Cherished by A Highlander (Highland Revenge Trilogy #1) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Highland Revenge Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
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“You have great confidence in him.”

“Ryland is a man of great strength and even greater courage. I have no doubt he can still save our clan even though we lost the battle.”

Shade climbed the stairs to her bedchamber, her whole body aching with each step. She paused a moment to lean against the stone wall, her legs feeling as if they could not take another step. She had been on her feet long after others had gone to bed tending to Caleb. He had grown restless in his sleep and had thrashed about, opening the one wound she had stitched. It took time repairing the damage done, then his fever rose, and she had worked with Ula to get it down. Caleb now rested quietly, and all Shade wanted was the comfort of her husband’s arms in bed. Unfortunately, she didn’t think his arms would welcome her and she was too tired to argue or even discuss anything with him. All she wanted was sleep.

As soon as she entered the room and saw that The Monk waited for her, she knew she would not get to sleep anytime soon. She stood staring at him. He sat in the lone chair, his legs stretched out in front of him and his feet bare. The only thing he wore was his plaid. The strip of plaid that usually fell across his muscled chest hung loosely to the side, leaving his chest bare, except for his muscled arms that lay folded across it. She was relieved his eyes only sparked rather than flared with anger. He had calmed some giving her hope they could talk reasonably. But she had seen for herself that when The Monk wanted answers, he got them.

She spied a jug and two tankards sitting on the small table and went and filled one for herself and took a swallow. The wine was refreshing so she took another swallow.

“Do you need to fortify yourself to talk with me?”

Shade turned. “You would know the answer to that better than me. Do I?”

“I want answers, and I want them now,” The Monk demanded, annoyed that he did, seeing how exhausted she was. How could he let himself feel for her when he never felt a bit of remorse when it came to hunting down those responsible for Amara’s senseless death?

“As tired as I am and with how much I need to sleep, I need even more to understand why my husband allows The Monk to be so angry with me to the point where I can almost feel his hatred for me. What happened last night that my husband Quint finds it so difficult to return to me?”

Shade went and sat on the bed and removed her shoes and wanted to remove her stockings, but it seemed too much of an intimate gesture in front of The Monk. She pressed the bottoms of her feet on the wood floor to try and ease the aches out of them and a chill raced through her, along with a shiver.

The Monk launched himself out of the chair so forcefully that Shade drew back. He moved the chair in front of the hearth, then went to Shade, grabbed hold of her arm and all but propelled her to the chair, forcing her to sit.

“Warm yourself,” he ordered.

Shade kept her smile from surfacing, pleased that The Monk hadn’t completely devoured Quint. But then she should have remembered simply by seeing Ula tend to her husband… love held the most power to heal. And love was beginning to break through The Monk’s defenses.

“Please, Quint, I miss you terribly. Please tell me what happened that fired The Monk’s rage, so we can quell it.”

He was eager to talk and even more eager to quell his rage, but he feared what he might discover would enrage him even more. “I met a man who told me who was responsible for Amara’s death.”

Shade gasped. “Oh, my goodness, That’s wonderful, Quint. You will finally have all your answers and will be able to lay this to rest.”

The anger that rose in his eyes surprised her and filled her with dread. It grew as he stepped in front of the chair and braced his hands on either side of her, trapping her there as he brought his face close to hers.

“Aren’t you going to ask me who it is?” he whispered harshly.

“Who?” Shade asked oddly uncomfortable with him being so close and it grew when he suddenly sneered.

“You, dear wife. It is you.”

Her breath locked in her chest at his accusation, and she found herself unable to breathe, she was so stunned. She fought to breathe and the more she did the more she felt as if someone was choking the life from her.

Quint realized she couldn’t catch her breath, and he drew back to give her room and ordered, “Breathe!” When she continued to struggle, he grabbed her and forced her to her feet. “Bloody hell, Shade, BREATHE!” Fear gripped him and the only thing he could think of doing was to give her his own breath. He covered her mouth with his.


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