Lachlan said with a stern word of warning, “Watch her. I’ll get a blanket for her.”
She wanted to return to the seawall, but she didn’t believe Maynard would let her take one step toward the door. She took a sip of the tea and choked on it. Whisky dosed the tea to a good degree, and she felt the liquid burn her throat and all the way down to the pit of her stomach.
“Drink up, lass. You’ll feel better.”
Numbed, she thought. Alcohol wasn’t good for making an ice-cold body warmer.
When she finished the tea, Lachlan returned with a white blanket covered with pink roses. She recognized it. The blanket had been on the little girl’s bed in the room that her grandmother had set aside so lovingly for her, hoping she would someday visit. And now her grandmother was lost to her forever. A couple of tears rolled down Colleen’s cheeks as she clutched the blanket tightly around her.
“We have to find him. We have to save him,” she gritted out between shivers.
Darby quickly joined her, and Lachlan slipped away while Maynard filled her teacup with more of that god-awful whisky laced with tea.
“We will,” Darby said. “I’m to see you to your room.”
Grant’s room. She burst into tears.
***
Grant struggled to swim against the swift tide, to free himself of the never-ending, swelling waves that threatened to bash him against the rocks.
Splashing wildly with his arms and legs, Archibald thrashed around, trying to keep afloat in human form. He would never last, not without someone’s help. He would succumb to the cold before long.
Grant’s fur coat kept the chill out, and he tried to swim away from the rocks, against the strong currents. But they pulled him in close to Archibald. Seizing the opportunity, Archibald grabbed hold of Grant and tried to use him as a flotation device. Grant swung his head around and bit into Archibald’s arm—his good arm. If he hadn’t, the bastard would drown them both. Archibald cried out, released him, and was swept away. That was the last Grant saw of him.
Grant continued to wolf paddle against the strong currents in the direction of the rocky beach well beyond the castle cliffs. The only way he’d manage was if he could swim away from the cliffs. Had either his mother or father been in wolf form when the sea had taken them, they might have survived. One thing he knew, he couldn’t make it back up the cliffs on his own.
Colleen. He couldn’t quit worrying that she hadn’t moved sufficiently away from the breakers after he knocked Archibald’s grip loose of her. What if she’d ended up in the sea with them?
His kinsmen had to have rescued her.
He heard his brothers shouting for him. They weren’t calling for Colleen. Which had to mean she was safe with them. Grant couldn’t howl in the water to let them know he was still working his way past the rocks. Sheer cliffs prevented him from seeing the shore or the area on the rocks where the trail led to the breakers below the castle.
A hint of beach finally appeared. Relief swept through him. Lights wavered all along the water’s edge. Barely keeping his head above water, he knew his kinsmen couldn’t see him in the black sea with the rain still falling in torrents.
Yelling for him, nearly twenty of his men watched the sea. Others, running as wolves, looked for any sign of him along the rocky beach.
Desperately, he wanted to call out to learn about Colleen. Was she safe and warm? Was someone watching over her? He refused to consider that she had ended up in the frigid waters with him.
When he got closer to the shore, Lachlan shouted, “Thank God! Grant! He’s there!”
Flashlights all angled in his direction as men ran to reach him.
One of the men in wolf coats howled. As soon as Grant reached the shore, bedraggled and worn out, he shook the cold water from his fur and howled, too. A chorus of howls chimed in. Some came from the cliffs on the other side of the keep. Others came from the beach as the wolves hurried to greet him.
Grant gave Lachlan a stern look, asking in a silent wolf way about Colleen.
“She’s fine. Upset, of course. Fearing the worst. Maynard gave her hot tea, and Darby’s escorting her to your chamber to get a hot shower.” Lachlan smiled. “She gave me a black eye and a few choice words when I wouldn’t let her stay on the cliffs to watch for you.”
Grant gave him a wolf’s smile. He loved her. Not that he had wished for his brother to have a black eye or that Colleen had given it to him, but he loved his feisty mate.
Then he barked with joy that she was fine and raced up the long climb to reach the closed portcullis, hoping he wouldn’t encounter any of Archibald’s men on the way there. He didn’t want anyone to sidetrack him from seeing Colleen as soon as he could.
Wearing their wolf coats, ten of his pack members raced outside the gate as soon as it was lifted to greet him. No sign of Archibald’s men or Baird and his kin. It appeared it had all been a ruse so Archibald could reach the keep. Grant suspected they’d all left, planning to meet up with Archibald later after he’d drowned Colleen.
Lachlan was still climbing the steep stone steps up the cliffs, the rest of the men in human form following him.
As soon as Grant entered the inner bailey, Enrick hurried to join him. “The lass is safe and sound, thanks to you, Grant. Darby’s guarding the chamber to ensure she doesn’t leave it. I was about to run up there to tell her you were on your way, but thought you might like to have the honor. We found the raft Archibald used to reach the cliffs. The rocks had torn holes in it. He would never have survived the return trip home if you hadn’t taken him out already.”
Glad Colleen would be all right and that Archibald would have perished no matter what else had happened, Grant nodded and raced for the keep and entered it.
When he reached his chamber door, Darby grinned at him and opened it for him. “Let us know if you require something hot for the two of you to eat and drink. I know it’s late, but if you need anything, Maynard and I will get it for you. Just let us know.” Then he closed the door for Grant.
Grant shifted and stalked across the floor to reach the bathroom. The shower was running and he heard Colleen crying. He hated to hear her so distressed.
“Lass, it’s me, and you should know by now you can’t get rid of me that—” he said, about to reach for the clear shower door, the steam misting the glass so that all he could see was her delectable outline.