Page 57 of Enchantment of a Highlander

Ruadh stopped in front of a fallen tree, his head craned forward. The bushes to the left shook and a fat brown squirrel bounded across the forest floor.

Ruadh took off after it in a spatter of wet leaves.

Celia’s stomach slid low in her belly.

“A squirrel?” Alec asked beside her. He shook his head, irritation evident in the hard line of his lips.

Celia glanced at the forest around them and saw nothing. No flash of the green tunic Duncan wore, no glimpse of his blond hair.

Nothing.

Disappointment crumpled deep inside her chest.

Alec had already started walking away when she heard a low sound, so quiet it was barely a whisper.

A groan?

Her pulse quickened.

The noise came from a large fallen tree to her right. She lowered herself to the wet ground. Puddled rainwater soaked through her already damp clothing, but she paid it no mind.

She had to see. Just to be certain.

Leaves stuck to her palms and the forest floor felt as if it slid with her as she nudged forward and peered into the hollowed out log.

Something showed pale against the deep shadows within.

Goosebumps rose on her skin.

“Wait,” Celia said quickly. “Bring back the light.”

The breath she’d taken locked in her chest. She arched her back and peered deeper into the rotted out tree trunk. Her breath released in a slow, painful exhale.

There, highlighted in the soft glow of light, was Duncan. His legs were curled up to his chest and his skin was pale.

Deathly pale.

“Duncan,” she whispered.

He did not move.

“Duncan,” she said again. Louder this time.

Still he did not move, and her heart fell.

Chapter Seventeen

Alec carried Duncan’s limp body back into the bed chamber where the boy had only recently risen.

Celia hovered behind him like an anxious mother. She pulled the blanket down to the bottom of the bed.

“Lay him here.” Her voice held a calm authority that told him this was her territory now.

Alec lowered the boy to his bed. A foreign surge swelled in his throat, choking off any attempt to speak.

“You have to move back, please,” Celia said in a gentle tone. Her face tilted up toward him. A strand of wet hair was plastered against the curve of her injured cheek. “He’s breathing and though his heartbeat is soft, it’s steady.”

Alec stepped back to give her the room she needed. His arms folded over his chest, but the action did little to ease the ache there.