Page 46 of Highlander’s Dangerous Love

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Colin sat alone in the dense woods, surrounded by towering trees that seemed to scrape the sky. The only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird. If he really strained, he could hear the ocean in the distance, but that could easily be mistaken for wind. Colin had been camping out for three days, hiding in the woods for his own safety. He couldn't risk being seen by Bryce's men, who were always patrolling the area. He’d nearly blown his cover once already, not realizing they’d extended their perimeter. When he’d been part of the guard, they barely touched the forest. Colin wondered why there was this sudden need for increased security.

He stared into the distance, his mind consumed by thoughts of Gemma. She had gone to see Bryce, to try and find out why he had been exiled. Colin had no idea what had transpired between them, but he couldn't help but worry. Would Gemma be able to convince Bryce to lift his banishment? Or would she be forced to leave him behind and marry him after all?

The sun was still high in the sky. Colin sighed heavily. He had no way of knowing what the future held. All he could do was wait and hope for the best. He knew that he would continue to hide in the woods until he was sure that it was safe to come out. At least Gemma had snuck out and provided him with some food.

Despite the uncertainty of his situation, Colin couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. The quiet beauty of the Scottish Highlands was a balm to his soul, and he knew that no matter what happened, he would always have this place to return to. At least, if Bryce did not kill him.

That peace quickly dissipated.

He scanned the sky, his heart falling at what he saw. It grew increasingly ominous. The first sign of the impending storm was the distant rumble of thunder, echoing through the hills and valleys like the heartbeat of a giant. The air grew thick and heavy, pregnant with the promise of rain. A faint breeze began to pick up, rustling through the trees and sending leaves and debris skittering along the ground.

Colin knew he did not have much time. It was not good to hide amongst the trees in an oncoming storm, lest he fancied being struck by lightning. He had no choice — he had to go to the castle. Confronting Bryce was the inevitable option now.

As the storm drew closer, the sky darkened to a deep shade of blue-black, and the first flashes of lightning streaked across the sky. Each bolt was like a jagged white spear, illuminating the world for an instant before fading back into darkness. The wind picked up, growing stronger with each passing moment. It howled through the trees, tearing at the branches and leaves with relentless force. Colin’s russet locks whipped violently around his face, stinging his eyes with their surprising impact.

The rain began to fall, at first just a light drizzle, but quickly growing in intensity until it was coming down in sheets. The drops pounded against the ground, creating a steady roar that drowned out even the loudest thunderclap.

The storm was in full force now, and there was no mistaking its power. Lightning continued to flash across the sky, each bolt seeming brighter and more violent than the last. The wind howled like a pack of wolves, tearing at anything that stood in its path. Colin kept his eyes fixed on the castle's turrets, standing tall and imposing against the darkened sky. He had to keep his goal in mind.

His heart was pounding in his chest, and his mind raced with doubts and fears. He knew he was risking everything by returning to the castle, but he couldn't bear to be away from Gemma any longer. His love for her was the only thing that kept him going, the only thing that gave him the courage to face the danger that lay ahead. Damn Bryce. Damn him for being such an entitled prick, for stealing her away and ruining his life. It wasn’t fair.

In the storm, there weren’t many guards on the wall. They would likely be inside the turrets, and their ranks would be spread thin. But even in the storm, he’d be visible — it was a wide open space between the forest and the castle. There was nowhere for him to hide or sneak up. He began to panic, until he remembered… Master Gordon had taken him through a tunnel once, one that led from his house to the castle. Colin had been young when he saw it, but he remembered it very well. Master Gordon had shown him this in case of emergencies.

If ever those bastard English decide tae come after our castle, ye can lead everyone tae safety through this tunnel. When yer captain of the guard, ‘twill be good for ye tae ken these things. But ye mustn’t tell a soul, aye?

Colin remembered those words well, and he was glad they came to mind now. The rain pelted him — cold, large wet droplets that seemed to pierce his clothing, intent on making their way into his bones. Under the cover of the forest, he doubled back to Gemma’s home. This too was a risk he was taking — inviting himself in when he’d been exiled. If anyone else were to see him, they might be accused of harboring a traitor. He certainly did not want that for any of the Gordon family or their servants.

As he approached the house, he realized only one chimney was smoking, and from what he knew of the layout, it was the kitchen. Master Gordon was away, the Gordon boys were apprenticed elsewhere, so it was likely only the maids and Mrs. Gordon inside. He surmised they were in the kitchen together with the largest hearth. Again, it was risky, but he had to do something.

Colin snuck around, keeping low and peeking into all of the rooms. None of them seemed to be occupied, save for the kitchen — his hypothesis was right. He breathed a sigh of relief and snuck in through the side door. With any luck, the study would be empty and he could use the passage.

The journeyunder the earth took longer than Colin would have liked. As a boy, this passage had seemed wide and cavernous, but as a tall grown man with broad shoulders, it was less than comfortable. And it was wet. It wasn’t finished with stone, just packed earth, so when it rained, it made the walls and the floor damp and a bit sticky. His red curls stuck to his forehead, slick with sweat and rain. Just a little longer and then…

Aha!

He spotted the door at the end, but he would have to be careful. It emptied into a cellar, and if there were any servants about, he’d surely be discovered. As the son of the former captain of the guard, his face would not be forgotten so quickly. As he pressed his ear against the door, he could hear muffled female voices.

“Och, aye, ‘tis her third bairn,” one said, and Colin heard some rustling and the clanking of glass.

Servants, he thought, sent to fetch wine.

“Christ, but that’ll be done quick. After yer second, it’s—” the second voice faded away until it was clearly out of the room, much to Colin’s relief. He had no desire to hear about the gruesome particulars of childbirth right now.

The door opened after Colin gave it a little shove, and he fell onto the cold stone floor of the cellar.

Now, he had to make it to Bryce. He stuck to the shadows, which was easier since the sky was so dark with the storm, but he was still wary that someone might see him. At every footfall and every word, he found himself pressing his body flat against the stone wall. Cutting through the balcony area of the great hall might work…it had direct access to the second floor and was not as wide open and well-lit.

The great hall was empty, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he tiptoed past the threshold.

But he did not have to look far to find Bryce.

“You!” Colin heard his menacing voice before he saw him.

Colin spun around.

“Aye, me,” he said with just the lightest touch of humor.