Page 6 of Promised to the Cursed Laird

"Hold—"

She ran. Not toward the gate because there were two of them there, and she'd never make it. She turned left, toward the stable.

The gap between the stable wall and the inner keep appeared ahead, narrow and black. She had noticed it that afternoon and wondered where it led.

Now she knew. Anywhere was better than here.

“Cut her off!”

She heard shouts go up behind her, heard boots on stone and did not look back.

“Get her!”

She ran harder as the boots thundered behind her. The gap was narrower than it had looked. She threw herself into the gap sideways.

Stone scraped her shoulder. Her dress caught on something and tore, but she kept moving, squeezing through until suddenly the wall fell away.

She felt the cold of the outer yard, saw the postern gate ahead, smaller, older, possibly unlatched⁠—

Hope hit her so violently it almost made her stumble.

“She's heading for the postern!”

“Nae!” She screamed as she ran.

The gate was twenty feet away.

“Got ye!”

She screamed and twisted.

She drove her elbow back without turning and felt the impact and the grip slip. She was running again, her lungs burning, the postern gate so close now. Her fingers stretched toward the iron latch.

Almost. Almost⁠—

A horse screamed and she froze. The sound came from beside her, raw and terrified. She turned just as a great white animal came out of the darkness beside her, wild-eyed and rearing, its hooves striking the air above her head.

“Get back!” Someone shouted behind her. She threw herself sideways.

A hoof struck the stones where her head had been. Her feet went out beneath her and she hit the cobbles hard—shoulder first, then hip—and the breath exploded from her lungs.

For a moment she could hear nothing but the ringing in her ears.

Move.

She had to move. Her fingers clawed against the stones. She pushed herself onto one elbow.

A hand closed on her ankle.

"Stop," a man's voice said, rough and out of breath. "For God's sake, stop."

She had not come this far to stop.

But her body was deciding things without consulting her, and what it decided was that the cobblestones were cold and the hand on her ankle was strong and the gate was still six feet away, and the distance between six feet and nothing had never felt larger.

She turned her head.

The man above her sneered, sweat dripping from his face.