She ignored Matt’s calmly given shout as she wove through the trees toward the meadow.

Where in curses was Snowball? And Gesader? The panther was supposed to be her protector, and now was not the time for him to worry about being seen.

Winter broke into the meadow at a flat-out run, praying the snow wasn’t hiding anything to trip her, and shouted Gesader’s name. She was answered by Matt’s shout from behind her, only this time he sounded a bit frantic. And then she heard him roar Nay! at the same time something heavy slammed into her back, knocking her to the ground.

Winter tumbled through the snow in a tangle of flailing arms and feet and black fur. There was another violent impact that knocked a scream from her lungs as she rolled free to land facedown in the snow, the sound of a snarl and an even more angry growl rolling down the meadow away from her.

She looked up to find Matt and Gesader, only ten feet away, wrestling. Not wanting to leave her pet, but also not wanting to waste the opportunity he was so valiantly giving her, Winter scrambled to her feet and started running across the meadow again, this time in the direction of Tom’s cabin. Gesader could take care of himself, she decided. A man was no match for a leopard.

She skidded to a halt and looked back. But a drùidh? Could Gesader hold his own against the powerful Cùram de Gairn?

Winter saw the two of them were facing each other now, both crouched in a striking position.

“Don’t run, Winter,” Matt shouted without taking his eyes off his adversary. “He’s drunk. He’s wanting to chase anything that runs, and he might hurt you.”

Winter gaped at Gesader. Drunk? Her pet was drunk?

It was a trick, she decided. Matt was only trying to trick her. Winter turned and started running again toward the bottom end of the meadow.

“Nay!” Matt shouted.

Winter looked over her shoulder and saw Gesader pursuing her, moving at an alarming speed that was quickly closing the distance between them. She changed direction with her own shout of surprise, making Gesader lose his footing as he tried to take a passing swipe at her.

Winter was cleaned off her feet by Matt this time, but her landing was a lot less bruising as Matt wrapped her up in his arms and took the brunt of their fall. Before her head was even done spinning, Matt was on his feet and shoving her behind his back, putting himself between her and her snarling pet.

“Back off, Kenzie,” he snapped. “Before you hurt her.”

Gesader let out a roar that echoed through the meadow in bone-chilling waves, his tail whipping the air in anger.

“Go sleep it off, Kenzie,” Matt said softly. “And don’t come back until you’re sober and ready to apologize to my wife,” he finished, emphasizing the last word.

For Gesader’s sake, Winter suddenly realized, not hers.

The leopard gave another angry roar, then turned and started walking down the sloping meadow, his tail switching in agitation as he growled under his breath. Matt turned to Winter, and she stepped back from his own angry expression.

“Your choice,” he said roughly. “You walk back to the cave on your own, or I carry you back.”

Winter lifted her chin. “You called him Kenzie.”

“Aye, because that’s his name. Kenzie Gregor.”

Her gasp caused her to take another step back. “He’s your brother,” she whispered. “The first day we met, you mentioned you had business with your brother.” She looked down the meadow just as the panther disappeared into the woods, then back at Matt. “You didn’t come here for me. You came because of him.”

Matt slowly shook his head. “Oh, I came here for you,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.

“I sent Kenzie ahead with your cousin, MacBain, then followed as soon as I could.”

“But why?” Winter cried, holding her arms out in petition. “Why have you come here for me?”

He stepped forward, and before she realized what he was going to do, Matt captured her face in his broad hands and made her look directly into his eyes. “Because you’re the only one who can help me,” he said softly.

“H-help you what?”

He leaned closer, his dark, turbulent eyes only inches from hers. “Kill my brother,” he whispered. He suddenly straightened, took one of her hands, and turned and led her back up the meadow toward the cave.

Winter could do nothing more than walk beside him in silence. He hadn’t just said that. He couldn’t want to kill his own brother. And he surely couldn’t expect her to help him!

He’d gone mad, she decided. Cùram de Gairn was upsetting the continuum with his madness, and now he was trying to drag her down into that dark, hopeless void with him. She had to find a way to destroy him before he destroyed mankind.

Or…or she had to find a way to help him.

Neither option, however, was going to fix her broken heart.

Aye, though not very significant when compared to the fate of mankind, Winter couldn’t get past the fact that Matheson Gregor had broken her heart so badly she didn’t care if he and his drunken, traitorous brother rotted in Hades for all of eternity.

They continued back up the meadow, both in silence; Matt seemingly still angry at the panther, and Winter simply sad. But just as Matt led her into the cave, she had a sneezing fit so violent, she had to pull free and cover her face. Her head swam dizzily, her eyes watered with congestion, and her empty stomach clenched as if it were trying to climb up her throat.

“You’re catching a cold,” Matt said, leading her past his smoldering sleeping bag to the pile of blankets. He was about to help her sit down when he stopped, picked up one of the blankets, and held it up to let it unfurl in his hand. “What in hell happened to this?” he asked, staring at the scorched hole in the center of the blanket, then looking at her.

Winter’s already hot, congested face heated even more as she remained mute, refusing to explain yesterday’s debacle. She wasn’t about to tell a fellow drùidh that she was so inept she couldn’t even light a fire.

He smiled, tossed the blanket down, and sat her down on top of it. “I’ll heat up some soup,” he said, going over to one of the boxes near the far wall. “And see if we can’t roust that cold before it settles in. Flying isn’t much fun when your head feels like it’s about to explode.”

Winter stopped from wiping her nose on her sleeve and gaped at him. “I’m not flying anywhere.”

Matt opened a can of soup and poured it in a pot, then put the pot on a heated rock beside the nicely burning fire. “I still have a quality control problem at my Utah plant, and now a little matter of a wedding ceremony to deal with. I figure I can take care of both with one quick trip west.” He looked over at her and smiled. “It’ll be a corny little chapel on the Las Vegas Strip, but it will be legal.”

“I am not marrying you,” she said, carefully enunciating each word. “I didn’t marry you last night, and I sure as heck am not marrying you in a corny little chapel in Las Vegas.”

He shrugged. “It’s for your benefit, not mine,” he said, pouring the steaming soup into a bowl and bringing it over to her. He found two spoons, came back and sat down on the ground beside her, and ate what was left in the pot while she wolfed down her own soup in silence.

“I—I have to go to the bathroom,” she whispered the moment she was done, lifting her chin to counter the blush she knew was coloring her cheeks.

He set down the pot, stood up, and held his hand out to her. Winter ignored it and scrambled to her feet, sneezed twice, then strode out of the cave while wiping her nose on her sleeve again. He followed two steps behind her. She had just reached the edge of the woods when he stopped her by turning her around to face him. “Your word you won’t run, or I stay right beside you.”

She lifted her brow at him. “You’ll take my word?”