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With a growl, Broderick tore himself away, blood dripping from his lips. Finlay gasped, his hand flying to his neck as he stared up at Broderick in terror.

“W-what…what are you—”

Broderick pressed his palm to Finlay’s forehead, his mind pushing into the lad’s consciousness with practiced ease. Finlay’s eyes rolled back, his body slumping against the bed as Broderick wiped the encounter from his memory.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the lad’s desires, the warmth he felt for Davina, the joy her presence brought him. Broderick tried to pull them away, to unravel them from the fabric of Finlay’s mind.

But it wasn’t that simple. The emotions were too deeply rooted, too sincere.

Still, Broderick left him with a message. A warning.

“Leave her alone.”

The thought, caustic and commanding, embedded itself deep in Finlay’s subconscious.

Broderick straightened, his chest heaving as he stared down at the unconscious man. Finlay’s face was pale, his breathing shallow, but he would live.

He licked Finlay’s blood from his lips, and before his fangs receded, he pierced his thumb and smeared his immortal blood over the wounds at the lad’s neck.

There wasn’t much Broderick could do about the blood staining his nightshirt.

He lingered a moment longer, watching Finlay’s chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. Then, with a bitter sneer curling his lips, Broderick slipped into the shadows.

He scaled down the side of the castle, then over the perimeter wall, the scent of blood still on his lips. The night air, piercing and cold, bit into his skin, but it could not cool the fire raging inside him.

As he ran off into the darkness, a guttural growl roared from his chest.

The forest swallowed him whole, the trees crowding close as if to witness his fury. He pressed onward, deeper into the wild, where no eyes could see the torment that twisted within him.

She deserves better than me.

The unbidden thought festered in his mind, a barb he couldn’t tear free .

But neither could he surrender.

Not yet.

∞∞∞

The study was eerily quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fire in the hearth. Tammus dipped his quill in the inkwell, his hand steady despite the late hour. He scrawled his signature at the bottom of the draft and leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath.

“Nearly done,” he muttered to himself. “Just need witnesses and the church’s approval.”

The words felt heavier than he expected, and he frowned, reaching for the glass of whisky at his side. The firelight danced in the amber liquid as he swirled it absently, his mind wandering.

Though Finlay McIntosh was an ideal match—wealthy, respected, and deeply enamored with Davina—Tammus couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.

He hadn’t missed the way Broderick had stormed out earlier, his face a mask of barely contained fury.

And Davina…well, she’d agreed to the match, but as she stood at Finlay’s side, agreeing to the marriage, there had been a hesitation in her voice that lingered in Tammus’s mind.

He took a long sip of whisky and set the glass down, shaking his head. “Second-guessing won’t do me any good now. It’s for her future. And her own good.”

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement.

Tammus froze, his hand tightening around his glass. The study window overlooked the castle courtyard, and something—or someone—crept toward the curtain wall.

He rose slowly, his heart thudding as he rounded the desk with careful steps. The candlelight barely reached the leaded glass, and the courtyard beyond was shrouded in shadow. But there—just at the edge of the torchlight.

Broderick.

The man’s towering and broad-shouldered silhouette was unmistakable.

MacDougal receded into the shadows and slipped along the edge of the courtyard with a silent, feline grace that sent a chill racing down Tammus’s spine.

His cloak shrouded him in black, his figure blending into the night like an apparition.

“What the devil…”

Before Tammus could fully process what he was seeing, Broderick dashed. He crossed the courtyard in a blur, his movements impossibly fast, and then he scaled the perimeter wall with the ease a spider did on its web.

Tammus’s eyes widened as he watched Broderick ascend the stone like it was nothing more than a ladder. His hands and feet found purchase with ease, and within moments, he’d reached the top.

Tammus pressed his hands to the pane as he watched Broderick pause at the top of the wall. For a moment, the man stood silhouetted against the night sky, his figure dark and imposing. Then he dropped over the other side.

Tammus’s uneven breathing fogged the glass, and the fire popped in the hearth, startling him.

He staggered back from the window, his mind racing. Whatever the hell Broderick had been doing at the castle tonight, it couldn’t mean anything good .

