“Mother’s tits,” Donovan muttered.

At another time, Liam would have cheerfully teased Donovan about taking care when he indulged in a romantic walk with his wife. But he didn’t feel like teasing as they galloped toward Breanna’s house.

When they reached the arch, he turned left, galloping across the lawn, swearing under his breath. Donovan was swearing, too, with good reason. Standing in front of the men armed with whatever weapons had easily come to hand were Breanna, Gwenn, and Fiona.

He reined in hard enough to set the gelding back on its haunches and was out of the saddle and pushing through the men to reach his impossibly stubborn sister, who was standing right out in the open with her hair piled up on her head and an arrow nocked in her bow. Fiona also had a bow, and Gwenn was holding a fireplace poker. All three of them were wearing nothing above their skirts except camisoles which covered skin but didn’t exactly hide anything.

After giving the woods a quick scan and detecting no movement, he allowed himself a moment to consider what Breanna wasn’t wearing.

“Why are you dressed like that?” he asked at the same moment Donovan asked, “Gwenn, why are you out here holding a poker?”

“Because it’s hot,” Breanna snapped.

“Because I still can’t hit a target with an arrow,” Gwenn said testily.

We could be fighting for our lives in another minute, and I’m embroiled in a farce, Liam thought, keeping his eyes focused on the woods. He noticed the guards, after a swift, appreciative glance, were also keeping their eyes on the woods as they moved to stand in front of the women.

One of the guards glanced back at Donovan. “The ladies should go into the house. It will be safer there.”

A hawk’s scream distracted the women before any of them gave the man her opinion. A few moments later, Falco joined them.

“Breanna—” He stopped, stared at her, then asked, “Why are you dressed like that?”

“I will shoot the next man who asks me that,” Breanna said. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

“We do,” Falco said hurriedly as the riders approached on their silent horses. “Breanna, don’t get mad at me for what I say.” He winced. “At least…don’t hurt me.”

The riders came out of the trees, spreading out in a double line. Twenty grim men armed with bows or crossbows. They stared at the armed men facing them. Then their faces changed, freed of the glamour that gave them a human mask.

Before Liam—or Falco—could stop her, Breanna pushed past the guards in front of her and drew back her bow. Falco pushed through to stand behind her, and Liam followed him, forcing the guards to step back.

“You’re trespassing,” Breanna said coldly. “I told your Lightbringer he wasn’t welcome here. I’m telling you the same thing.”