Despite the biting cold, Corinne hunched as far forward as she could in the saddle, away from the heat that radiated from Mungo’s thick body.

She clutched the saddle’s pommel with hands that had long ago lost sensation. As they’d ridden though the outskirts of the village, Mungo had wrapped a heavy arm around her, preventing her from being able to yank down the gag. When he’d released his grip at last, she’d removed the gag, but he’d only snorted. “No’ a soul to hear ye scream anyway, wee one,” he’d muttered in her ear.

Darkness stretched all around them like a nightmare. Time seemed to bend and twist freakishly. The snow muffled their horses’ hoof falls, and the black trees surrounding them toyed with her mind. At every moment she thought she saw Reid’s shadow, or the silhouette of another soul who could help her. But inevitably the outlines would turn to drooping pines or bare-limbed oaks.

Part of her prayed that Reid would come for her, that even now he was running her captors to the ground, hunting them down just as he’d hunted her every time she’d tried to escape him.

Ye willnae defeat me.

His voice, low and rough, filled her mind.

Yield. I willnae fail.

Reid’s determination to see his mission through had been solid as stone. Back then, it had nigh crushed Corinne, for no matter how hard she struggled, how fiercely she fought, he could not be bested or deterred.

Deep in her heart, she knew that once he discovered her missing, he would use that same steely force of will to find her.

Yet that thought sent terror stabbing her chest, for he would be plowing right into a trap.

Mungo had made no effort to cover their tracks, despite the fact that the two horses left a clear trail through the snow. Flakes continued to fall softly, yet it would be hours—mayhap a full day—before their tracks were covered by the light snow. It only confirmed Corinne’s worst fear—they were baiting Reid. With her.

Sometime in the darkest hours of night, Mungo reined in his horse within a copse of pines. Gellis did the same, sagging in the saddle. No doubt the woman wasn’t used to such hard riding.

Gellis puffed a frosty breath. “Surely we can rest a moment.”

Mungo grunted. “Only as long as it takes the horses to drink.” He flicked a hand toward a stream that trickled through the trees, its banks lined with snow.

Mungo dismounted, then dragged Corinne after him. Her feet felt like blocks of ice, yet she managed to stay upright due to Mungo’s grip on her elbow.

“See to yer needs,” he said. “But try aught, and I willnae hesitate to mark yer bonny face.”

She swallowed, but then she forced herself to meet his beady eyes and stare him down defiantly.

He gave her a shove toward a large tree a few paces away, nearly sending her face-down into the snow. She stumbled toward the tree on wooden feet, holding her cloak tight around her.

If Mungo and Gellis hadn’t already made a clear path behind them, she could have dragged her boots through the snow, or broken a few branches as she made her way to the tree. But that only played into Mungo’s hand—and apparently into the MacVales’ plan.

Aye, they wanted Reid to follow them. But mayhap there was some way she could warn him, alert him that he was walking into a trap.

As she ducked behind the wide tree, an idea sparked then kindled to life. Out of Gellis and Mungo’s line of sight now, she dove her trembling, bound hands into the pocket of her cloak. Parchment crinkled against her fingers. She snatched the missive Gellis had given her—the one she’d used to lure Corinne away from the castle—from her cloak pocket.

But the missive itself wouldn’t be enough. Her gaze darted around, landing on naught but a blanket of snow at her feet and the thick tree behind her. As her eyes rested on the thick pine bark, another idea struck.

Her fingers burned with cold, but she forced them to pry free a chunk of bark. Then she crouched in the snow, turning the folded missive so that the blank side faced her.

Knowing her time was running out, she wracked her mind wildly. What could she say to warn Reid? She began to scratch the most important word onto the parchment with the piece of bark, praying it would be enough.

“Just a little longer,” Gellis pleaded a few paces away. Corinne’s heart leapt to her throat as she hastily finished the last letter.

“Quit yer whining,” Mungo snapped. “Else I’ll leave ye behind. Ye arenae needed for this plan.”

“Laird MacVale will skin ye alive if ye abandon me,” Gellis replied, though her voice wavered with uncertainty.

Mungo apparently ignored her, for suddenly she heard the crunch of his boots in the snow as he approached.

Blood roaring in her ears, she crumpled the missive and shoved the ball of parchment into the divot where she’d pried off the hunk of bark. She threw the piece of bark into the snow just as Mungo rounded the edge of the tree.

“What are ye about?” he demanded, grabbing her by the arm.

“Naught,” she cried as he dragged her out from behind the tree.

He eyed her for a moment, then without preamble, he backhanded her across the face. Stars exploded behind her eyes and she tasted blood in her mouth.

“I warned ye no’ to try aught.”

“I…I didn’t,” she breathed, her jaw aching and her lip burning where his knuckle had split it. Her mouth filling with the taste of metal, she bent and spat. The snow at her feet turned red with several drops of blood.

