Page 106 of Enchantment of a Highlander

She worked her fingers through his thick fur, seeking the injury until she found the smear of blood where the tip of his ear had been shorn off.

The bit of skin would never grow back, but he would certainly live. Her grasp on him tightened, but still he did not growl or try to skitter away.

He nuzzled closer to her and his hearty sigh fluttered the hair against her neck, as if he were truly grateful for the affection.

And so they huddled together in the semi-darkness, waiting out the threat of danger.

• • •

Alec scanned the coastline once more, his eyes trained for anything out of the ordinary. The gray, angry sky cast a darkness over the low-lying brush and left the yellow and green terrain mixed in a blend of shadows.

“Do ye see anything?” Duncan asked at his side. The boy’s horse pranced nervously beneath him, doubtless feeding off his anxious mood.

Frustration tightened along his back and threaded into his brain. “Nothing.”

Even Saraid’s guards hadn’t been visible within the last hour.

The mission had thus far been unsuccessful.

“I dinna understand it,” Alec muttered.

Duncan leaned in his saddle. “What’d ye say?”

Alec sighed, deeply regretting having let the boy come along. He was in no damn mood to talk. Not when he knew Celia was somewhere on MacLean or MacDougall land with an army of men looking for her.

“I dinna understand how they found the cottage. It’s no like it’s a location easily stumbled upon.”

Quiet followed his statement.

The boy was never silent.

Something tingled along Alec’s spine. “Is there something ye need to tell me?”

Duncan’s cheeks flushed bright red. “Bessie had the baby stuck inside her. She’d been trying for two days to get it out.” He shook his head, eyes wide. “She was going to die.”

Alec narrowed his eyes and every muscle in his body tightened. “What does this have to do with Celia?”

The boy sank a little deeper in his saddle. “I went and got her to help Bessie.” The boy’s straight back did not waver and he met Alec’s hard glare. “I dinna mean to put her in danger, but I couldna let the woman suffer either. What would ye do if Celia had a babe stuck in her womb and faced death?”

Alec ground his teeth until his jaw ached. Celia was not Bessie. Celia was supposed to be in a cottage where she was safe.

He gave a low growl of frustration and looked away, his gaze once more finding the darkened landscape. “I havena seen MacDougall men for a while.”

Unease niggled his nerves. He glanced at Duncan and found the boy’s eyes squinting into the wind.

“Do ye feel it too?” Alec asked.

Duncan’s nostrils flared and the muscles at his thin neck stood out. He nodded.

It was all Alec needed. He snapped the reins of his horse to a full run and ice spiked his blood.

The pounding of hooves filled his ears—those of his own horse and Duncan’s behind him. Wind rushed against them and the damn rain started to pour down, but nothing would dissuade him from getting to Aros Castle. Not with the apprehension coiling in his gut.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Celia’s clothes hung heavy on her shoulders, soaked through with a mix of sea water and misting rain. Her back pressed against the closed door. She’d never been so grateful for the flimsy lock and solitude. She’d never been so grateful to be home.

Or what was home now.