Page 57 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander

The thought made his blood run cold. He would not allow his men or his family to fall victim to an ambush.

“Spread out,” he ordered, his voice carrying over the wind. “Search the area. Look for anythin’ out of place.”

The men obeyed without hesitation, fanning out over the rocky terrain. Hunter remained where he was, his eyes scanning the horizon. The ridge offered a vantage point, but it also made them vulnerable to attack from above.

“What are ye thinkin’?” Calvin asked, standing beside him.

Hunter didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watched the way the wind rustled the grass, the way the shadows shifted with the clouds. Every detail mattered. Every clue could be the key to catching their enemy.

“I’m thinkin’,” he said finally, “that whoever did this wants us to feel uneasy. They’re testin’ more than our defenses—they’re testin’ our resolve.”

Calvin nodded, his expression grim. “So, what’s the plan?”

Hunter turned to face him, his gaze steady. “We investigate.Thoroughly. And we make it clear that anyone who crosses our borders without permission will pay the price.”

Calvin grinned, a flash of white teeth in the gray light. “Now that’s the Hunter I ken.”

Despite himself, Hunter gave a faint smirk. But as he turned back toward the ridge, his thoughts drifted once more to Erica. He couldn’t put the image of her in his study out of his mind, the way she’d challenged him and pushed him to be honest.

For years, he’d carried the weight of his position alone, believing it was his burden to bear. But now, for the first time, he wondered if sharing that burden with her might not be a weakness, but a strength.

“Me Laird!” Finn’s voice rang out, urgent and sharp.

Hunter snapped back to attention, his hand instinctively going to his sword.

Finn was running toward him, holding something in his right hand. As the man got closer, Hunter saw that it was a scrap of fabric, dark and tattered.

“Found this in the rocks,” Finn panted. “Looks like part of a cloak.”

Hunter took the scrap of fabric and examined it closely. It was coarse and worn, the kind of material used by travelers or soldiers.

“It’s fresh,” he remarked, his expression grim. “Whoever was here didnae leave too long ago.”

The men exchanged uneasy glances, the tension palpable.

“Double the patrols,” Hunter ordered. “And send word to the other borders. If someone’s testin’ our defenses, I want to be ready for whatever comes next.”

As the men moved to carry out his orders, Hunter’s gaze lingered on the ridge. He didn’t know who was behind this or what their intentions were, but one thing was certain—he would protect his clan.

And that included Erica and Lily.

No matter what it took.

17

The morning dawned crisp and bright, sunlight spilling over the rolling hills of the MacKinnon lands.

Erica had barely slept, her thoughts drifting back to Hunter. He’d left the previous day with Calvin and a group of men to investigate the strange disturbances at the southern border. She told herself he would be fine—he was nothing if not capable—but the nagging worry refused to leave her because he had yet to return.

Pushing her unease aside, she dressed quickly and headed to the dining hall, determined to make the most of the day.

Lily was already seated at the long table, nibbling on a piece of bread while swinging her legs under her chair. Erica’s heart swelled at the sight of her niece’s small frame and wary expression.

“Good mornin’, Lily,” she greeted warmly, taking the seat beside her.

Lily looked up, her gray eyes brightening slightly. “Good mornin’, Aunt Erica.”

“Did ye sleep well?”