright, gathering her into him with a desperation that stole what little breath she had left.

For a heartbeat, the battle faded. She felt only his arms around her, the hammering of his heart against her cheek, the raw relief in the way he held her.

“I thought I had lost you,” he said, his voice rough, frayed at the edges as he searched her from head to toe for any sign of abuse.

“I am well,” she whispered, clutching his tunic as if she could hold them both in this single, fragile moment. “And you will never lose me.” Her grip tightened. “They mean to wed me to the Mackenzie laird’s eldest son, before your eyes, then kill you.”

He drew back just enough to look at her, the fire in his gaze fierce and unmistakable, a restraint stretched thin to breaking.

“Over my dead body,” he said, his voice a low, lethal promise.

“They have a cleric,” Destiny went on, anger sharpening her words more than fear ever could. “My father rides with them.”

Something savage flared in his eyes then, hot and unrelenting. “He will never use you again,” Cameron said, each word driven by iron resolve. “Never.” His hand came up to cradle her face, steady and certain. “You are everything to me. Everything.”

An arrow shrieked past them, close enough that she felt the force of it lift a strand of her hair before burying itself in the dirt beside them.

Cameron cupped her face, his rough palms unsteady against her skin. “Listen to me. Run behind the line. Stay with the healers. I will find you when this is done.”

Destiny shook her head, her fingers fisting in his tunic. “Nay.” Her voice broke with the strength of it. “I will not hide while you fight for me. This time, I stand with you.”

Another arrow struck the ground behind them as the battle drew closer. But Destiny felt only the fire between them, her resolve meeting his fear. And she knew, as he looked at her, that he understood. She was done running. Done being used. Done being silent. Whatever happened next, she would face it at his side.

Their gazes locked, and for an instant something deep and unspoken passed between them until Cameron drew her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Then stay close,” he murmured. “I will not let this day be our last.”

He turned, raising his sword just as the Mackenzies crested the ridge. Their roars shook the air as they surged forward. Cameron stood, forcing her behind him, his blade flashing as the first attackers struck.

Destiny had never been more frightened in her life. Even so, she reached for the weapon of a fallen warrior, and with the weight steady in her grip, she rose.

Whatever happened next, she would not run. She had spent her whole life being pushed, bartered, silenced—but not today. Not here. As the ridge erupted in battle, Destiny planted her feet beside Cameron. They fought together—not as laird and lady, but as equals bound by something stronger than blood or vengeance.

The world dissolved into chaos. Steel rang against steel, men screamed, horses reared, and arrows struck bodies with sickening, final thuds. The noise battered her from every side, a relentless roar that swallowed reason and fear alike.

Destiny’s sword felt wrong in her grip, too heavy, too long, unbalanced, as though it belonged to someone twice her size. Her arms shook with the effort from the moment she raised it. Her palms burned. She could not remember how Cameron had shown her to stand, how to angle her shoulders or her feet.

But she refused to let the blade fall.