Highlander's Wounded Beast (Beasts 0f The Highlands Book 3)
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Highlander’s Wounded Beast
Alisa Adams
Contents
A Free Thank You Gift
Beasts of the Highlands
About the book
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Afterword
Beasts of the Highlands
Highlander’s Fierce Wolf
Prologue
Chapter 1
A Free Thank You Gift
A Free Thank You Gift
Thank you a lot for purchasing my book.
As a thank you gift I wrote a full length novel for you called Rescuing The Highlander.
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Click here to get you FREE book
Or use this link directly in your browser.
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alisaadams.com/free
Beasts of the Highlands
Book #1
Highlander’s Lionheart
Book #2
Highlander’s Scarred Angel
Book #3 (This Book)
Highlander’s Wounded Beast
Book #4
Highlander’s Fierce Wolf
Book #5
Highlander’s Heart of Steel
Book #6
Highlander’s Golden Jewel
About the book
An oblivious man. An order from the King. A love that can never be.
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Ina is the youngest of the four Ross sisters and the only one who has not found her happily ever after yet. Although being the most petite of the four, she is a fierce warrior who intimidates all men who want to marry her.
When a handsome young Prince comes to the castle riding his beautiful stallion ordered by the King to marry young Ina, everyone thinks she found her very own fairy tale.
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But Ina cannot stand him.
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She instead falls for a huge man named Beiste who came riding an exhausted horse dressed in tatters and without remembering anything! This strange man, despite being wounded, before falling unconscious, he asked her to take care of his horse and nothing for himself. Ina had never met such a selfless man before.
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Being one of a kind herself too, her rebellious character pushes her to act reckless and try to escape her fate. Life is no fairy tale though, so she gets in deadly danger.
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When all hope seems lost the mysterious stranger will wake up from oblivion and any man standing in his way will have to flee.
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But no man can defy the orders of the King. It will take a Beast to do that.
Prologue
It was nearing twilight. The woods were falling into deep shadows as he rode his big stallion through the forest. He could faintly see the turrets of the castle far above the treetops where it sat on the cliffs.
He had been out hunting too long, but had enjoyed his solace, his time away from all his duties.
Suddenly he heard the sharp cracking of a falling branch. Just as he started to turn in the saddle to look in that direction he felt a hard strike to his head.
It sent him reeling off of his horse and to the ground. He struggled to stand, his head spinning violently. His vision was blurry, and worsened by the darkness in the forest.
Another hit to his head and then his chest.
He drew his sword, pointing it at the dark cloaked shape that was a blur in front of him.
The figure rushed at him.
He swung, missing as his feet swayed with the spinning of his head and his dizzying vision.
He heard the hissing of a blade being drawn.
He moved, swiping his arm across his eyes, willing his vision to clear and the dizziness in his head to recede. He managed to parry a few swipes from the cloaked figure’s blade, as whoever it was swung wildly and poorly.
He pushed his stallion away from the swinging of the figure’s wild sword. He tried to move and lurched sideways, falling into the figure’s horse. He heard the horse scream and knew the horse had taken a hit meant for him, as he felt the blood on the horse’s hide.
He jabbed his sword towards the blurry cloaked figure to no avail as he shook his head again to clear it, stumbling on his feet as he moved.
The figure swung again and again. He managed to move out of the way, but only partly. He felt the sting as it slashed across his chest and then heard the horse scream again.
The fool was hitting his own horse! As he turned to push the horse away he felt another sharp, painful blow to his head.
He fell to the ground. More blows came to his ribs and chest, and he groaned in pain.
His world went dark.
1
Scottish Highlands
Late 1700s
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Ina Ross spun Myrtle, her giant Clydesdale mare, around and halted, catching her breath as she stared at the target out in the practice field in front of the castle. She waited impatiently for the other warriors to catch up with her. A few had to get off their mounts to retrieve their dirks that had landed on the ground, totally missing their targets. They seemed intent on showing a bit of thigh under their kilts as they did so, glancing at Ina to see if they had caught her attention.
Ina laughed briefly as she watched them. She was breathing heavily from her exertion on the warm, sunny day. The sea breeze felt good on her heated skin as she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky. When she opened her eyes, she glanced back at Fionnaghal, where she lived with her sister Ceena and her sister’s husband.
The grand old castle’s white stones seemed to be glistening under the blue skies. She smiled with pride as she shoved the sleeves of her white blouse up above her elbows and used a bit of tartan fabric to retie her long blonde hair back in a knot atop her head once again. Her hair was so long it fell to her hips in tight, curling spirals, but right now it kept falling down from the knot on her head and getting in her way. Ina huffed out a breath and pursed her full lips in frustration as she fixed her hair once again. Her light, cornflower-blue eyes turned to study the target as she rammed her hair back into place for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I’d cut it all off,” she muttered to herself, “but me sisters would have a fit since they are all here to find me a husband of me own!”
