“Really?”
“Really.” Ava pulled her close. “And anyone who says otherwise will have to answer to me.”
They settled into a comfortable silence, watching the countryside roll by. Ava tried to focus on the scenery, on planning what she’d need to do when they reached the castle, on anything except the man riding just outside the window.
But her eyes kept drifting to Noah. To the straight line of his back, the confident way he sat his horse, and the occasional glimpses of his profile when he turned to check on them.
This was going to be impossible.
They’d been traveling for hours when Ava noticed Noah’s posture shift. He’d been relaxed, almost lazy in the saddle, but now he sat straighter, his hand moving toward his sword hilt.
“Esther?” Ava kept her voice light. “Why daenae ye count the birds ye can see? I bet ye can find ten.”
“Ten? That’s easy!” Esther pressed her nose to the window, scanning the trees.
But Ava’s attention was locked on Noah. Something was off. The forest had become thicker, the shadows darker, and the driver had fallen silent.
The carriage slowed. Then stopped.
“Why have we stopped?” Ava called out.
No answer.
Through the window, she saw Noah’s jaw clench. His eyes swept the tree line, sharp and assessing.
“Show yerselves!” he called out, his voice cold as winter steel.
Ava’s stomach dropped.Nay. Please, nay.
Three men stepped out of the forest—rugged, dirty, with weapons that gleamed in the filtered sunlight. Bandits.
“Well, well,” the largest one said, his grin showing gaps where teeth should be. “What have we here? A fancy carriage, a finehorse...” His eyes landed on Ava through the window, and his grin widened. “And even finer company.”
Ava pulled Esther close, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“Turn around,” Noah said quietly. “While ye still can.”
“Or what?” Another bandit laughed. “There’s three of us and one of ye. Seems like we’ve got the advantage.”
“Ye think so?”
“We’ll be takin’ the carriage,” the leader continued, taking a step closer. “The horse. All yer belongings.” His leer made Ava’s skin crawl. “And the bonnie lass. Ye can keep the brat, we’ve nae use for children.”
Fear still clawed at her throat.
She’d seen fights before—drunken brawls at the tavern, and angry men throwing fists in the street. She knew what violence looked like, knew the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh, knew how quickly things could turn deadly.
And there were three of them. Three armed men against one.
Esther whimpered, and Ava’s fear crystallized into cold fury. Howdarethey? But it was nothing compared to what she saw on Noah’s face.
The transformation was terrifying. One moment, he was a stern laird. The next, he was something ancient and deadly, all barely leashed violence and promised retribution.
“Wrong answer,” Noah growled.
His sword cleared its sheath with a ring of steel that seemed to echo through the silent forest.
The bandits’ confident expressions wavered, but they didn’t retreat. The leader lifted his weapon—a rough blade that seemed more used for slaughtering animals than combat.
