Elijah swore under his breath. “How long ago?”
“They waited out the worst of the storm,” the scout said. “Only as long as they had to. They’re ridin’ now, but they’re fast.”
A cold, sick weight settled in Kieran’s gut.
“How far ahead?” he asked, his voice deadly calm.
“Enough to have the advantage,” the man said. “They forced their horses through the night.”
Kieran’s grip on the reins tightened until the leather creaked.
Of course, Sebastian had done it. He would drive men and beasts into the storm without hesitation. Lives meant nothing to him—not those of soldiers, not those of wives, not those of unborn children. Time was the only currency he valued.
Kieran squeezed his eyes shut for a heartbeat.
I should have gone.
The thought hit him like a blow to the chest. He saw it all in brutal clarity—himself riding alone through the rain, reckless and half-mad, arriving sooner—arriving in time.
Lydia.
His throat burned. The more he sat there on the saddle, the more he regretted ever listening to Elijah instead of throwing himself into danger. He was a skilled rider. He wouldn’t have yet reached the castle, but he could have beaten Sebastian to it; he was certain of that.
Elijah watched him closely. “Kieran.”
“I listened to ye,” Kieran said, fury bleeding into his voice. “I waited. I stood still while he moved.”
“And if ye’d ridden out alone,” Elijah shot back, stepping closer, “ye might be dead right now.”
“Dead would be better than late,” Kieran snarled.
Elijah grabbed the front of his cloak, hauling him close enough that rain-damp fabric scraped against armor. Kieran almost toppled over his horse, catching himself at the very last moment, his eyes narrowing into a glare as he stared at Elijah.
“Nay,” he said fiercely. “It wouldn’t.”
Kieran met his gaze, eyes dark and wild. “Tell that to me wife.”
“I will,” Elijah said without hesitation. “If it comes to that. And I’ll tell her ye were held back because ye were needed alive to finish this.”
Kieran tore his gaze away, his chest heaving.
“I kent he’d do this,” he said bitterly. “I kent it, and still, I waited.”
“Ye waited because ye were thinkin’ like a commander, nae a desperate husband,” Elijah said. “That matters.”
“It willnae matter if we’re too late.”
Elijah released him and turned to the men, his voice ringing out. “Ye heard him. Mount up. We ride now.”
The camp exploded into motion. Kieran leaned forward on the saddle, his forehead briefly resting against his horse’s neck. For one fleeting moment, he let the guilt wash over him, thick and choking.
I’m comin’, Lydia. I swear it.
He straightened, his eyes blazing, and drew his sword just enough for the steel to whisper free of its scabbard.
“Ride hard,” he growled. “And if we catch Sebastian before he reaches the castle, we daenaelethim reach it.”
“Do ye feel this, too?” Lydia asked, this new weight in her chest, making it difficult to draw breath.
