The world had split open in the strangest way. As though there were a rip in space. And she had fallen through it and he fell with her.
And then she had landed on the ground, her bones rattling with the force of it. Bruce had been right behind her, grabbing her by the hair—yes, that was it. Her scalp was sore from how hard he had jerked. He had pulled her to her feet, still trying to claim the stone and then…
And then he had released her and she had fallen forward. She had been on the ground when she looked back to see the broad-shouldered man with a beard standing between her and Bruce. He had held a sword, firelight glittering along the edge.
But firelight didn’t make sense. She had climbed to her feet, her legs wobbly and her muscles quivering from the intense fight. She had still clutched the strange little stone in her fist and met Bruce’s terrible eyes. Eyes that were once full of love now gleamed with hate.
When her savior had spoken, he had sounded…Scottish. He was protecting her? Then there were two more men moving to stand between her and Bruce. One held a torch. And the man, the first man, had told Bruce to leave. Bruce had said it wasn’t over and she believed him.
The man who had saved her turned toward her and she met his sea-green eyes. In that moment, the recognition had hit her. She’d seen him before in her vision when she was in the antique shop. Or was her mind playing tricks on her?Her legs had been no longer able to hold her up and she collapsed to the ground.
He had been there in a flash, pulling her into his arms. Such strong arms. As she’d looked at him, she confirmed he was not a figment of her imagination. He was real and he was holding her. All she had thought to do was say thank you.
Now, she jerked upright in his arms, her eyes wild and her heart pounding as she looked around. She was indeed perched in the lap of the man who had scooped her off the ground. He chuckled, a sound rumbling deep in his chest, his gloriously broad chest.
“Awake, I see.” There was a smile in his voice.
The morning light glinted across his face, illuminating it in a pale-yellow glow. His features were hard, chiseled. His cheeks and chin were covered in a beard. His mouth was thin and unforgiving even though his lips held a smile. His eyes…oh, those eyes. They were a sea- green—or were they? In the morning light, they changed color from bluish to greenish, like a stormy sea churned by gales of wind. He was fierce looking and yet, she was not afraid of him.
“Who—” Her voice cracked. Her throat ached. Her mouth was parched.
“Och, lass, dinnae try to speak. Ye’ve had a bit of shock, I’d wager. We’re almost to the keep.”
That voice. It was dark and deep and thrummed through her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Not in a bad way. In a way she had never experienced. In a way that told her he was not to be trifled with and yet he would fight to protect her with everything he had in him.
She glanced around again, trying to get her bearings. They were, in fact, riding a horse. The two men she had seen earlier were ahead. In the distance, a castle. Dawn glinted off the ancient stone, the high turrets, the wide curtain wall. The portcullis was up.
But, no, this was no ancient castle. This was someone’s home. The man’s? She didn’t know.
Her hand throbbed. She looked down to see the lines from the stone burned into her palm. Her skin was red and angry.
“The stone!” she gasped.
“Safe, lass,” he said, his tone reassuring.
She looked at him, but his eyes were straight ahead, never wavering. “And Bruce?”
His gaze flickered to hers. “He was the one who attacked ye?”
She nodded, afraid to say it aloud for fear she would break into sobs. Bruce was the man she had thought she loved. The one she had told Evie she thought was the one. But he wasn’t, was he? He had betrayed her. He had tried to take the stone from her.
Her savior’s gaze hardened as though the mention made him angry. “He willna bother ye again.”
Hot tears pricked her eyes. Emotion clotted in her throat. ShetrustedBruce. She had been sure it was love at first sightwith him. He was charming and witty and handsome and she had envisioned spending the rest of her days with him. And now…now he had tried to hurt her. Had he tried to hurt Evie? Did he…no, she shoved that thought away.
She had to believe Evie was alive and well somewhere. But where? Where was she? Why was Chloe unable to find her? And why did Bruce steal the blue velvet bag?
The blue velvet bag like the one Moira had given her.
With the stone.
Oh, God. Did Evie have a stone like hers?
“Are ye well, lass? Yer shaking.” Concern edged his features.
“Am I?” Her voice was still rough. It hurt to talk.
His arms tightened around her.“I swear to ye, by my sword, he willna touch ye again.”
