She managed to nod, but she couldn’t bring herself to embrace him in return. He’d punished the man who had saved her.
The men dragged Kieran to the chains where the hostages had been kept, like he was a criminal. Stripped of his tunic, they locked his wrists in iron manacles. He didn’t fight them off, his gaze staring off into the distance. Beneath the air of calm acceptance, she sensed a terrible anger. Not toward her, but against Davin.
She wanted to go to him, to set him free. Her stomach churned, for she felt responsible for his imprisonment. And yet if she approached him now to say anything, she feared what Davin would do. Instead, she looked to him with an apology in her eyes, hoping he would see it.
But as she’d feared, he wouldn’t even look at her.
Inthemiddleofthe night, Kieran saw a cloaked figure approach him. Though most inhabitants of the ringfort slept, he knew who it was.
“You shouldn’t be here.” If Davin saw her visiting him, he had no doubt it would mean his death.
“Eat.” Iseult fed him fresh bread and tender pieces of meat. The scent of food only heightened the gnawing pain in his stomach. He ate, trying not to pay any heed to her. But each time her fingertips pressed beneath his mouth, he wanted to taste them. Though she didn’t mean anything, the act of feeding him became sensual.
He thanked God that chains were restraining him right now.
Kieran leaned forward, inhaling the fresh scent of her. A lock of hair fell against his cheek, and his body responded almost violently when she laid her face against his.
Iseult broke away, offering him mead from a clay jug. “I don’t understand why he did this. If it weren’t for you . . .” She shook her head and shivered.
“Leave me, Iseult.” He tried to suppress the need for her, to deny his body’s reaction. He wanted her to stay far away from him. His willpower was stretched to the breaking point when it came to her. How it had happened, he didn’t know. But right now, he wanted to kiss her, to feel the warmth of her body against his.
“You needed food,” she said softly. “And I wanted to thank you.” In the darkness, she was shadowed from him. He couldn’t make out her features, but his memory needed no reminders. His skin burned with dark needs, and he prayed he had the strength to keep her away.
He was no better than the man who’d stolen Branna from him. It had been over a year since he’d lain with a woman, and his body lacked all discipline when it came to Iseult.
She raised the mead to his mouth again. “You were a warrior once, weren’t you?”
“It was a long time ago.”
“I’ve never seen anyone fight like that before.”
He had no intention of revealing his heritage to her. “My past will lie buried, Iseult. Don’t ask me about it. Now go back to your home where you belong.”
She paled, but he offered nothing more. He didn’t want her thinking there could ever be anything between them. If that meant being cruel and forcing her to see the truth, he’d do it.
Davinwantedtopunchhis fist through the wooden palisade. Seeing Iseult’s beautiful face and the red swelling at her cheek and jaw had enraged him. When he’d seen her with Kieran, something inside him had snapped.
She’d insisted that the raiders had been the ones to hurt her, but all he could think of was punishing the man responsible for taking her from the ringfort. At the moment, he didn’t know when he’d release Kieran. Orifhe would release him.
Dawn rose across the ringfort, and Iseult had not spoken to him since the previous afternoon. Neither had she dined with him that night. The movement of men near the gates caught his eye, and Cearul dragged a body inside. He recognized the Sullivan colors.
He didn’t know how or when the prisoners had escaped, but likely it had happened after he and his men had gone to investigate the coastline. The guards had apologized, but when he’d found Iseult missing, his worry and anger had erupted.
Why had Iseult defied him? Why had she gone alone into the forest with Kieran, a man she admitted she didn’t like? His suspicions took root, and though he had the evidence to trust her, he wasn’t ready to release the slave.
His men brought in the dead Sullivan hostage, waiting for his orders. “Wrap the body,” he told the men. “We’ll send it back to the Sullivans at dawn.”
They nodded, following his bidding without question. Davin walked toward the land he’d shown Iseult the previous day. He imagined their home, and the sound of their children. He could visualize every detail.
For almost three years he’d been in love with her. She didn’t know that he’d come to visit her tribe on the night of Bealtaine, so long ago. He’d participated in the rituals, never taking his eyes off her beauty. Though she was a blacksmith’s daughter, he’d never seen a more breathtaking woman.
And when she’d taken a lover that night, he’d cursed himself for not speaking to her. Else, she might have chosen him instead.
He rested his forehead in his hands. She blamed him for chaining Kieran, and he doubted she would forgive him unless he set the slave free. He didn’t want to, for his suspicions would not be allayed.
Yet she’d been right. The bruises she’d suffered were not from Kieran’s hand.
With a heavy heart, he approached the mound of the hostages. Standing before Kieran, he unlocked the chains. “I let my anger get the best of me.” He wasn’t going to apologize to a slave, but intended to make a point. “You defended her, and for that I am grateful. But stay away from Iseult.”
