Bree stared out the window. She’d been standing here for what seemed an age, hoping to catch some glimpse of him. Outside in the bailey life went on as normal with people going about their tasks as if nothing had happened.

How can you? she wanted to scream at them. How can you just carry on? Don’t you know that Alex is gone?

It felt like there was a hollow pit in her stomach. She kept expecting him to walk into the room or grab her for a kiss as she rounded a corner in the castle or call her name from across the yard. But of course, he didn’t.

When he’d strode out of the great hall that afternoon, she’d watched in stunned silence for a moment, too shocked to move, but had then gone running after him.

She’d only gotten as far as the door. Two of Merith’s guards had blocked the way. Bree had shouted at them to move, desperate to speak to Alex, to somehow make this right, but they had been unmoved. In the end Alex’s father, Ewan, had gently taken her arm and he and Gretchen had escorted her back to her room.

“You will wear a hole in the glass if you stare at it much longer,” Gretchen said from behind her.

Bree turned. Gretchen was sitting on the edge of Bree’s bed. Her skin was pale and her eyes red-rimmed as though she’d been crying.

“Where do you think he is?” Bree asked.

“I don’t know,” Gretchen replied. “Far away from here I hope. Safe.” She pounded the bed with her fist. “This is all my fault. I should never have brought him up to the castle. What was I thinking?”

“You couldn’t have known how Merith would react.”

“No, but I could have taken a good guess. Merith is a strong leader and that strength is based on her toughness. Once a decision is made she never goes back on it. I thought...hoped...the years might have mellowed her views on my son. Perhaps they would have if not for Donald god-damned Sinclair and his thugs. They’ve ruined everything!”

“You don’t believe Alex had anything to do with that raid on the village do you?”

“Of course not. But I’m his mother and you’re....a friend. Merith thinks we’re blinded by our affection for him. All she sees is a threat to her clan—and that she won’t abide. She has a responsibility to ensure everyone is safe. In her eyes Alex was threatening that.”

Bree watched Gretchen for a moment. Her reasoning did nothing to ease the ache in Bree’s heart. She felt Alex’s absence like a physical wound. How had she gotten so dependant on his presence so quickly? It was like a cloud had gone over the sun since he left. Everything seemed hollow.

“I miss him.”

“So do I.” She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “But we’ll be leaving to go see Irene soon. After that you’ll be home.”

Bree forced a smile of her own. “Sure.”

Gretchen stood with a sigh. “I’d better get back to Ewan. No doubt he’s arguing with Merith again. Alex inherited his father’s temper. If he hadn’t we might not be in this mess in the first place. Will you be okay?”

Bree nodded. “Of course. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Gretchen squeezed her arm and then left. Bree turned back to staring out the window. Merith had forbidden her to leave the castle and the guards on the gate would not let her pass. Merith, it seemed, had suspicions that Bree herself was involved in this plot she was so convinced Alex had planned. It was only Gretchen’s assurances that she was in fact American and from the future that had stopped Merith throwing her into a cell.

Bree had acquiesced to Merith’s orders, realizing there was no way around them. For now. But she watched and she waited, counting the number of guards, when they changed shifts and the route they took when they circled the battlements.

When it started to get dark Bree made her move. All evening she’d sat and thought, trying to figure out where Alex might go and now she thought she knew. She threw a cloak around her shoulders and pulled up the hood then stuck her head out of the door to check the coast was clear and hurried down the corridor towards the rear of the keep. Here she found a narrow set of stairs that the servants used which led to a small entry area with three doors leading off, one to the kitchen, one to the laundry, and one to the courtyard outside. As quietly as possible Bree slipped outside.

Torches were being lit along the walls so Bree was careful to keep to the shadows as she edged along the wall towards the gates. Peeking out from behind a pile of crates Bree saw that the gate guards were stood around chatting and sipping on steaming tankards of something. Good. If they were distracted so much the better.

A group of workmen came round the side of the castle. They went into a shed to unload their tools and then made their way towards the gates. Bree slipped from her hiding place and joined them, mingling in at the back. They didn’t even notice her. The guards gave barely a glance to the group of workers as they made their way through the gates and onto the path that led to the village.

