Maisie struggled for a bit but managed to climb over the last of the ruins. Quickly, Lavina scrambled up after her, but the men were right behind them. Lavina started breathing hard as she realized she might not get over the ruins in time. Just as Micah’s men reached for Lavina’s dangling foot, Maisie helped pull her up over the ruins. Lavina winced as loose stones dug into her flesh, but there was no time to check for bruises or scrapes, not when their lives were so close to being altered in ways Lavina didn’t want to think about. Lavina grabbed Maisie’s hand. “We need to go.”
“Aye,” Maisie panted.
Lavina pulled her sister behind her as she taunted her uncle’s men. “Ye’ll have to kill me before I let ye touch her.”
“Oh, now ye’ve gone and made things dramatic,” the scarred man sneered, before he lunged toward her, nearly snagging her in his arms.
The horse, still tethered nearby, neighed and stomped the ground, sensing the tension.
Lavina’s mind raced. There had to be a way out. The ruins offered no weapons. She had no sword, no dagger, not even a sharp stick. But she had fire. Not literal flame, perhaps, but something inside her that refused to break.
“When I tell ye, ye need to go,” she whispered to Maisie. “Ye see the trees over there? Ye’ll run to them and hide in the shrubs. Whatever ye do, dinnae come out until I give ye the all clear. Do ye understand?”
Maisie gripped her hand. “But?—”
“Now, Maisie!”
Lavina lunged forward, straight toward the larger man. It startled him, giving Maisie the precious seconds she needed to bolt through a gap in the stone wall. The smaller man cursed and gave chase.
The scarred man grabbed Lavina by the wrist, yanking her close.
“That was foolish,” he growled, rain dripping from his brow onto hers. “We were told to keep the young one unharmed, butye, wecan do with as we please. So ye had better nae tempt me if I were ye.”
“Let go of me!” she spat, twisting in his grasp and kicking at his shins.
The thunder overhead cracked like cannon fire.
In the chaos, the horse reared, its hooves striking out. The man flinched, and Lavina used the moment to wrench free and dash into the shadows beyond the tower wall.
She didn’t know where Maisie had gone, didn’t know if the guards would catch her. All she knew was that she had to find her sister before they did.
She ran.
Branches slapped her cheeks. Roots clutched at her feet. She scrambled through mud, soaked to the bone, her breath coming in sharp bursts.
Then, just ahead, she saw a flicker of movement.
“Maisie!” she cried.
The girl was crouched behind a fallen log, her eyes wide with fear. Lavina reached her just as footsteps pounded behind them.
Too close.
Too fast.
She grabbed Maisie’s hand, and they took off, ducking under low-hanging branches, weaving between trees, until they reached the edge of the ridge. Below them, the forest opened into a wide valley—one she recognized.
They were near the old shepherd’s trail. If they followed it, they might reach the lowland lochs by dawn.
“Come on,” Lavina urged. “We cannae stop now.”
Behind them, a furious voice shouted through the storm, “Ye’ll nae escape, lass! We’ll find ye, and when we do?—”
But Lavina didn’t wait to hear the rest.
She tightened her grip on Maisie, pulled her cloak tighter against the wind, and ran down the trail, vanishing into the night.
CHAPTER THREE
