Page 88 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander
Lily needed her.
When she reached the door to Lily’s room, a cold dread settled over her. The door was ajar, swinging slightly on its hinges.
“Lily?” she called out, her voice trembling.
There was no response.
Erica stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room with growing panic. The bed was empty, the covers thrown back as if Lily had left in a hurry—or been taken. The toys scattered across the floor looked undisturbed, their cheerful colors a sharp contrast to the ominous stillness.
Her gaze landed on the window, which was wide open, the curtains billowing in the night breeze.
“Nay,” she whispered, a cold chill running down her spine. “Nay, nay, nay.”
She turned on her heel and dashed into the hallway, her heart hammering against her ribs. That was when she saw him—Calvin, slumped against the wall a few paces from the door. His head lolled to the side, blood trickling from a gash in his temple.
“Calvin!” Erica cried, dropping to her knees beside him. She shook his shoulder, her fingers gripping his tunic. “Calvin, wake up!”
He groaned softly, his eyelids fluttering but not opening. She scanned him for injuries, her hands trembling as she felt the sticky warmth of blood on his side. The wound wasn’t deep, she thought, but it was enough to leave him incapacitated.
“Please, wake up,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
Calvin stirred slightly, his lips moving as if to speak. She leaned in close, desperate to catch his words.
“Gone…” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “They… took her.”
Erica’s stomach sank, her blood turning to ice. Her mind raced, panic clawing at her throat.
Lily was gone. Someone had taken her right from under their noses.
“Who?” she demanded, gripping his tunic tighter. “Who took her?”
But Calvin’s head lolled again, his strength leaving him.
Erica sat back on her heels, her chest heaving as she tried to think. She couldn’t stay here. She had to find Lily.
The sounds of fighting down the corridor grew louder, and she realized with sickening clarity that this attack had been a diversion. Whoever had taken Lily had used the chaos to cover their tracks.
She stood up, brushing her hands over her skirts as she forced herself to focus. She couldn’t let fear paralyze her. She had to act.
She hurried back into Lily’s room, her eyes scanning for any clue, any sign of where they might have gone. Her gaze landedon the window again, and she moved toward it, leaning out into the night air. The drop below was too steep for a child, but a rope hung from the ledge, swaying gently in the breeze.
“They went this way,” Erica murmured to herself, her mind racing.
She turned back toward the door, clenching her hands into fists. She needed to find Hunter. He would know what to do. But she also knew she couldn’t waste time. If she waited too long, they might lose any chance of catching up to Lily’s captors.
She hurried down the hall, her steps quick and purposeful. The guards she passed tried to stop her, but she brushed them off with a sharp command.
“Tell the Laird that his niece has been taken,” she ordered one of them. “And tell him I’m goin’ after her.”
“Aye, Lady MacKinnon,” the man said quickly. He looked stunned, but then he immediately broke into a run in the opposite direction.
Erica continued toward the main hall, her mind a whirlwind of fear and determination.
I will find Lily. And heaven help the men who had taken her when I do.
25
Hunter stood on the battlefield outside the castle, the aftermath of the skirmish still ringing in his ears. The air was thick with the scent of blood and sweat, and the clash of steel had been replaced by the groans of the injured and dying.