Bree glanced behind, expecting to hear someone call her back or footsteps follow her but there was nothing. She breathed a sigh of relief, followed the workers as far as the village before crossing the bridge and following the track up the hill into dense woodland.

Her heartbeat quickened a little. Alex, she thought. I’m coming.

***

Alex stared into the flames. Thoughts flashed through his head like quicksilver, so fleeting he could barely catch them. But one thought stood out.

He’d lost Bree. He’d lost his family. Lord help him, he’d lost everything.

His stomach clenched, dread pooling inside like acid.

Ye are a cursed fool, he told himself for the umpteenth time. Ye should never have let yer guard down. Ye should never have believed ye could have what ye wanted. Ye dinna deserve it. Ye dinna deserve her.

A log rolled out of the fire and he poked it back in with the toe of his boot. The firelight cast dancing shadows on the walls of the ruined farmhouse, making it seem as if he was surrounded by ghouls and devils.

He smiled wryly at the irony. That was just about right.

Grabbing his water skin he took a big gulp. Lord, but he wished it was full of ale. Or better yet, whisky. Drinking himself into oblivion sounded about perfect right now. His uncle Connail and Isabelle, the cook, had seen that he was provided with enough supplies to last him a few days before he’d saddled up Shadow and ridden through the gates of Dun Carrick. He’d not been able to resist the urge to look over his shoulder as he rode through the gates but there was nobody watching his departure. Why would they? He was no hero riding off to war. He was an outcast, the shame of his clan. 

At first he’d had no destination in mind. He couldn’t return to Lord Donald, that much was clear. He’d burned that bridge the moment he’d freed Bree and helped her escape his castle. So he’d just wandered, letting Shadow meander along a path as he willed, as long as it was taking him away from Dun Carrick. It was only when Shadow had stuttered to a halt, lifted his head and whinnied that Alex had looked up from his stupor.

The ruined Murray farmhouse had met his gaze. Somehow he’d been unconsciously guiding Shadow here and it was as good a place as any to make camp, he supposed. So he’d thrown down his gear, seen to Shadow, and built a fire inside the old building.

The sound of movement came from outside. Alex lifted his head, suddenly alert. He went very still, listening. There it was again, the unmistakable sound of footsteps through vegetation. Silently he lifted his sword and pressed himself flat against the wall by the window. Cautiously, he peered out.

At first he saw nothing. Staring into the fire had night-blinded him and he berated himself for being so careless. But eventually his sight adjusted and he made out the shadows of the trees in the surrounding clearing. He waited, holding his breath, fingers gripping the hilt of his sword.

Something moved in the trees, a deeper shadow in the darkness, then a figure stepped into the clearing. It was cloaked and hooded but a telltale strand of dark-red hair escaping sent his heart pounding.

No. It couldn’t be. He must be dreaming.

The figure halted in the clearing. She must have spotted the firelight and was deciding what to do next.

“Alex?” came a familiar voice. “Are you there?” There was a tremor to her voice, betraying her fear.

What was she thinking coming out here alone? Didn’t she realize how dangerous it was? There might be brigands or worse about.

He stepped out to meet her and her eyes snapped up to his. For an instant fear flashed across her face, quickly replaced by relief and then something else. Something that made his pulse quicken and heat to flash through him. Desire? Longing? He couldn’t tell.

She halted an arm’s length from him. The firelight barely reached this far, throwing only the faintest of illumination onto Bree, but Lord, did she look beautiful. Her hair glowed like the dying embers of a fire and tiny flames danced in her eyes.

Neither spoke for a moment and it was all Alex could do not to reach out and touch her to check she was real.

“What are you doing here?” he said at last. His voice came out rougher than he intended. “It’s dangerous to be walking the woods at night. Have ye lost yer mind?”

“I realize that. I’m not sure what I was thinking,” she replied, looking around at the darkened woods with a shudder. “I thought you might come here. I had to see you.”

He shifted closer. He longed to run his hands through that flame-colored hair, to feel her creamy skin beneath his fingers.

“Why?” he whispered. “Why did ye want to see me?”

