Page 66 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
Suddenly, the room felt tight, the walls closing in on her. Morgana was in danger, and Feya was standing here, hoping someone else would save her. For weeks, Feya had stayed away, protecting herself instead of fighting for her family. She had carried the guilt of that choice the entire time she was at Castle Dougal.
And what if something happens to Morgana now? How long will that haunt ye?
Feya launched herself toward the door, reaching with both hands for the doorknob. But Archer was too fast. He scooped her up and pulled her backward, lifting her feet off the ground.
“Let me go,” she cried. She squirmed in his arms, but Archer held her tight.
“Ye cannae leave,” he told her. “Ye will only make things worse. If Cohen or his men see ye, we’ll have more than one lass to save. Ye must trust her husband—he’ll find her.”
She turned in his arms and pushed her hands against his chest. Of course, he didn’t budge, no matter how hard Feya pushed against him. Tears continued to run down her face as she hit him, fighting against her captivity and the helplessness she felt to see her sister wasn’t safe.
Archer gripped her arms and pulled her body into him, wrapping his arms tight around her back. Feya’s face pressed into his chest, and she breathed in the scent of leather and pine that seemed to cling to Archer’s skin. It comforted her, and she suddenly collapsed against him, releasing into sobs. She cried in his arms, letting out all of her fears and worries for her family, her sense of responsibility.
“It’s alright, lass,” he whispered. Archer brought his hand to the back of her head and stroked her hair. “It’s alright.”
31
“Morgana?” Feya hardly dared believe it. There, standing in front of Castle McKenzie, was the familiar form of her sister. She was wrapped in Ryder McKenzie’s arms, seemingly lost in his gaze, but Feya couldn’t hold back any longer. She had waited too long to see her family.
“Feya!” Morgana gasped as she peered around the shoulder of her husband.
A moment later, they were racing toward each other. Feya let the adrenaline carry her forward as she wrapped her sister in her arms. Relief flooded her body as she held Morgana, finally satisfied she was safe.
They both spoke quickly, the words tumbling out of each other. Somewhere in the background, Feya watched Ryder McKenzie slip away, leaving the siblings some privacy. Archer stood behind her at a distance, silently keeping watch as the women held hands and updated each other on their lives. Theyalternated between stories, letting fragments pour out of them until they had some semblance of understanding about the past few weeks.
“I tried, Morgana,” Feya cried out, unable to hold back her guilt any longer. “I tried to get back to ye. I tried to get here, I swear it.”
“Easy,” Morgana coaxed. She put a hand on her sister’s cheek, comforting her in the same way she used to when they were children. “Ye had to protect yourself. I dinnae blame ye for anythin’ that happened. Come now, let’s go inside and we can talk further.”
Morgana linked her arm in Feya’s and led her into the castle. Feya knew there was more to say. There was the story of Cohen Hughes and his murder, the time she had spent at Castle Dougal. And something else…or should she say,someone?Feya didn’t miss Morgana’s interested gaze as they walked past the large, dark figure of Archer Brown standing in the doorway.
But there was no time to explain Archer’s presence or the color that came to Feya’s cheeks when she looked at him. As soon as Morgana and Feya were inside, their siblings descended, wrapping them in hugs and pulling them into the sitting room. Feya was overwhelmed with the joy and the noise of her family, something she had nearly forgotten about.
“We have so much to tell ye,” Poppy said, grabbing Feya by the hand and pulling her into the room. She allowed herself to be guided by the twins, feeling a pressure in her chest as sherealized they had grown. She glanced at Tormond and Ronnie, shocked to see her younger brothers looked more like men than boys. They stood nearby, nodding at her, surpressing their boyish urge to wrap their sisters in their arms.
“Alright, I’m coming,” Feya laughed, feeling her arm nearly pulled from her socket. She pushed away her sadness at the changes she saw in her siblings. She was here now, and that’s all that mattered.
Here because of him.
Feya looked over her shoulder, remembering Archer. But as she glanced to the doorway, she only caught a shadow of him. He had done exactly as he promised: returned her safely to her family. And now that the task was done, he silently disappeared.
It’s finished. Ye upheld your side of the bargain. Now it’s time to go home.
He didn’t sleep all night, simply tossed and turned in a state somewhere between sleep and waking. Haunting thoughts of war came to him, but then more troubling dreams. He imagined Feya being taken, some cloaked figure snatching her directly from her bed. He knew these thoughts were brought on by Morgana’s capture, but that didn’t make him feel any better.
Cohen Hughes was no longer a threat. Ryder McKenzie had taken care of that. But what about Cohen’s men? Were there others who were loyal to him, people that Ryder didn’t know about?
That’s not your problem anymore. Ye cannae protect her forever.
Oh, but he wanted to. The very thought of leaving Feya alone in someone else’s care was eating him up inside. His chest grew tight when he thought about it, and he wondered how he would ever think of anything except her well-being.
But Archer had a clan to run. And he couldn’t lead them from Ryder McKenzie’s castle. No matter how much he wanted Feya by his side, it was time to come to terms with the fact that she was staying here.
He kicked the blankets off of him and rolled out of bed, unable to take it any longer. The family had planned a final breakfast, a way to thank Archer for his kindness and protection of Feya. They were going to eat together before they sent Archer on his way. But when he imagined sitting there, smiling over his porridge as he was forced to look into Feya’s green eyes, it felt akin to torture.
He would leave now. Sneak out before anyone saw him. It was for the best.
Archer pulled on his clothes and gathered his things, tossing water on his face and running his hands through his hair. Thenhe slipped out of the door to his bedchamber and turned down the hallway, eager to leave the cold walls of this castle and feel the early-morning chill on his face.
