Traherndidn’tmove,thoughhe should have. Right now, he despised himself for being so aware of Morren. Her dark golden hair hung against her face, her blue eyes filled with uncertainty. She deserved his trust and protection, not the unholy thoughts coursing through his undisciplined brain. Somehow, she’d kindled up feelings that he’d thought were dead, long ago.
Nothing in the world could have been more wrong. He needed to get away from her, to get out of this place. With every moment he spent at her side, his vengeance was becoming less about Ciara and more about Morren.
God above, what was the matter with him? He pulled his hand free of hers, furious with himself. Though he would never hurt her, right now he didn’t understand the strange pull between them.
“Are you hoping to die,” she asked, “after you’ve faced your enemy?”
He didn’t answer. The truth was, he didn’t know. Living each day was a torment in itself. Being here, around Ciara’s kinsmen, dredged up older memories that he didn’t want to face.
Morren reached out and quietly touched his shoulder. Her blue eyes met his with a steel determination. “You’re strong enough to overcome your grief over what happened. Just as I am.”
His hand dug into the wooden palisade wall so hard, splinters pierced his flesh. She’d seen past his fury to the aching center of pain in his heart. And with a light touch, she brushed her fingers against his shaved head. Down his bare cheeks, in a reminder that he couldn’t strip the last part of himself away.
He caught her hand in his, meaning to push her away. But the warmth of her palm seemed to ease the chill in his skin. He clung to her fingers, not knowing why.
Abruptly, she pulled back. “I should go.”
Before he could blink, she’d fled his side, and he was left standing like a fool. What in the name of Belenus had just happened? He watched her from the doorway, walking apart from the others. She glanced over at her sister but made no move to join Jilleen.
Gunnar’s words came back to prod him—You should do more than take care of her.
But it wasn’t that way between them. He’d brought Morren to safety, and once he was certain her clan would take care of her, he’d leave.
Trahern took several steadying breaths, gathering up his resolve. He’d speak to the otherLochlannachand find out what he could.
He spied Morren ahead, leaning her hand against the stone wall they’d been repairing earlier. Her face had gone pale, and she remained frozen in place. Was she in pain? Had the bleeding begun again?
But then he saw the cause of her anguish. Seated near one of the outdoor hearths was a young woman, one of the Ó Reilly’s who had wed a Dalrata man. Her husband stood beside her, and in her arms, the woman cradled an infant.
Morren never took her gaze from them, and Trahern released a curse. The raw pain in her eyes was unmistakable, as if she sensed she would never again bear a child of her own. He wanted to offer her comfort that, perhaps one day, she would become a mother.
If he had half a brain, he’d speak to Adham and get the man’s promise to look after her. But the thought of any man getting close to Morren made him want to snarl.
She’s not yours,he reminded himself.She needs someone else to take care of her.
As if in response to his thoughts, Morren looked back at him, seeming to draw strength. The rest of the people seemed to fade into the background, and he looked past her fears and pain. Aye, she was hurting. But beneath it all, there was still hope.
Trahern crossed the cashel, no longer caring that it was growing dark. He needed her to understand that her life wasn’t over. And an idea came to him, something that would make her feel better. “Walk with me,” he commanded, extending his hand.
Morren sent him a confused look but placed her palm in his. “What is it?”
He led her back outside, taking a torch from one of the iron sconces. “You’ll see.”
She followed him back to the fields where they had worked together. Although the vast majority of the earth was blackened from fire, the small section where they had cut away the ruin could be plowed under in the spring.
“Why did you bring me here?”
His fingers remained laced within hers, trying to offer her reassurance. “I saw you looking at the babe.”
She gave a slight nod, her face reddened against the glow of the torch. “I shouldn’t have. It only makes it harder to endure.”
“I wish I could have saved your child.” Though his words were in earnest, it would never take away her loss.
“It wasn’t meant to be.” Her shoulders lowered, but he wouldn’t allow her to pull her hand away. Not yet.
“There may be other children for you, one day,” he offered, squeezing her fingertips. “Your life isn’t over because of that night, Morren.”
“No man here would ever want me. Not after what happened.” A tired smile crossed her face. “You’re the only one who knows the truth. Even if it weren’t for Ciara, admit it. You wouldn’t want a woman who was used like that.”
