“Colleen was here. The door is bolted.”

Maynard helped Grant kick it open and found no sign of the lass in the small water closet, long since shut up, the boards covering the toilet hole torn aside and thrown on the floor. Grant swore. “Alert the men Colleen may be down at the cliffs.”

“Aye…aye, my laird.” Maynard hurried out of the water closet and raced down the hallway.

Grant kicked the boards out of the way, careful not to step on the exposed rusty nails. He peered down into the pipe and smelled Colleen’s sweet scent mixed with the mold and earthy smells of the pipe. Bloody hell! He couldn’t believe anyone could have forced her down them. Especially when he smelled no other wolf’s scent in here. Had Archibald come for her?

He would kill him. Grant stripped and shifted into his wolf form. Without a moment’s hesitation, he slid down the pipes, hoping he didn’t break a leg when he landed on the rocks below.

He tumbled out of the pipe onto the rocks and saw Archibald dragging a hand-tied Colleen down below to the breakers. His heart hammering his ribs, Grant knew tackling the bastard that close to where the sea was coming in could mean his and Archibald’s deaths. Maybe even the lass’s if he couldn’t stop them before she got just as close to the sea.

He would do anything to save his mate’s life. He knew his brothers and his pack would take care of Colleen as soon as he could free her from Archibald’s grasp.

Grant raced down the path in the driving rain, slipping a little, and lunged for the cur, praying he didn’t slide with him and pull them off the edge of the cliffs. Using his wickedly sharp canines, he grabbed Archibald’s arm and sank his teeth deep. The man cried out. With his free arm, Archibald reached for a knife in his boot. Before Grant could let go of him and jump back, a wave curled up over the rocks, threatening to take them both out.

Grant prayed Colleen had gotten back away from the breakers. The wave swept him and Archibald off their feet. His heart in his throat, Grant felt himself and Archibald being carried out to sea as he heard Colleen scream.

***

Colleen had heard the deep-throated growl that sent a shiver down her spine right before she saw the wolf dash for them. Grant. Even though she knew the threat was not directed at her, the sound was enough to curdle her blood.

A flash of gray fur lunged at Archibald. As a powerful, raging wolf, Grant grabbed Archibald’s arm, chomping down, forcing him to cry out and release her.

Heart somersaulting, she fell against the slippery rocks. Archibald swore and fumbled to get to a knife sheathed in his boot, the wooden handle sticking out for her to see, but Grant yanked him back toward the breakers.

Chilled to the core of her being, she moved toward them, unable to do anything with her hands tied.

A wave rose behind them, large enough to knock them down, and she screamed, “No!”

She dove toward them, not that she could do anyone any good, but the wave swept wolf and man into the sea before she could reach them.

“No! Colleen!” Enrick shouted as he hurried to reach her.

She barely heard the men scrambling down the rocks. And then strong arms pulled her away from the threat of the sea.

“No!” she screamed. “Let me go! Grant!”

The seawater and rainwater drenching her, she struggled to return to where he had disappeared. She wanted to help him in any way that she could, wanted to see the men bring him out of the sea. But Enrick and Darby hauled her back to the seawall.

“Lass, we will do everything we can to rescue Grant,” Enrick assured her while he cut the ropes binding her wrists. Then he lifted her over the wall to Lachlan.

She knew they could do nothing. Not in the dark in the roiling sea. Not when Grant was a wolf.

Lachlan had hold of her arm with a titan grip and hurried her to the keep.

She shivered and shook and couldn’t stop agonizing over wanting to return to find Grant. She didn’t remember everything that happened after that. She thought she hit Lachlan in the eye. She might have cursed a few choice words. How could they give up on him now? How could they keep her from him?

“We don’t want you to catch your death, lass,” Lachlan said, moving her against her will to the castle and trying to reason with her. “Grant would have our hides.”

He spoke as if Grant would survive, that he wouldn’t see it any other way.

Men hollered for Grant from the top of the cliffs.

“Others will head down to the rocky beach beyond the cliffs. We’ll find him,” Lachlan assured her again, sounding more this time like he was trying to convince himself it was true.

Had any of those living here over the centuries survived the sea, either in their wolf forms or human, other than she and Ollie who had been fortunate enough to have been seen and rescued in time? She didn’t want to ask for fear she’d hear no one had.

She fought to control her emotions. They would find him alive. They had to. He had been a wolf when the sea had taken him. He would be warm enough, but had he been injured? Could he fight the tide’s relentless pull? Could he keep from being dashed against the rocks?

When they reached the kitchen, Maynard prepared hot tea for her. “Here, drink this,” he coaxed. He was dripping wet like she and Lachlan were, and she assumed then he’d run back inside ahead of them to fix the hot tea for her. She wanted to cry.

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.