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“The castle is in an uproar. We’ve been lookin’ for ye for hours. When ye didnae return before the storm hit, everyone started searchin’,” Nathan said.

The tone of his voice grated on Morgana’s nerves. It was almost as if she could sense he was lying to them.

“Dinnae lie,” Ryder snapped. “We both ken that everyone in the castle would be thrilled to see me six feet under. So, what is the real issue?”

“Felix, Tormod, and Ronnie have returned,” Nathan revealed, pulling the reins to keep his horse from getting too antsy.

“So soon?”

“They were attacked by bandits,” Nathan explained.

Panic and terror ripped through Morgana, almost driving her into the ground.

“My braithers…” The air grew thin, almost too thin for her to breathe. She tried gulping it in, but her lungs seized and refused to expand. “Are they…”

“They live if that is what troubles ye,” Nathan answered, much to her shock.

Relief shifted to gratitude that molded into a joy she couldn’t contain.

“I have to see them. We need to get back,” she said as she turned to Ryder.

A wicked grin stretched across his lips, before he cast a glance at the black stallion and fixed Nathan with a glare.

“We need yer horse,” he declared.

He stomped forward, grabbed Nathan by the arms, and pulled him from the saddle.

“Ye cannae leave me out here,” Nathan grumbled.

Ryder ignored him as he lifted Morgana into the saddle.

Heat coursed through her as she glared at Nathan. She tilted her head and studied the man for a moment. But before she could decipher his expression, Ryder slipped into the saddle behind her.

“There’s a mare runnin’ wild around here somewhere. I’m sure she’s scared out of her wits. But if ye find her, she’s yers,” he said as he steered the horse in the direction of the castle. “Consider it compensation for lettin’ us use yer horse.”

“My Laird, would it nae be best if I rode back and brought another horse? I could even take Lady McKenzie with me,” Nathan suggested, his eyes downcast.

“And have ye murder my wife and say it was an accident? Nay thank ye,” Ryder snarled.

“It wouldnae be anythin’ less than what she had done to yer faither,” Nathan argued.

Morgana shot him a glare, before they took off for the castle. “Are ye really goin’ to leave him out there?”

“And why should I nae? It seems he has a guardian angel always pullin’ him out of trouble. It’ll do him good to trudge back. Maybe it’ll stiffen his tongue so he’ll stop spreadin’ lies.”

23

Move, mule.

Irritation turned to ire as Ryder urged the horse to go faster. Time was slipping by too quickly. The castle felt like it was days away.

His chest tightened with anxiety as he thought of how bandits got the jump on three capable men. If it was just Ronnie, he would have overlooked it as a juvenile mistake. But since Felix and Tormod were both skilled fighters, it was clear that the whole thing was a setup to take one of them out.

Ryder clenched his jaw as the torches of the castle came up over the ridge like little beacons of hope, shining just for him. Though the horse was spent, Ryder forced it to gallop faster.

“Ryder, ye’ll break the horse—ye need to slow down.” Morgana’s voice carried over the wind and jabbed him directly in the chest. “I ken ye want to get to Felix just as much as I want to see Ronnie and Tormod, but if ye dinnae ease up on the horse, he’ll buckle.”

Pulling in a long, deep breath to steady his nerves, Ryder pulled the reins and looked toward the castle. His eyes widened with shock as he spotted Felix coming out of the door to greet them. There was no indication that the man had been attacked, save for the mark above his left eyebrow.