Chapter Thirty-One
For a single, horrifying moment, shock held Calum suspended in disbelief. That crushing final glimpse of Arabella’s pale face before she toppled over the edge flared in his mind as fury seared a hole in his gut. He launched himself at Longford, slamming the arse onto the hard rock floor. He hurled punch after punch, pummeling the cursed fiend’s face.
The sharp bite of a blade caught him beneath the arm, licking fire down his side, and he grunted. Longford pressed his advantage, tossing Calum off onto his back. Hovering over him, Longford thrust the dagger at his face. Calum grabbed his wrist, fighting to turn the weapon on the bastard. Back and forth, they rolled across the cavern floor near the cliff’s ledge, wrestling for control.
Too late, Fraser and Liam’s warning shouts filtered through the sounds of his and Longford’s struggles and the roaring drum in his chest. He kneed Longford in the thigh and attempted to fling him off, but the wretched cur snagged hold of Calum’s tunic, sending them both over the edge of the cliff.
By the sheer grace of God, Calum cleared the rocks jutting up from the waves and slammed into the frigid water, stomach first. The mind-numbing cold jolted his body, and he kicked for the surface. The sea’s current pitched him to and fro as swells crashed over his head. With no trace of Longford above the surf, Calum shifted his focus to saving Arabella.
Sucking in a deep breath, he dove beneath the white-capped water in search of his wife. Salt stung his eyes and the wound at his side. Heedless of the burn, he searched the gloomy depths, swinging his arms, hoping to snag on to something—anything—that would lead him to her.
Desperate for air, he surged to the agitated surface and emerged with a gasp. Cold air singed an icy trail from his throat down to his lungs, but determination goaded him onward. Frantically scanning between the crashing waves, he caught a glimmer of ruby and his heart leaped in his chest.
Arabella’s head dipped beneath the surface several yards away. Far too close for his peace of mind, a blond head bobbed above the water, moving closer to her.
Despite the encumbering cold, a wellspring of renewed strength hurtled through Calum’s weary body. Dragging in a deep pull of air, he lunged beneath the foaming surface and surged against the strong current. Mindless to the ache in his limbs, he kicked his legs with furious strokes, propelling himself forward. Arms extended in front of him, he stretched for Longford’s clothing, latching on and dragging the man beneath the waves, away from Arabella.
Each of them managed a glancing blow, but the sea absorbed the force, rendering their struggles useless. The steady roll of waves, coupled with the unforgiving current, pushed them deeper underwater. Longford lashed out with the dagger, grazing Calum’s forearm. Too soon, his starved lungs demanded air. He lifted his knees and thrust his feet into Longford’s stomach, shoving the bastard toward the sea bottom. Calum broke the surface gasping for breath.
He seized ahold of a nearby outcropping of stone and skimmed the waves until he found Arabella, who struggled to keep her head above the swells.
“Get to the rocks,” he bellowed over the crash of waves.
Longford burst from the depths and launched himself forward, but the push of the current shoved Calum aside just as the dagger nicked his shoulder. He kicked away from the protruding rocks and grabbed for Longford, gripping the fool by the throat. With his free hand, he crushed Longford’s cold hand wrapped around the dagger, grappling for control of the blade. Digging his fingers into Longford’s neck, Calum managed to extract the weapon from Longford’s hold.
Consumed with vengeance, Calum stared into the face of his enemy as an unquenchable wrath guided his actions. Treading the water, he constricted his clasp around Longford’s throat and slammed the bastard against the pile of stone, smashing his head on the jagged rock. Calum yanked a dazed Longford closer and wedged the sharp point of the blade beneath his chin.
“Rot in hell,” Calum spat.
Longford’s bloodshot eyes widened as Calum flexed his arm, thrusting the dagger through flesh and sinew. With a jerk upward, he embedded the blade to the hilt. Blood spilled from the wound, running over his hand, leaching into the push and pull of the current around him. He released his hold of Longford’s throat and watched as the sea swept the lifeless eyes of his enemy beneath the waves.
’Twas done. No one would threaten Arabella again.
