One of my men looms over her, where she lies crumpled and unmoving on the ground.
My vision narrows, tunneling until all I see is red. I lunge forward, grabbing a fistful of Doran’s surcoat and yank him off Everly. He stumbles, nearly falling as I turn back to her. Bloodtrickles from a cut on her lip, and her cheek is already starting to swell.
Rage boils inside me as I whirl on Doran. In two long strides, I close the distance between us and wrap my hands around his neck. I twist sharply, lethally. His body goes limp, and I let it fall to the ground.
The red haze of fury slowly recedes as I turn back to Everly. She lies so still. So pale.
I crouch beside her, sliding one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulders. Her head rolls against my shoulder as I lift her, cradling her against my chest.
Carefully, I lay her on the bed. My hand lingers on her cheek, thumb brushing over the angry red mark blooming there.
“Liam!” I bellow, not taking my focus off of Everly.
Footsteps approach, and the tent flap rustles. “What’s wro—”
Liam’s eyes widen when he sees Doran’s body.
“Get rid of it,” I say.
Liam doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the bastard’s ankles and drags him out of the tent.
I straighten and hurry to a nearby tent, snatching up a basin of clean water and some cloths.
Back at Everly’s side, I sit on the edge of the bed. I dip the cloth into the cool water, wringing out the excess before pressing it to Everly’s swollen cheek. She stirs, a whimper escaping her lips. My jaw clenches, fury threatening to consume me again at the thought of Doran’s hands on her.
“Shh.” Carefully, I dab at the cut on her lip. “You’re safe now.”
I rinse the cloth and return to her face, this time focusing on her forehead, where a small gash mars her skin.
The desire to gather her in my arms overwhelms me, but I resist. Instead, I continue tending to her wounds with gentle, methodical care.
When I’ve cleaned away all the blood, I set aside the basin and cloth. I tug the blanket up over her, tucking it carefully around her shoulders. My hand hovers over her for a moment before I allow myself to cup her uninjured cheek.
Her lashes flutter, then her eyes snap open. Fear floods her gaze as she tries to push herself away from me.
“Shh,” I say, catching her hands in mine. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”
She stills, her chest heaving as she stares at me.
“It’s all right, Evie. I’ve got you.”
Her fingers curl around the edge of the blanket, and she squeezes—her knuckles turning whiter and whiter. “I fought back. I didn’t give up.”
I swallow, trying to push down the rage that threatens to consume me again. “Well, he’s dead now.”
Her breath hitches, and she blinks rapidly, her eyes darting around the tent, as if searching for something. Maybe searching for him.
“You...” Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and she winces as it touches the cut there. “You killed him?”
I nod.
“Thank you,” she whispers as her eyes meet mine again.There’s something in her gaze I can’t quite decipher. Relief? Fear? Maybe both.
I want to tell her she’s welcome, that I’d do it again in a heartbeat. That I’d kill anyone who dared to harm her. But I don’t.
Something holds me back. Maybe that same something that doesn’t understand any of this. This fierce need to protect her.
She lifts her hand to her lips. “He kissed me. Tried to force himself on me.”
