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His hand shot out, his fingers curling around Nathan’s neck like the talons of a vulture. With sheer brute force, he forced Nathan into a bow.

“That is Lady McKenzie, and she will be respected as her title demands, is that clear? Ye’ll nae so much as look at her the wrong way, or else I’ll see ye put in the stocks for a month, and I’ll strip ye of whatever lands my faither gifted ye. Do I make myself clear?”

“Aye,” Nathan answered through gritted teeth. Ryder’s grip tightened on the man’s neck, his nails digging into his skin. “I understand yer wishes, My Laird.”

“Ye’ll nae lay a hand on my wife,” Ryder added, before releasing him.

Nathan stumbled forward as murmurs of shock and surprise rippled through the crowd.

Ryder scanned the faces around him, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Morgana?” he boomed over the music.

His gaze fell on Cohen, who lifted a finger and indicated the direction his wife went.

Without another word, Ryder made a beeline for the castle, leaving the wedding feast in a flurry of rage and irritation.

“I will see ye again,” he overheard Morgana say.

The sound of her voice was like an angel’s touch. It was far too soothing and comforting. Regret jabbed at him as he lurked in the shadows. He hated the fact that her family was splitting up, and watching them say their goodbyes made his heart ache.

“I dinnae trust him,” Tormod muttered in a skeptical tone that grated on Ryder’s nerves.

But he held back, lurking around the bushes as he watched Morgana lean closer and pull her brother into her arms.

“That’s neither here nor there. He is my husband now,” she declared as she pulled away. “I will honor him as such. And ye shall too.”

“Can ye really trust that he’ll keep Poppy and Eloise safe here?” Tormod asked, craning his neck to look around her.

For a moment, Ryder thought that the lad had spotted him.

But as he was about to step out of the shadows, Morgana interjected, “I dinnae want the twins to be in yer way if ye have to go somewhere they cannae follow. Besides, Ronnie will be here as well. The only one I’m concerned about right now is Feya. Ye must find her.”

Ryder’s breath caught as more questions popped into his head.

Who was Feya? What relation did she have with Morgana? Who exactly had he just married?

“I will. I swear to ye, I’ll find our sister,” Tormod vowed as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Morgana’s forehead. “Take care of yerself, Sister. I will pray for yer safety.”

“And I will for yers. Godspeed,” Morgana returned.

Ryder watched her wipe tears from her eyes as Tormod disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

“There ye are,” he huffed as he stepped out of his hiding place. “I have been lookin’ for ye.”

“Here I am, My Laird.”

“Please, dinnae do that,” Ryder said, shaking his head. “Yer condescending tone willnae win ye any favors.”

“Favors? Such as?” Morgana asked as he took her by the arm.

“Did I nae let yer family join us for this joyous event?” Ryder reminded her.

He knew his tone was snarky, but there was nothing he could do to quell his tongue.

“Only to have me push my braither out the door before the first blessin’, and I havenae even seen the others,” Morgana grumbled.

She had a point. Ryder had been hasty, but he wasn’t about to let Nathan get away with disrespecting her.