She gazed at him, her eyes large and round, shining with emotion. “You know why,” she whispered at last.

There was a world of implications in that last statement. The urge to touch her was so overwhelming Alex’s muscles quivered but he forced himself not to move. “Ye shouldnae be here. It’s nay safe.”

“Then tell me to go,” she replied. “Tell me you don’t want me here.”

A light breeze blew through the clearing, lifting the ends of Bree’s hair, sending it swirling around her head. It felt like a caress against Alex’s skin.

Ye will bring back something very precious, Irene MacAskill had said to him all those weeks ago.

And he had. He’d brought back the woman standing in front of him now. She was more precious to Alex than anything.

“I canna tell ye that,” he whispered. “Because it would make me a liar. I want ye, Breanne Martin. I want ye more than anything in my life. I love ye. Lord help me, lass. I love ye.”

***

Bree froze. Her heart seemed to stop. Goosebumps rode up her skin and she could barely breathe all of a sudden. Had she heard right? Had he really just said what she thought he had?

Alex was staring at her in that way of his. That way that sent all of her thoughts spinning out of her head and her heartbeat pounding in her ears. God help her, how she wanted to tangle her hands in that golden hair of his and hold him close. Hold him like she would never let him go.

It felt as though she was in a dream as she stepped close and rested her hand lightly on his arm. The breeze picked up, sending his hair swirling around him. He looked like some warrior of old, something plucked out of an Ancient Greek legend or a Norse saga. He was wild and powerful and raw.

And he loved her. Oh god, he loved her.

“I love you too” she said, her voice cracking on the words. “I think I loved you from the moment I met you.” She ran her hand up his arm. “Oh, my Alex.”

His eyes lit up, a bright smile creasing his mouth. His hand caught hers and squeezed it tight. Then he stepped forward, caught her face in his hands and kissed her with a passion that sent her heart hammering against her ribs. His lips so warm and soft, were insistent against hers, demanding her compliance. Bree gave it.

With a groan she opened her mouth, inviting his tongue inside. Their lips molded to each other’s, their kiss deepened, became wilder, more dangerous.

Bree tangled her fingers in his luscious hair just as his arms snaked around her back, yanking her hard against him. A desire, hot and deep, took hold of her, driving away all thought until her world consisted of Alex, only Alex and her need for him.

With a growl he lifted her and carried her into the house, laying her down on a bedroll by the fire and then coming down atop her. His hands explored her body whilst his lips explored her mouth. Bree gripped his tunic and yanked it savagely over his head, tossing it away impatiently. She wanted nothing between them. Nothing at all.

She took a second to admire the way the firelight accentuated the contours of his rippling muscle before she was kissing him again, her fingers tracing the scars on his back. Alex’s kisses moved down her neck, his teeth nipping her skin. Bree gasped and arched her neck as a wave of adrenaline pumped through her. Alex’s fingers found her breast, sneaking under the neckline of her dress to cup one soft mound. The hard pad of his thumb swept across her nipple which hardened under his touch.

Oh god, this was too much. Her body was on fire. Every nerve seemed to tingle.

“Alex,” she murmured, the only word she seemed able to frame. “Alex.”

His kisses moved lower, across the join of her shoulder and neck and then down her chest to her cleavage, his tongue tracing lines of fire across her flesh. There was an ache deep inside her now, an all-consuming need, and she had to feed it. Her hands fumbled across Alex’s body, her palms sweeping the dips and ridges in his muscled back, tracing the lines of his tight, hard buttocks.

Alex groaned. “Lass, ye must stop that or I canna be held responsible for my actions.”

Bree gave him a wicked smile. “Who says I want you to be?”

His eyes turned dark and the raw passion in them stole Bree’s breath. For a moment he just stared at her but then he was kissing her again, hard, desperate, full of desire and need. He pulled up her dress and his fingers traced up the inside of her thigh, sending shivers right through her core.

