In a rage, she hammered at his chest, aiming deliberately for his wounded shoulder. “Let me down! I want tae ride with me braither, nae ye!”
“Nay time, and me horse is fresher from nae carrying double the first leg!” The words were sharp with pain, but his face was determined, and his grip was far too strong for her to break.
Finlay didn’t even bother to come to her defense. He simply vaulted into his own saddle. “Lead on!”
Almost as one, Blake and Finlay kicked their horses into a gallop, close to a flat out run, as they burst from the sheltered copse they’d been hiding in. Around Blake’s shoulder, Reyna saw moonlight glittering on the weapons and armor of five men. The face in the lead chilled her blood.
The man hunting them was none other than Luke, the weaselly man who’d turned them in to Laird Murray before. Themoonlight showed his face twisted into a snarl of hate and fervent desire to hurt them.
She knew, with cold certainty, that if Luke caught them, the only thing worse than dying would be what he’d do to them before he delivered the killing blow. And that was assuming he didn’t drag them back to Murray Keep for his laird to punish them first.
Then Blake spurred his horse faster, and the race was on.
