Page 40 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

"How many more attacks are planned?" Ruaridh asked.

"As many as it takes," Dougal replied, though his earlier bravado was gone. "Murray's nae the kind tae give up easy. He'll keep coming until he gets what he wants."

"And what happens if he daesnae find what he's looking fer?"

Dougal's smile was cold but shaky now. "Then he'll burn yer castle down rather than let it stay hidden."

Ruaridh grabbed the man by his shirt, yanking him forward until the chains went taut. "If Murray comes fer me castle, if he threatens me clan again, I'll make sure ye live long enough tae watch me drag his entrails through the courtyard. Dae we understand each other?"

Terror flickered in Dougal's eyes as he nodded frantically.

"Christ!" The word exploded from him as he pressed his hand to the wound. The violent movements had torn his stitches loose, and blood was trickling through the bandages.

Behind him, Dougal slumped against his chains, bloodied and beaten into silence. The interrogation had yielded what information it could—Murray was desperate enough to risk everything, but his soldiers knew little of the true stakes. But he imagined his cousin knew all about his plans.

He made his way through the dungeon corridors with measured steps, each movement carefully controlled to avoid further damage. The torch flames seemed to waver with each heartbeat, and he could feel cold sweat beading on his forehead despite the chill of the underground chambers.

The stone walls pressed close around him, their dampness adding to the oppressive weight of everything he'd learned. Murray wasn't just coming for Iona—he was coming for complete destruction rather than risk exposure.

By the time he reached the main corridor, his breathing had grown labored. The climb up the stone steps to the castle proper stretched ahead of him like a mountain, each step a reminder of his body's limitations.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew he'd make the same choice again.

But every moment they delayed gave Murray more time to plan, more opportunity to strike. The information Dougal had provided was limited but crucial—Murray would never stop, would burn everything rather than let his secrets survive.

There was no time for regrets. He had to get to the healer before he lost too much blood, before the wound reopened completely.

The healer's chamber had never seemed so far away.