The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

If she ran, he would chase her. If she climbed the tree, he would climb it too. If she ran into the river, he would swim after her.

Run. Weave. Scream.

Indecision would get her killed.

Out of the grove came a sound more terrifying than the bear’s, and Erik appeared, yelling, “Tyr,” and wielding his ax. The bear jerked and lunged for Erik. He slashed the bear again and again. Undeterred, the bear grabbed him in a hug, shaking him until Erik dropped the ax. But that didn’t leave him defenseless. He had a single-edged knife that he used to jab the bear in the side—again and again.

When they moved away from the ax, she picked it up. She wasn’t a weakling, but even with two hands, she couldn’t swing the steel blade with enough force to cause much damage. She swung it against the bear’s legs, but she only nicked him, and the bear scarcely reacted.

That pissed her off. She was holding a deadly weapon that could kill the monster if only she was strong enough. If she was the son her father always wanted, she’d be able to kill the goddamn bear.

Erik was a large man, slightly broader than Tavis, and each arm probably weighed as much as the ax. But compared to the bear, the difference was as stark as her standing next to Austin.

Erik continued jabbing the knife into the bear’s side, and the bear growled, becoming more aggressive, and finally swatted away the blade just as he had the ax.

Approaching a full-blown panic, she searched the ground for a weapon, for inspiration, for something—anything—she could use to stop the bear before it killed Erik too.

Erik was buried deep in the bear’s thick fur. He reached up and latched his arms around the bear’s neck, squeezing with huge hands, but to little effect.

I have to do something. I can’t let the bear kill him too.

She grunted, adrenaline surging, and she raised the ax again. Her hip screamed, and her leg buckled, but she straightened quickly against the sharp pain, and with all her might, she swung it against the bear’s back. The bear stumbled, but the strike didn’t stop it from clawing Erik’s flesh, rending it with deep, bloody gouges. Her muscles shook from strain, but she had to strike again.

The bear tried to shake Erik loose, swinging him back and forth, but Erik held on. Grunting, she raised the ax, her muscles quivering, and she wielded it again, slashing the bear near the first strike. The squealing bear lost its balance and fell, trapping Erik beneath his several hundred-pound mass of claws, teeth, and muscle.

Hit him again.

The coppery smell of blood, the human screams, and animal growls, the earthy stink of the churned, moldy dirt at the bank created chaos and roiled her stomach.

Don’t get sick now. Fight!

She lifted the ax, her muscles screaming, barely able to hold on. She was demanding more than her body could give, and she wasn’t sure her hip would hold up if she strained it again, but she couldn’t stop trying. She must do everything she could for Erik, no matter what it cost her.

This time she had to strike down instead of swinging to the side, and she barely got the ax lifted with shaking arms when a horse galloped into the clearing.

“Run, Ensley!” Austin roared as he grabbed his rifle and leaped off his horse without a hitch, pause, or wasted movement. “Run!”

His shouting penetrated her tunnel vision, and she ran, not toward safety but to Austin’s warhorse.

Austin balanced, squared his shoulders with the target, braced the rifle buttstock close to this right shoulder, pressed his cheek firmly against the stock, and fired. There was a pop and then a loud crack.

Ensley used her remaining strength to pull herself up into the saddle. She would spur Austin’s horse and charge the bear if she had to.

Austin quickly got off another round, hitting the bear in the heart and lung area. He cocked the rifle a third time, moved slightly to adjust to the bear’s jerking, and got off two more rounds.

The thrashing and bellowing quieted as the bear fell and rolled over onto its back—dead.

The grizzly had mauled and bitten chunks out of Erik’s shoulders and neck, leaving him bloodied and shredded beyond recognition. If not for his blue tattoos, she wouldn’t have known him. She dismounted and dropped to the ground at his side, ignoring the blood, shredded skin, and exposed muscle and bone.

She found a faint pulse in his wrist and yelled to Austin, “He’s still alive. Find Remy.”

Austin fired one more shot between the bear’s eyes, then mounted his warhorse and rode off, leaving her with the dying Viking and her beloved horse.

“You can’t die,” she pleaded. “Fight for your life the way you fought the bear.” Then she remembered his red cloak. It had healing powers. “Where’s your cloak? It’ll heal you.”

He opened his eyes, and the irises were the most beautiful shade of Artic blue she’d ever seen. “It’s too late, Ensley. Tell Tavis to take me home. I must go back.”

Ravens cawed overhead, and the wind sighed through the pines and cottonwoods. And she had to wonder if the wind was trying to get her attention or had something important to tell her.

“Will you heal there?”

“My time is done. It’s time for my heir to take the empty seat at the table.”

She didn’t know what he was talking about. “You’re not going to die. We’ll take you home. The doctors can save you. Hold on just a little bit longer.”

He coughed, and blood spilled out of his mouth. “I must go home, and the horse must go with me.”

“Tesoro is dead.”

“He will live again.”

Her sobbing seesawed between hyperventilating gasps. “No! Don’t go. Please.”

“You have been brave…and resourceful,” he said, his entire body trembling. “I’m proud of you. I…didn’t know if…you had it”—he patted his chest—“in here. You do… Don’t ever doubt yourself. The Keeper…will need your skills…for the coming…battle. Train