Bree snatched at the plaid around his waist, wanting it gone, wanting nothing between them but their own heat. Alex obliged, neatly unclasping it and tossing it away so that he was naked, the firelight playing along the length of his body. He was glorious. Every inch of him was hard, contoured, his golden skin seeming to glow in the firelight. Bree’s eyes took him in, from the crown of his head, down his face to his chest, then to his hips and groin where his manhood stood straight out, telling her how much he wanted her.

The sight of it made excitement uncoil in Bree’s stomach. The ache inside her intensified until it was almost painful. She sat up and began pulling the dress over her head. Alex grabbed the material and yanked it, almost ripping it in his eagerness to get to her. He dropped the material next to the fire and then rocked back on his heels, taking her in.

His eyes were round and huge, like pools of darkness that flickered with flames. A low growl escaped him.

“Ye are beautiful,” he muttered. “Lord, so beautiful.”

He leaned into her, his lips finding hers again and Bree wrapped her arms around his head as he pushed her gently onto her back, following her down. Heat radiated from him, so strong she doubted they needed the fire to keep them warm. He placed his palms flat on the ground to either side of her face and looked down at her for a moment, his gaze full of longing.

“I love ye,” he whispered. “So much. So much.”

He lowered his face and kissed her gently, tenderly, as he nudged her knees apart and lowered his body atop hers. It was like being touched by a firebrand. His skin burned against her, feeling soft and smooth and so right as their bodies aligned. The tip of his manhood bumped against her sweet spot, sending a shot of electricity right through her.

“Alex,” she muttered. “I love you. I need you. Please.”

Alex groaned by her ear and then shifted his hips forward. Bree tilted her body to meet him as he slipped inside her, filling her up to the hilt.

It felt glorious. It felt...she couldn’t describe how it felt. She wrapped her arms around Alex, pressing him against her as he held himself inside her for a moment, savoring the sensation of their bodies joining. Then he began to move.

Bree gasped, sucking in a deep, ragged breath. A whirl of physical sensations swamped her, so strong she struggled to think. Every nerve in her body came alive, crackling with energy, with heat, with life. She had never felt like this. Not with anyone. Never so alive. Never so complete.

Alex groaned and his movements deepened. His breath was a hot wind against her ear, each breath exhaled on a thrust deep into her body. Bree lifted her hips to meet each of his lusty strokes, grabbing his buttocks with her fingers, writhing beneath him as his skin glided over hers.

“Bree,” Alex muttered, his voice a low, almost animal like growl. “Ye are mine. No other’s.”

“Yours,” Bree replied in a breathy whisper. “Always yours.”

He buried his face in her shoulder and Bree wrapped her legs around his hips as fire began to build deep within her abdomen. Each thrust of Alex’s body inside hers stoked that fire, sending pulses of electricity through her body. The fire built and built and built until it was a raging inferno, engulfing everything, sizzling along her nerves, incinerating her thoughts, until there was nothing but Alex’s body. Only that.

Then all of a sudden she exploded. The fire consumed her. She screwed her eyes tight shut, arching her back as she screamed something—Alex’s name?—at the sky. Somewhere on the edge of her awareness she was aware of Alex shuddering, a great gasp escaping from him and then holding himself inside her for a long, almost eternal instant.

Then he dropped down on top of her, his weight pinning her to the ground for a moment before he levered himself onto his hands and looked down at her. Flames danced in his eyes. Shadow and light played along his body as his chest heaved, fighting to catch his breath. Bree reached up and ran a finger across his cheek then brushed a strand of golden hair from his face.

His beauty took her breath. This man, this brave, strong, kind, amazing man was hers. She could hardly believe it.

Alex said not a word. Instead he bent his head and kissed her. It was gentle this time, the desperate desire having faded to be replaced by a tenderness that made Bree’s heart swell. After a long, deep kiss Alex rolled away from her, grabbed his blankets and shook them over them both, settling onto his back and pulling Bree into the crook of his shoulder, one arm curled protectively around her.

Bree nestled into him, fitting her body along his, loving the way their skin touched, enjoying the heat radiating from him. The blankets were warm from where they’d been by the fire and the warmth stole through her, making her sleepy.

“I never dreamed,” Alex murmured. “I never dreamed that I could have this.”

