His chest heaving with exertion and sweat trickling down his face, Magnus glared at McRae with unadulterated loathing. “Ye’ll pay for this,” he spat , struggling vainly against the men holding him.
McRae ignored him. “Well, lass,” he said, turning towards her. He was smiling—a cruel, satisfied smile that twisted his face. “Do ye see now? This is the true Magnus. Violent. Savage. Monster.”
The last word echoed in the silent room. Izzy’s gaze flickered between McRae and Magnus—one smirking with triumph and the other panting heavily, but still glaring at McRae in defiance.
The silence stretched as McRae regarded her with his triumphant smile. But all Izzy could focus on was Magnus’s heated gaze, the raw pain hidden deep within his ocean-blue eyes. She had seen traces of this pain before, flashes of self-loathing that would momentarily surface before quickly being masked again. But now, it was laid bare for all to see.
He met her gaze briefly and she saw shame burning in it before he looked down at the ground. She took a step towards him, but Magnus spoke suddenly.
“Stay where ye are, lass. Dinna come any closer.”
Her nostrils flared. “Why?”
He looked at her then and she saw ruin and shame in his eyes. “Because everything he says about me is true.”
A hush fell over the room. Izzy stared at him, trying to reconcile the man she knew with the monster McRae was claiming he was.
“And there ye have it!” McRae crowed. “Straight from the horse’s mouth! Now ye see what kind of man he really is?”
“Magnus...” Izzy whispered.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, admitting a middle-aged woman with hair the color of silver moonlight. She was the first female Izzy had seen in this place and was elegant in an austere kind of way, clothed in a faded tartan dress that swirled around her ankles.
McRae gave her a nod in greeting. “This is Mrs Dunbar, my housekeeper,” he said to Izzy. “She will see ye to the guest quarters.”
“I’m not going anywhere!”
“It is the middle of the night and ye have had quite a journey,” McRae replied. “No harm will come to ye. I’ve brought ye here only for yer own safety. Go with Mrs Dunbar.”
Izzy looked at Magnus, who gave her a slight nod. “Go, lass.”
“No way! Not without you!”
“I will be fine. Please. Go.”
Izzy opened her mouth to protest, but McRae spoke before she did. “If ye are worried about what will happen to Magnus, dinna be. He willnae be harmed, on this I give my word. I only wish to talk to him.”
“Like hell you do! I’m not going—”
“Isabelle,” Magnus said, his voice like a plea. “Go with Mrs Dunbar.”
“Aren’t you listening? I said no!”
McRae sighed. “Fine. I was hoping ye wouldnae make this difficult. Take her away.”
Two of McRae’s men grabbed Izzy’s arms and began dragging her across the room towards where Mrs Dunbar waited.
“Get your hands off me!” Izzy bellowed, trying and failing to kick them in the shins. “Let me go, you bastards!”
She might as well have struggled against the wind. They reached Mrs Dunbar, who turned and led the way out of the room. Izzy was dragged after her. As they reached the doorway, she looked back desperately over her shoulder at Magnus. He was staring after her, desolation in his eyes.
“Magnus!” her desperate cry echoed in her own ears before the door was slammed behind her, blocking him from view.
MAGNUS WATCHED ISABELLEleave with a taste like ashes in his mouth. How had everything unraveled so quickly? Only hours ago she had been in his arms, and he’d been filled with light and hope. Now he was filled with only darkness.
He pulled a breath through his nostrils, trying to still the despair that filled his veins. He could not afford to give into it. If he did, he was lost.
“Ye can let me go,” he growled at the men pinning him. It had taken four of them to hold him against the wall and many others lay insensate where he’d knocked them down. “I willnae hurt McRae.”
