Page 73 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

"Me laird, I—" The guard's face had gone pale. "I checked the locks meself before the night watch. They were secure, I swear it."

"And yet," Lachlann gestured at the empty cell with barely controlled fury, "He's gone."

He moved closer, examining the lock. No signs of forced entry. No scratches on the metal, no damage to the hinges. Which meant only one thing.

Someone had opened it from the outside.

Someone with a key.

"How many guards were on duty last night?" Lachlann demanded.

"Three, me laird. Meself, Jimmy, and young Thomas."

"Where are they now?"

"Jimmy’s with the morning patrol. Thomas should be⁠—"

"Find them. Both of them. And I want every guard who had access to these keys assembled in the hall within the hour." Lachlann's jaw clenched. "Someone let that bastard out. Someone in this castle betrayed us."

The word tasted like ash in his mouth. Betrayed. Not just him, but Alba. Because that archer had been their best chance at learning Torquil's plans, at understanding the threat before it struck.

And now he was gone.

The guard was already running up the stairs, shouting for the others. Lachlann stayed in the dungeon, moving methodically through the cell, searching for anything the prisoner might have left behind. A scrap of cloth. A message. Any clue about who had helped him or where he'd gone.

Nothing.

The cell was as clean as if it had never been occupied at all.

Christ.

Lachlann slammed his palm against the stone wall, welcoming the sharp sting of pain. He needed to think. Needed to approach this strategically, the way his brother Eòin would have. Emotion had no place in solving this problem.

But anger kept flooding through him anyway, hot and vicious.

Someone in me castle. Someone I've trusted, fed, protected. And they've sold us out to that bastard Torquil.

The sound of boots on stone pulled him from his thoughts. James appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his expression grim.

"Ye heard," Lachlann said. Not a question.

"Aye. I've got men searchin' every corridor, every room." James moved to stand beside him, studying the empty cell. "The gate guards report no one left through the main entrance last night."

"Then they went over the walls. Or through the postern gate." Lachlann turned toward the stairs. "Get me a full accountin’ of every guard position from dusk until dawn. Someone saw somethin', even if they dinnae realize it yet."

They climbed back up into the castle proper, emerging into morning light that seemed too bright, too normal for the fury burning in Lachlann's chest.

The halls were already chaotic with soldiers running in different directions, voices calling out reports, boots thundering on stone.

"Search the eastern wing!" someone shouted.

"Check the storerooms!"

"Has anyone seen Thomas?"

Lachlann strode through the chaos, his mind racing through possibilities.

Who would betray him? Who had Torquil gotten to? Money could buy loyalty from weak men, and threats could break those who feared for their families.