Bree went up on her elbows and looked at him. His sapphire eyes were fixed on her, an earnest look in them. “Have what?”

He gestured with his free hand. “This. You. Us. I never imagined anything would feel like this. Nothing.”

Bree thought about that. “Me neither. I feel like someone who’s been living their whole life underground and I’ve just been brought outside to see the sun for the first time.”

Alex smiled, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her shoulder. “I think ye have something of the poet in ye, my love.”

“You reckon?” Bree snorted. “Tell that to my English teacher. She always thought I had all the literary skill of a stone.”

Alex barked a laugh and Bree’s heart soared. She loved it when he laughed. It was so rare that when it happened it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. She settled against him, resting her head on his chest. He held her tightly and Bree let out a deep, contented sigh. She had never felt so safe, so protected, so bone-achingly content. Her eyes slid closed. The rhythm of Alex’s breathing lulled her and she soon fell asleep.

***

Alex pushed open the door to the cottage and made his way inside. His muscles ached, the ache of an honest day’s work in the fields. He felt tired but content as he stepped into the room. His wife looked up from where she was stitching by the fire and smiled. His heart swelled at the sight of her. In two bounds he’d crossed the room and scooped her into his arms, kissing her fiercely.

“I’ve missed ye,” he breathed, leaning back and looking at her.

“Missed me?” Bree asked, laughing. “You’ve only been gone since this morning!”

She wrapped her arms around him and Alex held her close, felt her heart beating next to his and smelt her scent in his nostrils. Contentment rushed through him. This was all he needed right here. All he’d ever needed.

Then hoof beats echoed in the distance. A sudden fear drenched Alex. Something was wrong. Armed men burst into the room. Some wore the faces of his family, others wore the faces of Lord Donald and his men.

“Ye think ye can escape us?” the figures demanded. “Ye think ye can escape what ye have done?”

Terrified, Alex grabbed Bree’s hand and pulled her out of the back door of the cottage. In moments they were mounted and running. They always seemed to be running. Alex glanced back and saw that the figures were following. They’d never give up. Never let them go. They could never escape...

Alex lurched upright with a cry, his heart hammering in his chest. He passed a shaky hand across his forehead.

“Whassup?” Bree muttered groggily.

“Nothing, love,” he replied. “All is well.”

She was still curled up against him, her warm, naked body pressed against his. He ran a finger down her shoulder and felt a thrill as he saw goose bumps ride up her skin. She muttered in her sleep. He placed a finger under her chin and tipped her face up towards his, ready to kiss her awake.

But his eyes suddenly settled on the blanket she was lying on. It was a thread-bare thing barely worth the name. Then his dream came rushing back, the fear, the endless running.

Something hard and cold settled in his stomach as realization dawned. What was he doing? This was not Dun Carrick. This was not some sumptuous bedroom fit for a lady. This was a ruined farmhouse out in the wilds. He was not a rich laird who could provide for his woman and their bairns, he was an outcast, penniless and hunted. He had no network of clan to support him. The only life he could offer Bree was the one he’d seen in his dream—penniless, hunted, always looking over a shoulder.

No. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t lead her into that life. He loved her too much for that.

He gulped in air as pain rampaged through him, twisting in his gut like a knife blade. It wasn’t physical pain—that he could have dealt with. No, this was raw, intense emotion the like of which he’d never experienced. He would rather have been stabbed. It would have been less painful than the knowledge of what he had to do.

Gently he laid a kiss on Bree’s forehead and then stood. She mumbled in her sleep but didn’t stir. The morning air was cold against his naked body as he moved around the room picking up his clothes. In short order he was dressed and he bent over the fire-pit, stirring it to life.

Behind him he heard Bree stir but he didn’t turn to face her.

“What time is it?” she mumbled.

“Past sunrise. Time ye were gone.”

“Gone?” she said, her voice still fuzzy from sleep. “Gone where?”

Alex winced. “Put yer clothes on,” he said. “It’s time ye were on yer way.”

He heard her fumbling with her clothes as she got dressed then she laid a hand on his shoulder and he flinched, moving quickly away. He couldn’t allow her to touch him. If he did, all his resolve would go fluttering away on the breeze.