Tammus returned and sank into his chair behind the desk, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for his whisky. He tossed the rest of it back in one gulp, the burn doing little to calm him.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, setting the glass down with a clink.

The fire crackled, the flames dancing as if in response to his unease. Tammus stared at the contract on the desk, his stomach twisting with dread.

Whatever the morning brought, he was certain of one thing: Broderick MacDougal was going to make it hell.

∞∞∞

The morning sun poured softly through the windows of Davina’s chamber, but her mood was anything but bright. She sat across from Rosselyn at the small table, her breakfast barely touched. The warmth of the tea in her hands did little to calm her nerves as she tried to put her thoughts into words.

“I can truly be myself around him,” Davina said, her voice quiet but steady. “He’s kind, thoughtful, and he appreciates my intelligence. He doesn’t shy away from it or feel…intimidated by it.”

Rosselyn arched a brow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Why on earth would any man be intimidated by you, Davina?”

Davina hesitated, her gaze dropping to the tea in her hands. She swirled it absently, the amber liquid catching the light, then mumbled, “Broderick said…” She stopped herself abruptly, her cheeks coloring.

Rosselyn’s smile faded into a knowing look. “It’s Broderick, isn’t it?”

Davina’s head snapped up. “What? Nay, I don’t know what you mean.”

“You can’t fool me, Davina.” Rosselyn leaned forward with a sly grin. “I know when you’re hiding something.”

Davina narrowed her eyes, her tone biting but playful. “And I could say the same about you.”

Rosselyn shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her cheeks coloring pink. She looked away, focusing far too intently on the plate in front of her.

“I knew it!” Davina exclaimed, pointing her teaspoon at her friend. “You’ve been spending entirely too much time with the Gypsies. Especially Nicabar.”

Rosselyn’s lips parted, but no words came. She took a breath, as though working up the courage to say something, but before she could speak, a knock on the door interrupted them.

The sound startled them both. Davina set her cup down gently, her heart giving a little leap. Morning light bathed the room in soft gold, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt suspended in time.

“Enter,” Davina called, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Davina?” Lilias opened the door and stepped into the room, her expression grim. “Your uncle requests your presence in the study. Immediately.”

Davina frowned, setting her tea aside. “What’s this about?”

Lilias folded her arms, her tone clipped and laced with simmering frustration. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

The way Lilias’s eyes narrowed made Davina’s stomach twist into knots. Her mother was clearly furious. Smoothing her gown to mask her unease, Davina rose from her chair and cast Rosselyn a quick glance. “Save some tea for me,” she said, forcing a thread of levity into her tone.

Rosselyn managed a weak smile, but her eyes betrayed her worry.

When Davina entered the study, she found Tammus pacing behind the desk, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. The tension hung heavy in the air, thick enough to choke on, and his expression thundered with barely contained rage.

“What did you do?” he barked, his voice slicing through the stillness and making Davina flinch.

She froze just inside the doorway, her heart thudding against her ribs. “I don’t understand.”

“What did you say to him?” Tammus snapped, jabbing a finger at her. “What did you do to make him want to leave?”

Davina’s blood ran cold. “Leave?” she breathed, her voice thin with disbelief.

Tammus’s glare hardened. “Finlay. He left just before dawn. The lad looked like he’d seen a ghost! Said he couldn’t marry you. Claimed he’d changed his mind.”

Her knees nearly gave way beneath her. She grasped the back of a nearby chair for support, her mind spinning. “Nay,” she said, shaking her head in denial. “That doesn’t make any sense. He left?” And then, like icy water dousing her skin, the truth dawned on her.

Broderick.

Tammus threw his hands up in exasperation. “Aye, he left! And now we’re in a bloody mess. That boy was the last decent chance you had. If you think I’ll bow to your manipulation—”

“Uncle, nay!” Davina’s voice rose in desperation.

“I didn’t do this! I like Mr. McIntosh. He said I’d made him the happiest man in the world when I accepted his proposal.

Why would I reject him when MacLeod is my alternative?

” Her voice cracked, and she shuddered at the very thought of the brutish merchant.

