Page 117 of Bound to the Heartless Duke
His sleep had always been light, always like a soldier’s rest. But this time, it felt different. When he woke up and saw Lily sleeping beside him, he understood why. Her cheek was pillowed on his arm, her hair spilling across his bare chest like a waterfall.
For a moment, he simply looked at her. The faint rise and fall of her chest. The way her fingers curled lightly into the sheet, as though grasping at something in a dream.
He couldn’t believe how beautiful she was even with her lips bruised from his kisses and her hair mussed from sleep. It felt too good, much better than anything he deserved to wake up with her in his arms and that thought had a grim feeling taking over him.
He exhaled slowly before pressing a kiss to her forehead and climbing out of bed.
He dressed quickly after his bath, fastening the last button of his shirt stepping into the corridor.
The inn was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt almost tense. He could hear the floorboards creaking beneath his boots.
His plan was to check the safety of the horse, ensure the tack was ready for an early departure. But halfway down the corridor, a certain movement caught his eye.
A tall, lean figure stood at the far end. The man turned.
Magnus paused as sharp, cold recognition dawned on him.
“Nathan,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
Nathan had seen him too, and the shock on his face mirrored his before it was replaced with fear.
“Lily!” Magnus called, his voice echoing down the corridor.
At the mention of his sister’s name, Nathan turned on his heel and bolted.
Without hesitation, Magnus lunged forward, his boots pounding against the wooden floorboards. He gained speed with the singular focus of a predator chasing its prey.
Nathan pushed open a side door and burst out into the morning, the world already washed with the pale gold of early sunlight. Magnus followed, the cold air hitting him like a slap, instantly stirring his blood.
A stable boy stumbled backward as the two men ran, hens scattering in a flurry of cucks and feathers.
Nathan dashed toward the stables, but Magnus was faster. Years of riding, fencing, and soldiering had honed him into a man who did not waste breath or movement.
Still, the chase was not without cost; his lungs burned, his breathing was harsh, the stitch of exertion pulling beneath his ribs.
Eventually, Magnus caught him, one hand fisting in Nathan’s collar, the other slamming him hard against the wall.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he bit out, his voice vibrating with fury.
Nathan’s breath came in quick, sharp bursts. “I-I was leaving. For the Continent. I have debts, Magnus. Debts that?—”
Magnus’s hand twisted in the fabric of his coat, dragging him closer until there was barely an inch between them. “Do you know what happened to your sister?”
The flicker of guilt in Nathan’s eyes was answer enough. “I heard about the… kidnapping. And that’s when I?—”
“You ran,” Magnus interrupted, his fist landing on the man’s jaw before he finished.
The blow sent Nathan sprawling to the ground.
Trying his best to hold onto his self-restraint, Magnus stepped back, his chest rising and falling.
Nathan groaned from below, rolling onto one elbow as he spat blood into the dirt. But then, as though survival itself had set fire to his nerves, he jumped to his feet. He darted past Magnus and, with all desperation, moved to the nearest stall.
A startled mare neighed as he climbed bareback onto her. With a sharp kick, he sent her running forward, out into the blinding morning light.
Magnus watched them tear away from the inn, clenching his jaw as Nathan’s figure disappeared into the distance.
He took two steps forward and then stopped himself. It would be useless to chase Nathan on foot. His only chance was to mount his horse and race after him.