“What is it?” she asked. “Alex, what’s wrong?”

Alex took a deep breath, steeling his courage. He forced a cocky smile onto his face even though it felt like pins stabbing his face. Fixing the smile in place he turned around to face her.

“Nothing’s wrong. Last night was fun, wasnae it?”

She smiled. “Fun? I’d say it was a little more than that, don’t you?”

“Aye, well, like I said, it’s time ye were gone from here.”

“Why? Where are we going?” The skin between her eyebrows pulled together as she frowned. She gazed up at Alex with such a look of trust that it almost tore his heart in half.

Forcing a condescending tone into his voice, he said, “We? We aren’t going anywhere. Ye are going back to Dun Carrick and be quick about it. It’s time I was on my way.”

Her frown deepened. “What are you talking about? I’m coming with you.”

“Nay, ye are not. I dinna want to be burdened with a lass. Ye will be going back to Dun Carrick. I’m glad ye came, I canna deny—rolling in the hay with ye was enjoyable—but it’s time I was getting back to my lord.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Bree said, hurt and anger flashing across her beautiful face in quick succession. “Because if it is I don’t think it’s funny.”

“It’s nay joke, lass. Lord Donald will be waiting for me. My report is already late. Now gather yer things and be gone.”

He hated himself as the words came out and it was all he could do not to throw himself at her feet and beg her forgiveness. But it had to be this way for her sake so he forced himself to remain where he was, forced the cocky half-smile to remain on his face.

She stared up at him. “But...but you said you loved me.”

“I lied. How else would I get ye in the sack?”

Bree gasped, her eyes widening. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered. “It was real. I know it was real.”

Alex shrugged. “Believe what ye will. I know I am quite convincing in my role. It’s why Lord Donald chose me for this mission.”

“Mission? What mission? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Havenae ye worked it out by now? Laird Merith was right. She was always far more shrewd than my parents or uncle. That’s why she makes such a good leader. She saw right through me. She saw the real reason I was in Dun Carrick, the real reason I’d ‘rescued’ ye from Lord Donald’s keep. We needed information about Dun Carrick’s defenses, about their stores of weapons and food, the deployment of its guards. What better way to get back inside than to take a poor, defenseless woman who needed the Murray’s help? Ye were the perfect ruse. And that little jaunt last night? Well, that was the perfect ending to a job well done. Lord Donald will be pleased.”

Bree’s eyes had gone wide and her nostrils flared as she glared at him. All the color seemed to have drained from her face.

“You bastard,” she breathed. “You utter bastard.”

As quick as lightning she slapped him across the face hard enough to snap his head to the side. Alex welcomed the pain. Straightening, he looked up just in time to catch her other hand as she swung for him again.

“I will grant ye one,” he said. “But two is presumptuous. Now get gone, woman, and let me be on my way.”

She glared at him, tears shining in her eyes like diamonds. “How could you?” she said. “I trusted you. I trusted you!”

Alex faltered, his grin slipping. He almost caved in. He almost went to her, took her in his arms and told her how much he loved her. He almost kissed her until she believed him. But he didn’t. That would be the selfish thing to do. Better if she hated him. Better if she walked away, put him out of her mind and went home, got on with her life. That way at least she had a chance to be happy.

“I never asked ye to trust me,” he forced out, fixing the smile back in place. “In fact, I never asked ye to come here at all. If it weren’t for yer meddling ye would never even have come back to my time, so any consequences are yers to bear.”

She stared at him a moment longer, a single tear tracking its way down her cheek, then she spun on her heel and ran from the house. Shadow raised his head to look at her as she sped past. Alex steadied himself against the doorjamb. Nausea and dizziness roiled through him. What had he done?

It’s for the best, he told himself. Ye know that.

Bree crossed the clearing, barely looking where she was going. It was a long way to Dun Carrick. The least he would do is ensure she got there safely. He waited until she disappeared into the trees on the far side of the clearing then grabbed his sword and followed.