He grunted, but she couldn’t tell if she’d convinced him or not. When he pulled her toward his waiting horse rather than investigating the back side of the tree, she let a shaking breath go.

Gellis mounted slowly, grumbling as she did. Mungo lifted Corinne into the saddle and swung up behind her. As they set off again, Corinne fought against the pain and fear that threatened to turn her numb. If she gave over to her terror, to the throbbing in her face and the ache in her hands and feet, she would fail Reid. She had to be strong for him, to do everything she could to warn him.

The hours became a blur of snow and darkness and pain. At last, a gray dawn began to break behind the iron clouds overhead and the snow let up.

From the direction of the diffuse light, Corinne could tell they still rode north. They crossed an open expanse blanketed in white, but then when they reached a wide, forking river, Mungo reined in once more.

“Why are ye stopping?” Gellis demanded, her face pulled into a scowl.

“We need to ensure that the Mackenzies will take the bait,” Mungo snapped. “We’ll continue deeper into MacDonnell land, but then we’ll double back through the river to be sure they follow our tracks north.”

“Well, I’m resting then.” Gellis dismounted with a groan and hobbled toward the slow-moving river.

“Five minutes,” Mungo grumbled, dismounting as well.

Corinne’s thoughts whirled to life once more despite the deadening cold and exhaustion encasing her mind. “I have to relieve my bladder again,” she said as Mungo drew her down from the horse.

“Be quick about it,” he muttered, releasing her and pointing to a large boulder next to the river.

Corinne shuffled to the far side of the snow-dusted rock. As soon as she was out of sight, however, she forced her limbs to move faster. She didn’t have another piece of parchment to write on, so the ground would have to do.

She hastily scraped off the layer of snow covering the ground with her boot, then kicked away the loose rocks until she’d reached hard-packed dirt. Crouching, she grabbed one of the rocks in her bound hands and began scratching it against the frozen ground.

Her progress was painfully slow, with each line taking precious seconds as she struggled to mark the hard earth. An image of Reid being harmed or, God forbid, killed, kept her working furiously. She had to make sure he didn’t follow their tracks farther north, had to warn him who was behind this scheme.

As she moved on to yet another letter, Gellis and Mungo’s voices drifted to her.

“…have to waste time doubling back with her?” Gellis was saying, her tone sour. “If we are dumping her body anyway, why no’ just do it now and make haste back to MacVale land?”

Corinne sucked in a hard breath, the cold air stabbing her lungs. They didn’t just mean to kill her—they meant to leave her body out in this desolate, frozen landscape. Now.

The rock fell from her shaking hands. Her warning to Reid would mean little if she were already dead when he found her. She was out of time. She had to run.

Lifting her skirts and cloak, she bolted from behind the boulder, headed away from the river. A clump of trees lay in the distance. If she could run fast enough…if she could just reach them…

She heard the muted footfalls in the snow behind her a heartbeat before someone slammed into her, taking her down. The air whooshed painfully from her lungs as a heavy body landed on top of her, crushing her into the snow.

“What did I tell ye, bitch?” Mungo hissed, rising above her with a snarl on his thick features. He yanked the dagger from his boot and pressed the tip just below her eye, the cold blade flush against her cheek.

A scream rose in her throat as the pressure increased.

“Mungo!” Gellis shouted behind him. “No’ her face. The Mackenzie Laird needs to be able to recognize her.”

Though the blade eased slightly, sickness rose in Corinne’s throat. Oh God! Please, nay!

Then the dagger vanished completely and Mungo stood. “I’ve had enough of yer interference, whore,” he spat at Gellis. “I wasnae going to kill her yet, only scare her. And we cannae just dump her before we ensure that the Mackenzies will ride straight to the MacDonnell keep ready to go to war.”

He dragged Corinne’s crumpled body from the snow. “Then we can drop her anywhere we please on MacDonnell land. But if we dinnae do this right, Laird MacVale will have our heads.”

Gellis cast a glance around, though the landscape was bare and silent. “I dinnae like it,” she muttered, sparing a distasteful look at Corinne. “The longer she’s alive, the more that can go wrong.”

“Then quit yer pissing and moaning. Ye’re slowing me down.”

Gellis huffed, but she spun on her heels and made her way back to her waiting horse.

As Mungo strode to his own animal with Corinne in tow, he bent his head to her ear. “Try something foolish again and Gellis will have her way,” he rasped.

Corinne nodded numbly, too terrified to speak. She was safe for now, she told herself over and over. They still had to ride north, as Mungo had said, then back down through the river. She had a few more hours to live—that might be all.

Through the stomach-churning fear, she held on to one last hope. Reid would find her message. She had to believe that.

Otherwise all would be lost.