Page 125 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

At last, he slowed the horse.

“Tomorrow, then.”

Relief surged through her so suddenly that her knees nearly weakened.

She forced herself not to show it.

“Aye,” she whispered.

Inside her, hope sparked.

Tomorrow was enough time. Callan doesnae drink much ale… he prefers whisky, and Gordon might nae have been at the feast tonight.

They would discover she was gone soon and find her before it was too late. And for the first time since Kerr had taken her, Ailis allowed herself one desperate thought.

Gordon, find me before tomorrow.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Gordon felt awful.

Not merely tired or troubled. Awful.

The feeling had followed him through the corridors all evening, settling heavily beneath his ribs as he tried to convince himself that he had made the right decision.

He wanted to believe he had. But the truth was that every thought brought his mind back to her, and whenever he thought he had convinced himself he did not need her, he remembered her all over again.

But I cannae need her.

He had told himself that enough times that he had almost begun to believe it. But the thought of her leaving MacLaren Castle still made something inside him ache.

Gordon had prepared the words he would say to Callan.

He would end the betrothal because Ailis deserved freedom. He had repeated those words in his head until he almost believed them. Then he remembered her laughter, bright and unrestrained, spilling through his halls and warming places he had once thought could never be warm.

He glanced around the keep now. Silence greeted him. No laughter drifted from the kitchens. No soft humming came from the gardens.

The emptiness pressed against his chest. He already missed her.

How can I return to this silence?

His jaw tightened as his desire cemented a strong hold inside him.

I cannae let her go.

Gordon stepped into the great hall while pondering his thoughts.

He stopped when he realized the hall was quiet even though it was full. The fire in the hearth had burned low. Cups remained scattered across tables. Men were slumped in their chairs, heads fallen against their chests.

Gordon crossed the room quickly, taking it all in as the first sliver of panic settled through him.

What has happened here?

He seized the shoulder of the nearest guard and shook him hard. “Wake up.”

Gordon pressed two fingers against the man’s neck when he did not respond. He felt a low pulse. It was slow but steady, and it proved the guard was alive.

Merely asleep.