“I’d die before I let that cur get his hands on me again. ”

Tammus sighed heavily, sinking into the chair behind his desk. He rubbed his temples, exhaustion etched deep into his features. “MacDougal,” he muttered under his breath.

Davina frowned, her brows knitting together. “What?”

“MacDougal.” Tammus lifted his head, dawning realization flaring in his eyes before narrowing them on her. “Has he been coming to your chamber at night?”

“Broderick?” Davina’s heart jolted against her ribs. Heat crept into her cheeks, but she forced herself to meet his gaze, steady as stone. “Nay,” she lied. “Of course not. Why would you even ask that?”

Tammus grunted, clearly unconvinced. “I saw him in the courtyard late last night when I was working on the contract. Seemed to drop down from above.”

Davina’s stomach twisted into a knot.

Her gaze lifted instinctively to the ceiling, her pulse quickening.

Tammus followed her line of sight and cursed under his breath. “It had to have been MacDougal. Maybe he’s the reason these suitors have been leaving or changing their minds.”

Davina swallowed hard, biting back any defense that might give her away.

“Does he have romantic intentions toward you?” Tammus pressed, planting his fists on the desk as he leveled her with a piercing stare. “Well?”

She forced a high-pitched laugh, though it sounded brittle even to her own ears. “Of course not. He’s just a friend.”

Tammus snorted, the sound thick with disbelief. “Aye, well, it seems he wants to be more than friends. ”

He pushed away from the desk and strode toward the door with grim purpose. Davina scurried after him.

“Where are you going?” she asked, her voice tight with rising panic.

Tammus didn’t answer. He stepped outside, boots crunching on the gravel path as he crossed the courtyard toward the stables. Two guards stood nearby, passing idle conversation, but they snapped to attention at his approach.

“You two,” Tammus barked. “Find Broderick MacDougal in the village and bring him here. Immediately.”

Anthony and Gavin exchanged a wary glance but obeyed without hesitation. They mounted their horses and galloped off, their figures swallowed by the winding road and the mist rising from the early morning fields.

Tammus turned back toward the house, his expression grim. Davina followed him inside, her heart pounding.

“This is why I want you married off,” Tammus said as they re-entered the study, his voice rough as gravel. “Every man sees you as an opportunity. They’ll try to take advantage of you and your holdings. I’ll send a missive to Finlay’s parents, see if they can pressure the boy into coming back.”

Davina’s shoulders sagged, a breath of relief slipping from her lips. “Thank you, Uncle. Mr. McIntosh really is the only one I’d rather marry out of all of them.”

“Are you sure about that?” Tammus crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze probing. “You don’t have any feelings for MacDougal?”

Heat rushed to Davina’s cheeks. She lowered her eyes, fingers twisting at her sides. “Finlay is the one I want, Uncle.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, his tone like iron.

Davina bit her lip, hesitating, but remained silent .

“Where is he, Davina? MacDougal.”

“I don’t know,” she replied quickly. “We may be friends, but I am not his keeper. But I can inquire.”

Tammus’s expression darkened with hard skepticism, but after a beat, he gave a curt nod. “See that you do.”

Davina offered a shallow curtsy and withdrew from the study, closing the door softly behind her. Yet as it clicked shut, she caught a glimpse of her uncle’s tight frown, his brows drawn with suspicion. He didn’t believe her. Not for a moment.

Gripping fistfuls of her skirts, Davina gathered herself and hurried up the stairs, two at a time. Her breath came quick, her pulse hammering in her ears. When she burst into her chamber, Rosselyn nearly leapt out of her chair.

“Finlay’s backed out of the marriage,” Davina announced, her voice tight with frustration.

Rosselyn’s eyes flew wide. “What? Why?”

Davina sighed, tugging her cloak from its hook. “Broderick may have had something to do with it.”

Rosselyn’s jaw dropped, her brow knitting in confusion. “Broderick? What do you mean?”

“Do you know where he goes during the day?” Davina asked, fastening the silver clasp at her throat.

Rosselyn shook her head, still visibly rattled. “Nay, I don’t. But Nicabar might.”

“I’m going to the Gypsy camp. Are you coming with me?”

Rosselyn blinked, then nodded firmly. “Let me get my cloak. I’ll meet you downstairs.”