Hannah Howell - Highland Hunger

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Table of Contents

Books by Hannah Howell

ONLY FOR YOU * MY VALIANT KNIGHT
UNCONQUERED * WILD ROSES
A TASTE OF FIRE * HIGHLAND DESTINY
HIGHLAND HONOR * HIGHLAND PROMISE
A STOCKINGFUL OF JOY * HIGHLAND VOW
HIGHLAND KNIGHT * HIGHLAND HEARTS
HIGHLAND BRIDE * HIGHLAND ANGEL
HIGHLAND GROOM * HIGHLAND WARRIOR
RECKLESS * HIGHLAND CONQUEROR
HIGHLAND CHAMPION * HIGHLAND LOVER
HIGHLAND VAMPIRE * THE ETERNAL HIGHLANDER
MY IMMORTAL HIGHLANDER * CONQUERORS KISS
HIGHLAND BARBARIAN * BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
HIGHLAND SAVAGE * HIGHLAND THIRST
HIGHLAND WEDDING * HIGHLAND WOLF
SILVER FLAME * HIGHLAND FIRE
NATURE OF THE BEAST * HIGHLAND CAPTIVE
HIGHLAND SINNER * MY LADY CAPTOR
IF HES WICKED * WILD CONQUEST
IF HES SINFUL * KENTUCKY BRIDE * IF HES WILD
YOURS FOR ETERNITY * COMPROMISED HEARTS
HIGHLAND PROTECTOR * STOLEN ECSTACY
IF HES DANGEROUS * HIGHLAND HERO
HIGHLAND HUNGER

Books by Jackie Ivie

HEAT OF THE KNIGHT * A KNIGHT WELL SPENT
ONCE UPON A KNIGHT * A KNIGHT AND WHITE SATIN
KNIGHT EVERLASTING

Books by Michele Sinclair

THE HIGHLANDERS BRIDE * TO WED A
HIGHLANDER
DESIRING THE HIGHLANDER * THE CHIRSTMAS
KNIGHT
TEMPTING THE HIGHLANDER

Publishing by Kensington Publishing Corporation

Chapter One

Bleeding bitch! That witch is cursing us!

Raibeart frowned at the words cutting through the predawn quiet. He had already paused in his ride to the caves because of the noise of people thrashing their way through the woods. Whoever the fools were, they were stumbling their way all over the path he had chosen to get to his shelter. That could cause a delay, and time was not something he had much of. He moved his horse deeper into the shadows of a small stand of trees fighting each other for space.

There she is!

Just as he wondered if he could slip around the men, Raibeart caught sight of their prey. Her pale hair was a beacon for her enemies. Even men without the keen sight of a MacNachton could see that hair in the dim gray of approaching dawn. Slender, her skirts hiked up high to make running easier and revealing strong slim legs that swiftly stirred his interest, she did not look much like the women men usually decried as witches. She was young and buxom. The slender form he grew more interested in by the moment suddenly stilled. He watched as she caught sight of her pursuers and then she bolted.

Wheesht, Tor, the lass can run, he muttered to his horse as he watched the woman race through the trees, leaping over every obstacle with nimble grace. Shame she is doing naught but running in circles.

Despite their clumsiness, the five men chasing her managed to herd her into the center of the small clearing and soon encircled her. Raibeart studied the way the woman crouched slightly, moving with care to keep each man in her sight. There was something about the way she moved, the way she so skillfully evaded each lunge of a man, and the way the men approached her as if she were some dangerous animal that sharpened his interest in her beyond mere physical appreciation of her beauty. Her hands were curved in a way that resembled claws as she slashed out at the men, and he could hear her growl softly. If not for the waves of fair hair hanging to her slender hips, he would think she carried MacNachton blood.

He looked up at the sky. A rapidly approaching dawn had already lightened the dark of night into a paler gray. The sun would begin to climb into the sky soon. The safety of the caves beckoned but he shrugged. He had time to rescue a fair-haired woman. Raibeart secured the reins around his left hand, studied the ground, and touched the sword sheathed on the saddle.

Ready, Tor? I am thinking we have a few moments to be gallant, aye? He began to walk his horse closer toward his target, wanting to be just a little nearer to the woman before he charged. A little fun before taking our rest. Mayhap our journey will then be less of an utter failure.

Una struggled to catch her breath. She was not as strong or as fast as she needed to be to fight these men. Blood loss and months locked in a cage had sapped her strength. The thought that she was failing the ones who depended upon her to help them only added to her growing weakness, stirring a weariness that went to her soul. She had such hope in her heart when she had first fled Dunmorton, but that hope was rapidly turning to ashes at her feet.

Ye are more trouble than ye are worth, said Donald, the one Una considered the meanest, ugliest, and most slack-witted of the lairds venal minions. I dinnae ken why the laird wants ye back.

She suddenly recalled that not all of the lairds men knew why the laird held her and the others captive, except to give the old man a ready supply of young women to force to his bed. That did not explain the two youths or the two children, but the men of Dunmorton were not known for their deep thoughts. She wondered if telling them the truth would turn them against the man. These men were already jealous of their laird and his favorites, angered that they did not share the women they kept caged. That jealousy could be turned to rage if they discovered what else the old man was not sharing.

Then she met Donalds narrowed eyes and cast aside the thought of stirring dissent in the ranks. It would probably work but would be of no help to her. Donald would do his best to kill her before he raced back to the keep to demand his fair share of the lairds bounty. Una did not think the knowledge that Donald and the lackwits with him would be swiftly killed would offer her much joy, for she would be dead. And, she thought, if these men learned the truth, the people she had hoped to save would soon die as well.

I dinnae believe the laird would appreciate his lackeys questioning him, she said.

And he doesnae appreciate his game escaping its cage, either.

Tsk, it seems disappointment must be the madmons lot this day, aye? She turned her head to hiss at the man trying to creep up on her side. Back away, ye wee bastard, or I will rip ye open and strangle ye with your own innards.

She could tell by the way Red Rob narrowed his eyes that her reference to his short stature would cost her. From the moment she had been dragged to Dunmorton and he had realized that she was several inches taller than him, he had loathed her, taking what few chances he got to add to her misery. If these men caught her, Red Rob would make sure that she suffered every step of the way back to captivity.

If? Una almost laughed aloud. There was no uncertainty about her fate. She could not stop the men from capturing her. The only thing in question at the moment was how much damage she could inflict upon them before they brought her down. Una prayed it would be a lot.

Failure was a bitter taste on the back of her tongue. She had tried so hard, planned so carefully, that it struck her as monstrously unfair that she should fail. Even worse, Una knew she would never find a chance to try again, nor would any of the others. They would all spend what remained of their pitiful lives locked in cages, the women dragged to the lairds bedchamber whenever he demanded it, and all of them bled repeatedly to make the laird and his chosen men strong. The thought of the youngest of the lairds captives suffering such a fate made her want to scream out in rage.

Una was just thinking that she would put an end to the game by going on the attack when the sound of hooves thundering over the ground made her and her enemies tense. The way her attackers eyes widened and they all stepped back, scurrying away until she had no one at her back, caused Una to glance in the direction of the approaching sound. If whatever came their way frightened her enemy, it could only be good for her.

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