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He’d lost count of the steps he’d taken. His lung felt like someone was holding the sharp tip of a knife against it.

Damn, he was a hair’s breadth away from a punctured lung.

Another step.

He’d lost feeling in his frozen fingers. His arm muscles cramped to keep Rainne tight against him.

One more step.

One more step.

Just one more step.

He reached the snow-covered front stairs to the castle. The door at the top lay open. Voices wafted out from inside, but he couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. Sweat trickled down his brow. This was it. He was going in. He hoped to hell he’d meet a friend instead of a bullet.

He took the first stair with a groan. Four more. He could do it.

Four. Bloody hell, the pain.

Three. Breathe. Slow. Shallow.

Two. Hold it together. Nearly there.

One. Swallow the pain.

There. He was there. The sharp agony under his ribs was stronger. Stars burst in front of his eyes. He stepped into the hallway, boots heavy on the wooden floor. He was past stealth. He didn’t care who heard. He took a step towards the grand room. Someone came through the door.

Alastair froze. It took a second for him to realise it was Caroline. She turned towards him and gasped.

“Rainne needs help,” Alastair said. His words seemed to be coming from far away.

“Help!” Caroline shouted as she rushed towards him.

Joe appeared beside her, his face stern. His eyes went wide and he ran at Alastair.

“Help Rainne,” Alastair said. Damn, his words were slurred and he was finding it hard to see.

He felt a pop in his side. A bright flash of white-hot pain surged through him. His eyes rolled back. And he was falling.

Still holding Rainne tight to him.

25

* Megan *

To say Megan was annoyed would be like saying the Hulk felt slightly grumpy.

She’d been hauled into the darkness and dragged through the snow without even a coat to wear, and she was freezing her bum off. Her silver sweater had been chosen for pretty, not practical. Not to mention she’d changed back into her high-heeled fashion boots with their smooth sole which kept slipping in the snow. On top of that, a seriously scary guy stalked two paces in front of her and her former captive was pressed to her back. Trust him, he’d said. Yeah, she’d get right on that.

Megan scanned around her. The snowfall was easing up—slightly. There were no other men near them. It was just the three of them. And from the sounds of it, the bad guys back at the castle were having their backsides handed to them by her brother and his friends.

Good. She hoped they suffered.

She tripped over the snow and head-butted Reynard’s spine.

“Watch it,” he snapped. “Keep hold of her. We need to speed up. I have a couple of snowmobiles stashed at the west exit.”

“What about the others?” Dimitri’s left hand wrapped around her upper arm.

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