It took four hours to reach their border and two more before the MacFale keep was in sight. Kevin waited just outside the gates, bare chested, his shirt clutched in his hand. His eyes held a look Greylen had never before seen.

“Alex has been taken,” Kevin said immediately, stopping any questions that Greylen might have had. “He offered himself in return for his mistress. I’ve no idea where he is inside,” Kevin reported, shaking his head. “I was told if I entered the gates before you arrived, they would kill her.” For the first time since he began stating the facts as he knew them, Kevin hesitated. Worse, he looked down before meeting Greylen’s stare again. “Greylen, she’s…”

“She’s what, Kevin?” Greylen demanded.

“She’s in the courtyard.” As if unable to report her condition to his laird, he looked down again. But he handed his shirt to Gavin before he could pass.

Greylen walked to the gates with Gavin. They stepped through with unwavering strides, no sound escaped their lips, no emotion showed upon their faces as the full moon revealed the condition Kevin could not himself divulge.

The debasement of his wife! His wife!

She’d been tied to a post, secured by ropes at her ankles and her wrists. She’d been stripped as well, and her body was covered with dark patches that he knew, even from such a distance, were bruises. Her face was cut and bleeding and her body shook visibly—not from the cool night air.

He’d never felt more rage in his entire life.

He walked through the courtyard, his eyes only on his wife. He heard his men ride through the gates and saw the doors of the keep open. But he didn’t glance their way. Nothing could deter his steps as he made his way to Gwen.

He stopped in front of her and removed his dagger as he held her unseeing eyes. One so swollen, ’twas almost completely closed. She flinched as he reached out to touch her. She didn’t realize ’twas him. He whispered in Gaelic, words she would know could only come from him. He watched as she at last tried to focus her gaze. He took his dagger and moved the blade across his forehead, waiting until blood covered his face. He showed her first that she was no different than he. She seemed to understand, for a tear slid from the eye she could still see from.