Ina gathered her horse’s reins back up into her hands and took a calming breath.
“Shall we go again then Myrtle?” Ina spoke softly in a lilting voice to her mare as she patted the horse’s golden neck. Myrtle pawed the ground with one massive hoof in response. Ina grinned as she leaned down and whispered to her mare, “We’re certainly showing them that you are a battle-worthy mount and good for more than pulling a cart, arnae we my sweetling? Now, we have a few dirks left. Let’s see if we can hit that target with the rest like we did the others and show those boys how it’s done!” She flicked her tartan skirts to fall neatly back over her legs once again. She fixed her eyes on the warriors hovering about the top of the practice field with her, ready to go again. Her eyes traveled to their targets and a small smile grew on her face. Not a one of their dirks had hit the center of their targets. Each of her knives had hit dead center of her own target. The men’s knives were all over the place.
“Dinnae ye have a place to be?” she called out sweetly to the men. “Something else to do perhaps? That you are actually good at?” Ina said in her melodic vo
ice. “Like learning to ride yer horse first, before ye go galloping and throwing knives from atop its back?”
The warriors moved restlessly on their horses as they just stared at her.
They always stared.
And blushed.
And stuttered.
Even the warrior who was supposedly training them.
Tongue-tied, every one of them.
Ina sighed in frustration. “If we were gaunnie be attacked right now it would be up to me to defend all of ye. Me; a wee, small, sprite of a weak female on me giant of a horse. To defend all ye big, mighty men on yer wee, poor horses!” She looked at them. The men just stared, wide-eyed at her. So she continued, “I’d be a flinging me knives all around while they rushed us here in this field and ye all would be dropping right and left. Aye, falling off yer horses.” Again, they just stared. Most had big, silly grins on their faces, thinking perhaps she was teasing them.
“Then ye would be left to die a horrible, painful death being trampled by your own men’s horses while ye lay in the dirt and watched, helpless, while yer fellow men fall around ye.” Ina paused, waiting, but no one said a thing. They still grinned at her, not taking her seriously. She added in a louder voice, “Because none of ye can ride or steer yer horses much less throw a knife and hit the targets!”
There came a low grumbling and some slight chuckling from the men. All were used to Ina’s dramatic, embellished ramblings and stories but they were too entranced by the petite, beautiful, angelic-looking girl who rode the massive horse to be able to say anything to her. All four of the Ross sisters were exceptional warriors and could stand with the best of the best. They had all proven themselves in battles. The accounts of their heroics were becoming popular all over the Highlands. Even the King knew them! All four of the Ross sisters were beautiful and not afraid of anyone or anything it seemed. Including this one, the youngest and most petite of them all.
The men just continued to stare and smile, however.
Too flustered to respond.
It was always the same. Most could barely form a single sentence in her presence.
Be patient, my man will come, Ina said to herself.
Ina sighed and kicked Myrtle into a canter, then into a gallop. Myrtle’s huge hooves thundered impressively on the ground in oversized strides. The warriors immediately followed, putting their horses into a gallop as they tried to catch up.
The objective was to gallop towards the target and fling your dirk as you flew past. Timing was everything.
Ina saw a young, brash warrior fly past her on his horse, his kilt blowing up in the wind to reveal his thigh as he bounced all over his poor horse’s back. He came too close to Ina as he passed by, cutting her off and throwing her a triumphant grin. Myrtle threw her head up in the air with a loud whinny as Ina had to pull hard on her so she would not crash into the other horse. Ina frowned furiously and then pushed Myrtle faster, overtaking the smaller horse easily. She watched with satisfaction as the young man looked up at her in alarm as she surged up next to him. His unbalanced seat worsened and he started to fall sideways off his horse. Ina put out her arm and shoved him as hard as she could back into his saddle.
“Ye cocky mon! Hold yourself on yer horses back with your legs!” she called to him as she all but ran Myrtle into his horse to push him back into his saddle. She reached down again and pulled a dirk out of his belt and let it fly.
Right into the center of his target.
Then she quickly pulled out another dirk from her own leather waist belt and let it fly into the center of her own target. She galloped Myrtle past the target, slowing her down to a canter so she could turn her about. The big draft horse felt its mistress’s request. The horse sat back, taking her weight on its haunches, lifted up her massive shoulders, and spun around in place without breaking stride in the canter. The big horse immediately thrust forward with Ina’s urging and went galloping back to the top of the field. Ina’s hair once again had come undone, and was now spilling down past her hips, caught up in the breezes, flying out behind her and over her horse’s hips, blending in with its blond tail. Ina was a creature all of gold and sunlight on a golden horse.
