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Her heart slamming against her ribs, Bryanna swallowed hard and took one step closer to Euphemia, who raised the dagger higher and let it point at Bryanna’s stomach. “One wrong move…”

Hot sweat broke through the skin of Bryanna’s back, and adrenaline ran through her, making her shiver all over.

Kick her! Grab that knife! Do something!

But her arms felt boneless, and her mind was getting as cloudy and thick as a milkshake.

And then from somewhere behind Euphemia, a big, tall figure with a sword dripping blood was approaching. Even though she couldn’t see straight, and everything was blurry, Bryanna knew it was Angus.

“You’ll die in the arms of the man you love…” she said, but it came out as weak as a whisper.

“What?” Euphemia asked, wincing in confusion. “Ye spoke so weakly. What did ye say?”

Lifting her hand that felt as heavy as cast iron, Bryanna gestured with her index finger for Euphemia to come closer.

Curious, impatient, Euphemia leaned forward, and Bryanna locked her eyes with the woman. From the corner of her eye, as if in slow motion, she saw Raghnall drive his forehead into the face of one of the guards. Angus raised his sword, blood flying through the air like raindrops.

There was a movement from her sides—perhaps her own guards realized what had happened.

But Bryanna had to keep Euphemia distracted for a moment longer. With as much strength as she could muster, she said, “You will die in the arms of the man you love.”

As Euphemia’s eyes widened, and her pupils dilated—from fear, no doubt—Bryanna knew she’d gotten to her. Her mouth opened; her pretty, arched eyebrows drew together in an upside-down horseshoe.

And then she turned around and saw…

Raghnall had just slit the throat of one of her men. Angus, who had just killed another guard, pulled his sword from the man’s stomach and looked straight at her.

Euphemia glared at Bryanna, fury in her eyes. “Ye bitch…”

She drew her hand back for a deadly strike. With her last bit of strength, Bryanna stepped back, but she staggered and fell. Her head knocked against something hard and sharp, pain exploding in her skull.

Stars were bursting behind her eyelids, bright and golden. And as everything was fading into black, and she was growing cold and disappearing into the air, she desperately commanded herself to get up, to live, to keep fighting.

But her vision had gone completely dark.

Only one image remained.

Her, dead, in a medieval dress, dirt and bruises on her pale face and hands. A Highlander carried her body, grief stricken and mournful.

Only this time his face was crystal clear.

Chapter 29

As Raghnall watched the life slip from the woman he loved, he went cold and immobile.

And not just his body. His heart. While a moment ago it had beat, warm and alive and whole, now it stopped. Every ounce of blood and tissue turned into ice. And as moments flew past, and Bryanna, as pale as death and as unmoving as a corpse, didn’t show a sign of life, the ice in his chest was cracking…

And breaking into millions of tiny pieces.

“Nae!” he yelled. “Nae!”

She couldn’t be dead. She’d told him about that vision and about her sickness…but he’d done everything to prevent it.

Nae!

A sword swooshed, aiming for his face, and he stepped back in the last moment, sending his own blade into the shoulder of his attacker, cleaving his arm off. The scream of pain did nothing to Raghnall—he barely heard it.

While fighting with another man, he kept throwing glances to see if Bryanna would move or breathe…or something—but she remained as still as the earth she was lying on.