Relinquishing his grip on the dagger, he spun in the water, searching for her over the rise and fall of the waves, where he’d last seen her fighting against the unrelenting current. With no sign of her red hair, dread swamped his short-lived relief, inflaming his alarm. Christ, the weight of her gown must’ve dragged her under.
Struck by a feverish panic, he inhaled a massive breath and dove into the water’s depths. Salt pricked his eyes, while the frigid water seeped into his bones, slowing him down. Despite the weariness in his aching limbs, he forced his body to withstand the punishing cold long enough to find her.
By the Saints, he had to.
Calum raked his fingers through swaying seaweed, swimming around rock formations as he searched the area over. The barest flutter of light fabric caught his eye, a sight he would’ve missed had the sun not chosen that moment to pierce the murky depths. Kicking wildly, he surged ahead and snagged the cloth, tugging Arabella’s motionless form toward him. He wrapped his arm around her middle and raced to the surface.
Ravenous for air, he panted to catch his breath, filling his greedy lungs. Arabella hung limp against his chest, her head lolled atop his shoulder. Fear clutched his chest and his vision blurred as he fought the roiling surf, desperate to reach the shore.
“Just a bit further, love. Hang on,” he croaked against her cold cheek.
The roar of the sea pounded in his ears, mocking his struggles. As soon as his feet touched the rocky seafloor, he lifted her motionless body in his arms, trudging through the heavy push and pull of the current. He slipped on the unsteady rocks and a shout of frustration tore from his throat. With the last of his strength, he strained to rise to his feet, but failed, dropping them both into the swelling tide once more.
Suddenly, the weight of Arabella vanished from his grasp and strong arms tugged him above water, dragging him onto shore. His bearings lost in the sea, Calum thrashed against the hold, unwilling to let her go.
“Damn it! Cease your nonsense, boy,” Fraser growled within an inch of his face.
Dropped on his back on the pebbled shore, Calum sucked in breath after breath. He blinked to clear his cloudy vision. Tremors racked his frame and his teeth chattered. Fraser and Patrick hauled him into a sitting position, stripped off his sodden tunic, and wrapped him in warm furs.
Clearing his raw throat, he reached for Fraser’s wrist and rasped, “Arabella?”
Brows furrowed, Fraser stared down at him. Marked concern darkened his solemn gaze. After a hesitant moment, the older man nodded at Patrick, and they lifted Calum onto his sore, unsteady legs. All but carrying him a few yards across the beach, they deposited Calum on his knees beside Arabella’s prone body.
His worried cousin hovered on her opposite side, clearing wet strands of hair from her face and neck.
Calum fought the quake in his frame to say, “Turn her on her side. Thump her back.”
Liam pushed her sideways toward Calum and did as requested.
He searched her stark white features, anxious for any sign of life. His cousin continued to beat her back in earnest, but naught. She lay cold and unmoving.
Immediate grief crashed over Calum like the sea’s cursed waves, sucking him deeper into fathomless despair. Agony dug in his chest, hollowing a hole straight to his heart, and struck with a fierce stab. The love of his life was slipping away right before his eyes. ’Twas a fate he would not accept.
Ceasing his efforts, Liam sank back on his heels. “Calum…”
“Nay!” Unwilling to give up, he bolted to his knees and shoved Liam aside. He pounded Arabella’s back. Thump after thump, he willed her to open her eyes—to breathe. To live.
Fraser grabbed his shoulders. “Lad—”
“Let him try.” Liam waved Fraser away.
Men stood around them in silence, their troubled gazes watching the scene unfold, but Calum scarcely heeded their presence. His sole focus was Arabella. Moisture scalded his cold cheeks as he gripped her face between his hands. “Breathe, damn you,” he ordered. “You cannot leave me. Not now. Not ever.”
As if on command, her slight frame jolted and water gushed from her mouth, followed by a series of bone-jarring coughs. Between gasps of air, she clawed at his thigh as she heaved the water from her lungs. Uncaring of who bore witness, when Arabella shifted onto her back and her bleary, emerald gaze found his, Calum wept tears of joy.