***

Bree stumbled along in a daze, barely noticing her surroundings. What the hell had just happened? She’d seen Alex transform before her eyes, like he was pulling on a mask. One minute he was her Alex, the Alex who’d made love to her last night, who’d rocked her world when he told her he loved her. The next moment he was a cold, arrogant bastard wearing a cocky smile that made her want to punch him.

It was a lie. It had all been a lie, right from the very start. He didn’t love her. He’d used her. First to get into Dun Carrick and then to get her into bed.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she have fallen for it?

You idiot, she told herself, wiping away angry tears. Don’t you ever learn? There’s no such thing as love. There’s only need and infatuation and it fizzles out so quickly you’ll wonder if it was ever there at all.

Look at her mother. She went from man to man, each one lasting as long as it took for her to get bored, as long as the thrill lasted.

Was that what Alex had done? Used her for as long as it gave him a thrill? As long as he needed her? And now that was over he’d discarded her?

A sob escaped her and she doubled over, leaning against a tree as pain ripped through her. It was so intense she struggled for breath.  She sucked in long gasps, trying to get control of herself and push away the sudden dizziness that threatened to send her crashing to her knees. A branch snapped behind her and Bree whirled, looking around in alarm. There was nothing. The empty woods stretched all around her as far as she could see.

She closed her eyes, drew in a long breath, and then opened them again. She had to get back to Dun Carrick. Hell, she should never have left in the first place.

Concentrating on the path, she placed one foot in front of the other and began walking. If she concentrated on her steps and pushed away everything else, maybe she could forget Alex for a moment. In this way she made her way back to Dun Carrick, losing all sense of time.

“Lady Breanne! Thank the Lord!” the shout snapped her head up. A rider was cantering towards her along the woodland path. It took a moment to recognize Alex’s father, Ewan.

Relief swept through her and she sagged against a tree. Ewan rode up to her, pulled his mount to a halt and dismounted.

“Are ye well, lass? Are ye hurt?” he asked, laying a hand on her arm. Concern shone in his eyes. They were deep blue, like Alex’s.

Hurt? she thought. You don’t know the half of it.

“No, I’m fine,” she forced out. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask ye the same question. When yer bed was found empty this morning, Connail and I came looking for ye. Where have ye been, lass? Ye gave us quite a fright.”

“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I...I went looking for Alex.”

A look of pain crossed his face. “Did ye find him?”

“I...no, I didn’t.”

Ewan nodded, sadness shining in his eyes. What must it be like for him? He’d been reunited with his son for only moments before he’d lost him again.

Don’t feel bad, she wanted to tell him. Don’t feel bad about him being gone. He’s taken us all for fools.

But she said nothing. Ewan and his family had been good to her. They’d become her friends and she had no desire to add to their pain.

“It’s my fault ye know,” he said softly.

“Your fault? What is?”

“Alex and his unruly nature. He is just like me.” He smiled ruefully. “When I was younger than Alex I was banished from the clan too.”

“You were?”

“Aye. I quarreled with my uncle, Merith’s father, one too many times. I was too convinced of my own superiority, too sure I was right to keep my mouth shut. Alex inherited that from me. Like father like son, eh?”

Bree squeezed his hand. “Alex is a man,” she said, her voice harder than she intended. “He makes his own choices. You aren’t responsible for them.”

Ewan squeezed her fingers. “Aye, well, it’s too late now. Come, let’s get back to the castle. Laird Merith is sending us to find Irene MacAskill tomorrow. With any luck, lass, ye will soon be going home.”

Bree nodded. A strange mix of sensations washed through her at this news. She felt relieved but also something else—reluctant? But why? Alex had betrayed her. This place wasn’t her home. So why did she feel sadness at leaving?

Ewan helped her into the saddle and then swung up behind her. Setting his heels to the horse’s flanks they began riding towards Dun Carrick.

***

Alex watched Bree and his father ride away from him. He’d concealed himself in a stand of scraggly bushes to watch as Ewan had ridden up to Bree. Alex had tracked her all the way back here, following at a distance and making sure he wasn’t seen. He had to ensure that she was safe. Now, as he watched her ride away with his father, he could finally put his mind at rest.

