Page 26 of Moon Awakening

A tiny part of her mind was offended by the pronouncement, but she was too preoccupied with the prospect of dying at sea to work up any real anger.

The summer sun had not quite set when they reached the Balmorals' island.

Emily was breathing shallowly, her fingers curled like talons around the edge of the wooden slab she and Cait sat on. Her usually resilient nature had been eclipsed by the ongoing torture of crossing the roughened waters and doing it sitting across from Ulf, who glared at her like he hated her.

Lachlan had traded places with his brother moments after their brief scuffle and she'd spent the rest of the trip being glowered at by the angry soldier. She'd wanted to turn around, to face Drustan's back, but her fear of the water had complete hold again. Moving even an inch had been beyond her… and continued to be.

The sight of land so close was so welcome, tears sprang into her eyes, but she could not utter a word.

The brown-eyed soldier with the red hair, whom Emily had heard Lachlan refer to as Angus, jumped out to pull the boat to the shore while Ulf and the blond soldier went to tend to the horses. It took less than fifteen minutes to bring both the boat and horses ashore. Drustan lifted Cait to dry land and turned to do the same for Emily.

"Come." He put his hand out.

She stared at it. He expected her to stand, she knew he did, but for the last hour or more, her only grip on safety had been her tight hold on the bench beneath her. She willed her fingers to let go, but they did not move.

"What is the matter?" Lachlan asked Drustan.

"The English lass is being stubborn about getting out of the boat."

Lachlan turned to her, his frown fierce. "Do not try my patience."

"You don't have any," she muttered.

"If that were true, I would not be waiting for my apology."

She didn't respond to that bit of arrogance. She couldn't. She was too busy trying to make her fingers obey her.

"Come here," he barked, his gaze searing her.

Her body jerked and her fingers finally unbent from the seat. She shot to her feet, grateful for his brusqueness, but with no intention of telling him so.

Drustan's hand was still outstretched, but she ignored it, swaying toward Lachlan. He reached into the boat and grabbed her by the waist with both hands, then lifted her as if she weighed nothing. He set her on the ground, frustrated anger emanating off of him in waves that buffeted her overwrought emotions as powerfully as the water had crashed against the boat's bow.

She turned away and her attention was caught by the horses. They appeared no worse for their journey across the channel. She wished she could say the same. In order to return to the Sinclair holding, she would have to go back the same way. Sick at the thought, she barely stopped herself from praying she would remain captive until the end of her days.

"How far to your holding?" she asked Lachlan without looking at him.

She got no answer and sighed. "I am sorry for being difficult about getting out of the boat."

When she received no reply to that either, she looked back to see if Lachlan was still behind her.

He was, a strange expression in his gold-rimmed eyes. "You're wasted on Talorc, English."

She shook her head, not knowing what he meant.

"Aye, you are."

Cait made a sound of distress, but when Emily's gaze found her, she could see no reason for her friend's upset.

"My home is there," Lachlan said, drawing her attention back to him.

He was pointing and Emily followed the direction of his finger with her eyes, then gasped at what she saw. A sheer cliff rose fifty feet in the air and on top of the cliff was a huge stone castle that looked worthy of a king.

"It's massive," Cait whispered, her voice filled with awe as she came to stand beside Emily. "My brother's forces will never make it inside."

Emily had to agree. She didn't think the king of England would have much luck in a siege against the Balmorals.

"What we have we hold," Drustan said arrogantly, laying a proprietary hand on Cait's shoulder.