Highlander The Conqueror (Blood & Honor Trilogy #3) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Tags Authors: Series: Blood & Honor Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 101336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
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“Do you know why your brother chose to marry me?”

“Why does anyone agree to an arranged marriage? Convenience. Benefit to the clan. An alliance.” He hesitated before saying, “Duty.”

“I cannot see what benefit I would bring to Clan Ravinsher.”

“Evidently, my father and your father thought differently.”

His father, of course. “Perhaps your father can shed some light on my query.”

“He’s dead as well, though he was poisoned, whereas Warrand was attacked after leaving your clan and killed.”

“Good, Lord,” Sky said, and recited a silent prayer for both men.

“I will avenge their deaths and those responsible will not meet their deaths easily.”

Sky did not know what to say. Her concern for her own dilemma seemed trivial to what Slayer was going through. At least her sisters were still alive.

“We will camp at dusk. It will be a good time for you to open your eyes and allow them to adjust to the fading light and a low campfire.”

Fear surged through her. Even in the fading light he would see why everyone thought her evil, possessed, a witch, and countless other names she had been called. Her clan had accepted her because her mum and da had given them no choice. Though the clan truly never accepted her since they had paid her little heed. It never mattered to her, since she had her sisters and the animals who loved her, or at least that was what she told herself. She had no idea what Slayer, his troop of men, and his clan would do when they looked upon her and that frightened her.

With nothing more to say, though truly not knowing what to say, Sky remained silent. She was not wise in the way of men, mostly averting their glances when they spotted her, others shaking their heads at her as if she had done something wrong.

When she was just a young lass, a lad approached her one day when she was drawing with a stick in the dirt. He smiled and they talked and for a brief time she had been thrilled to have made a friend. But when his mum had caught sight of him, she had yanked him away from Sky and admonished him for speaking with her. The lad had avoided her after that.

Through the years people grew accustomed to her and some would nod a greeting, but no one ever sought her as a friend. Hence, she relied on her sisters for friendship. Again, she realized how alone she truly was and that she only had herself to rely on. There was no one, absolutely no one she could turn to for help. That thought continued to frighten her, and the ache to go home squeezed at her heart.

The steady rhythm of the ride soothed her and gently rocked her senses into a state of calm. Each stride of Lord Slayer’s mount seemed to synchronize with the beating of her heart, creating a comforting cadence that enveloped her. The warmth of his body pressed against hers, a tangible shield against any chill, while the firm strength of his arms wrapped around her provided a sense of security she had not known in ages.

Finally free of the oppressive confines of the abbey, she allowed herself to relax, if only for a fleeting moment. Weariness, like a heavy blanket, settled over her, pulling at her. She fought to keep her head erect, to stay vigilant, but exhaustion overpowered her. With a soft sigh, her head fell to rest on Lord Slayer’s shoulder, finding an unexpected pillow to comfort her.

As she drifted off into a light sleep, her mind remained on high alert, a skill honed through her wanderings in the forest and her time imprisoned in the abbey. Every rustle of leaves, every distant sound was noted, her instincts attuned to the slightest sign of danger.

“We follow as planned?”

“Aye, Ross. It would be best for now.”

Sky recognized Lord Slayer’s voice through her hazy slumber. It was distinct and held authority that one was not likely to disobey. His powerful voice alone would capture one’s attention. But what of his features? Did he have fine features or plain features? Or common features like most folks? What color were his eyes? His hair? She knew it was long since her face rested against several thick strands that laid on his chest. It was softer than she expected, and she was not sure if the scent of smoke came from his hair or had lingered in her nostrils. She did, however, catch a hint of pine in the hair strands and wondered over its color. Was it dark like the earth in the forest or lighter, perhaps touched by the light of the sun?

Her thoughts drifted along with her uneasy slumber and a sudden chill raced a shiver through her for a moment, leaving her to think she was still imprisoned in the cell at the abbey. Her tremble barely ended when she felt a blanket slip over her and get tucked around her. The tender gesture and added warmth were enough to further relax her and she allowed herself to linger in a light slumber.


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