The men stared in awe.
The young warrior who had almost fallen off came galloping up to stop beside her. Ina did not look at him. She kept her eyes on the other targets as the men finished. None had been as accurate as her own.
The young man smiled broadly at her and gushed, “Yer aim was true once again Lady Ina! You are so, so…” he stammered and blushed bright red. “...magnificent!” But he was speaking to her back since she had already turned her giant horse and began walking away from him. He could hear her talking to herself as she rode away.
He missed the roll of her eyes and the huff of her breath as she sighed dramatically. “Tis always the same!” Ina said to herself. “Where oh where is me hero? Where oh where is me own true love? Me sisters have found their own loves; Godet and Laird Gordon, Flori and Loughlin, and even Ceena and Tristan.” She sighed again as she looked towards the white castle on the hill, her beloved home Fionnaghal.
She and her three older sisters had fought hard to keep their home after their evil Uncle Mungan tried to take it from them and force Godet to marry him so he could have it. But he hadn’t won.
Ina stared with pride at the castle, which was on a hill overlooking the sea. Its name meant white shoulders. Ina sighed. She thought it was very romantic, and though its ancient white stones were crumbling in several places, it didn’t matter to her. Her sister Ceena and her new husband Tristan had brought in some men who were slowly and meticulously bringing the old girl back to her majestic self.
Ina rode Myrtle up towards the castle. She saw her two old aunts where they sat on their small Highland ponies watching the young men practicing on the field. Aunt Hexy’s grey hair was flying in all directions, as there wasn’t much hair left in the tiny bun that sat lopsided on the side of her head. Her wrinkled face was alight with interest as she watched the young warriors in kilts practicing on the field. Aunt Burnie was beside her, her attention caught as well. Her head was almost bald save for a few crinkling white hairs striving to stretch up off her fuzzy white head. The hairs quivered and shook in chaos as Aunt Burnie leaned this way and that as she followed the progress of certain warriors.
“Hello Aunt Hexy, Aunt Burnie,” she said, looking down at them as she halted Myrtle in front of the two old ladies sitting on the tiny, shaggy ponies.
“Hello lass,” Aunt Hexy said distractedly as she kept her attention on the young men.
“Hello Ina,” Aunt Burnie muttered as she too strained to see the field.
“Can ye move a wee bit dear?” Aunt Hexy said. “Ye are blocking our view with yer big horse in front of our darling little King Bobby and precious Countess Winnifred.”
Ina smiled at them and nudged Myrtle out of the way of her two old aunts and their small Highland ponies. She loved her aunts and the little ponies with their unique names.
“Aunt Burnie will ye tell me the story of your ponies’ name again—the story of Countess Winnifred? How she saved her beloved husband from the dank, dark prison, and surely a horrible death, by sneaking past the burly guards and dressing her dear, beloved husband like a woman in order to rescue him so they could live the rest of their lives together in eternal bliss and love, and be together happily ever after for always and forever and ever…” She took a deep breath after her long speech.
“Yes dear, yes…ye just told the whole story yerself, now can ye move a bit more? We cannae see,” Aunt Hexy said.
“Ooh look there Hextilda, another one took his shirt off!” Aunt Burnie trilled excitedly as the hair on her head quivered even more while she wiggled around in excitement on her little pony’s back.
Ina smiled at her aunt’s delight. She gave a cursory glance back at the field to see the men showing off their chests as they stared after her. One in particular was flexing the muscles in his arms while smiling chee
kily at her. Ina rolled her eyes and looked away, letting her aunts enjoy the display of manhood. She was bored. Bored with all of it. Her sisters got their happily-ever-afters, so why hadn’t she?
She suddenly noticed a pair of little black eyes peering at her from under Aunt Hexy’s tartan.
“Aunt! Ye dinnae take Friseal’s rat did ye?” Ina said. Friseal was a friend of her sister Ceena. He was a big, huge man with a beard that took up much of his large belly. He kept his pet rat under the beard. Now and then you could spot him sneaking tidbits of food under that beard to feed his rat. He had helped save Tristan and Ceena and had become a dear friend of the family.
“Och of course not. I’ve got meself a wee little dog. If Friseal can carry a pet rat around I can certainly have a wee doggie,” Aunt Hexy said and reached under her tartan to stroke the tiny thing’s head.
Ina frowned. She didn’t see any fur on the animal. “Aunt, are ye sure that is a dog? May I see him? Where did ye find him?”
“Och, stuff and nonsense, of course it’s a dog! It’s just a wee one is all,” Aunt Hexy said without looking at Ina. “I found him…or her.” She waved her hand dismissively at Ina. Her eyes were still captivated by the men on the playing field.