Or, as at rest as it could ever be. With all that had happened he wondered if he would ever know real peace of mind again. Still, at least Bree was safe, and if the conversation he’d overhead between Bree and his father was anything to go by, she’d be going home soon, back to her family and her life in the twenty-first century. She would be safe, happy. He had to find some solace in that.

With a heavy heart he turned around and retraced his steps back to the ruined farmhouse. Shadow was munching grass in the clearing and raised his head as Alex approached. He patted the stallion absently before packing his things and swinging into the saddle. Kicking the horse into motion, he galloped away.

He traveled steadily north all day, putting as much distance as possible between himself and Dun Carrick. He avoided the few crofts that dotted his path and instead kept to the woods as much as possible, shying away from any human contact. His mood was bleak. He had no real idea where he was going, he only knew he needed to get away.

He stopped to rest Shadow at midday and have something to eat from his saddlebags. He was sitting by the edge of a stream, staring into the rippling water when he heard a noise behind him—the unmistakable sound of stealthy footfalls.

He grabbed his sword and spun, raising the weapon just in time to block a blade that swung for his head. The swords struck each other with a clang of metal. Alex found himself looking into a familiar face.

“Well, well,” Owen said, leering at Alex. “Look what we have here.”

He stepped back, lowering his sword. Behind him stood five men, all with drawn swords. Alex recognized all of them as members of Lord Donald’s household. Alex eyed them warily, his sword held in a two-handed grip.

“Oh dear,” Owen said, spreading his hands wide. “Aren’t ye gonna greet yer old comrades in arms? Come on, admit it man—ye’ve missed us havenae ye?”

“What are ye doing here, Owen?” Alex grated. “Ye are a long way from Lord Donald’s holdings.” He remembered what Merith had said about Lord Donald’s men harassing villagers up near the Murray border. “It was ye,” he growled. “Ye are the ones who’ve been causing trouble in Murray lands.”

And cost me my place with my clan.

Rage surged through him. With a howl he threw himself at Owen, swinging his blade. The smile slid from Owen’s face as he parried Alex’s first blow awkwardly and was forced to take a step back. Alex advanced, white-hot fury obliterating his thoughts. He swung and hacked at Owen, forcing the man back, trying to find a way through his defense. Owen defended desperately, but Alex was the better swordsman and he knew it was only a matter of time before he found a way through.

“Why are ye just standing there?” Owen rasped to his men. “Stop him!”

His men surged forward and soon Alex was facing an attack from all sides. He spun and kicked and parried, using every ounce of skill his father had taught him. Two men went down, another lost his sword to a well-timed kick, but then something connected with the back of Alex’s head and his vision turned black. He collapsed to one knee, digging his sword into the earth to keep from falling on his face. He waited for the blow that would end his life but it never came.

After a few moments his sight cleared and he looked up to see Owen standing over him.

“Do it,” Alex rasped. “End it.”

“I would love to do just that,” Owen snapped. “But Lord Donald will want ye alive.”

“Why?”

A slow smile spread over Owen’s face. “Ye are a fool, Alexander Murray. Ye have always been a fool. Ye have given Lord Donald exactly what he wants.”

A wave of cold fear went down Alex’s spine. “What do ye mean by that?”

“He plans to take yer woman and destroy the Murray clan in the process. We know yer woman is riding out to Kirk Higham tomorrow. We know yer father and cousin will be riding with them, with a reduced contingent of guardsmen. And ye know why there will be a reduced contingent? Because the laird has sent the bulk of her force north, to root out the brigands who’ve destroyed one of her crofts. But we aren’t the large force we’ve made her believe. There are only twenty of us and we’ll lose her forces in the woods as though we were ghosts. Then, while we keep her warband busy, Lord Donald and the bulk of his host will be lying in wait on the Kirk Higham road.” He grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Ye should never have crossed us, Alex. Havenae ye learned by now that Lord Donald always gets what he wants? By this time tomorrow Lord Donald will have cut the heart out of the Murray clan. And Lady Breanne? She will be warming Lord Donald’s bed. And ye, my friend, will become Lord Donald’s prisoner, forced to watch as he takes everything ye hold dear.”