The corridor seemed longer than usual, but finally he reached their chamber door.He could hear sounds from within.A struggle, Fiona's voice raised in alarm or anger, he couldn't tell which.
Connor threw the door open just as his wife's scream pierced the air.
The scene that met his eyes burned through the drug-induced haze like fire.Fiona was pressed against the far wall, her chemise torn at the shoulder, facing off against a figure in dark clothing.But it was the shadowy form moving toward him from beside the door that registered first and the glint of steel in the dim light.
Pain sliced across his shoulder as a blade found its mark, cutting through fabric and skin but not deeply.Connor roared, the sharp sting and shock burning away the last of the drug's mild effects.
"Ye bastard!"he snarled, spinning to face his attacker.
It was Horas, his face twisted with hatred and something that might have been madness."She should have been mine!"Horas spat, raising the bloody knife for another strike."I waited years for her, planned everything perfectly, and then ye—"
Connor didn't let him finish.His warrior instincts, honed by years of training and battle, took over completely.He caught Horas's wrist as the knife descended again, his grip like iron despite the drug in his system.With his other hand, he delivered a crushing blow to the man's ribs that sent him staggering backward.
"Ye shot her with the arrow," Connor realized with sudden, terrible clarity."When she was fifteen.It was ye."
Horas's smile was cold and triumphant even as he gasped for breath."I thought if I maimed her, no one would want her.She'd have to settle for someone like me eventually.But her father kept hoping for a better match."
Connor's vision went red.With a roar that would have done his ancestors proud, he launched himself at the man who'd dared to hurt his wife.They crashed into the wall, knocking over furniture and sending items flying.
The fight was brutal and chaotic.Horas was skilled with a blade, but Connor fought with the fury of a man protecting everything he held dear.He barely felt the shallow cuts that opened on his arms as he grappled for control of the knife.All that mattered was ending this threat, destroying the man who'd terrorized Fiona for years without her even knowing.
A feminine cry from across the room made Connor's head snap up just long enough to see another struggle taking place.The figure he'd glimpsed earlier revealed Teàrlag.Her features twisted with rage as she grappled with Fiona near the window.
"Planning to throw me out like refuse?"Teàrlag snarled, her fingers clawed and reaching for Fiona's throat."I'll see ye dead first, ye useless cripple!"
That moment of distraction cost Connor dearly.Horas's knife found his arm, opening another shallow but painful cut that made him grunt.But it also filled him with a rage so pure and hot it seemed to burn away every weakness, every hesitation.
With strength born of desperation and love, Connor wrapped his hands around Horas's throat and slammed the man's head against the stone wall.Once, twice, three times, until Horas's eyes rolled back and he went limp.
Connor spun toward where Fiona and Teàrlag were fighting, ready to intervene, just in time to see his wife draw back her clenched fist and deliver a punch that would have made any Highland warrior proud.
Teàrlag dropped like a stone, blood streaming from her broken nose.
"That," Fiona panted, shaking out her bruised knuckles, "was for every cruel word ye've ever spoken."
Connor stared at his wife, she was disheveled, fierce, magnificent and he felt his heart swell with such pride and love it threatened to burst from his chest.The combination of the drug and his shallow wounds made him feel lightheaded, but Fiona was there, her arms coming around him with desperate strength.
"Connor!My love, ye're bleeding.How much did ye drink?Yer eyes look strange—"
"Drugged," he managed, pulling her tight against him with his good arm."Someone...poisoned my mead.But I only took a sip.Morna taught me...taught me to listen to my instincts."
"I love ye," he said, loud enough the entire keep could hear."I love ye, Fiona MacNeil, and I'm sorry I was such a fool about it."
Her breath caught, and when she pulled back to look at his face, her eyes were bright with unshed tears."Ye do?"
"Aye.Desperately.I was sitting downstairs realizing it when they drugged me."He cupped her face with his uninjured hand."I love yer wit and yer courage and the way ye see straight through my bluster to the man underneath.I love that ye just knocked out a woman who was trying to kill ye."
Fiona chuckled."Ye stubborn Highland ox.I've missed you and I want to say that I also—"
Her words cut off as Connor’s eyes rolled back and he passed out.Fiona caught him as best she could, easing him to the floor just as the chamber door burst open.
Ewan and two guards thundered in, weapons drawn and ready for battle.They stopped short at the scene before them.Connor unconscious but breathing steadily, supported by his fierce wife, while two other unconscious figures lay sprawled on the floor.
"Dragon's blood," Ewan breathed, taking in the overturned furniture, the blood spatters, the torn clothing.His unconscious brother lying in Fiona's arms."What happened here?"
"Treachery," Fiona said, her voice steady despite everything."Horas and Teàrlag were working together.She poisoned Connor's drink downstairs, then came here to..."She paused, looking down at Connor's peaceful face."She meant to lure him to her chamber afterward.To cause problems between us."
"And Horas?"
