"But the servants– "
"Had the misfortune of servin'a bastard who values power more than the people under his protection." Ewan's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking beneath his beard. "I'm nae sayin' it's right. I'm nae sayin' it's fair. But that's the world we live in, lass. And ye can spend yer energy being angry at me for it, or ye can direct that anger at the man who started this whole bloody mess in the first place."
Maia stared at him,her chest still heaving with emotion. He was right, she knew he was right, on some level. Her uncle had started this. Her uncle did value power over people. She'd lived under his cruelty for six years; she knew exactly what kind of man he was.
But that didn't makeit easier to accept. Didn't make Mollie any less dead.
"She was me friend,"Maia whispered, the anger draining out of her as quickly as it had come, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. "The only friend I had in that whole cursed castle."
"I ken."
"And she'sdead because of ye. Because ye wanted to send a message to me uncle." Her voice hardened again. "Did it work? Did he get yer message? Or did she die for nothin'?"
Something dark flashedacross Ewan's face. "We'll ken soon enough."
"That's nae an answer."
"I daenae havea different answer for ye now."
They staredat each other across the small room, the air between them thick with tension and unresolved grief and anger that had nowhere to go.
Finally,Ewan spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Ye're in nay position to criticize me, lass. Have ye forgotten that ye're me prisoner? That I could do far worse to ye than set fires and steal ye away in the night?"
Maia's breath caught."Are ye threatenin' me?"
"I'm remindin'ye of yer situation." He stood slowly, unfolding from the chair with predatory grace that made her pulse jump. "Ye may nae like what I've done. Ye may hate me for it, and God kens ye have every right. But that doesnae change the fact that ye belong to me now, until I decide otherwise."
He tooka step toward the bed.
Maia's heartslammed against her ribs, sudden and violent. She should be terrified, should be scrambling back against the headboard, putting as much distance between them as possible.
He was huge,towering over the bed, all hard muscle and barely contained danger. The way he moved reminded her of the wolves she'd read about in her books, graceful and deadly and utterly focused on their prey.
But she wasn't terrified.
Not exactly.
Her pulse was racing,yes, and her breath had gone shallow, but it wasn't fear making her body respond this way.
"Beingyer prisoner doesnae mean I've lost me mind," she said, and was proud when her voice came out steady despite the way her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest. "Or me ability to see right from wrong."
"Doesnae it?"Ewan took another step, close enough now that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. Close enough that she could see the amber flecks in his dark eyes, could smell leather and pine and something uniquely him, something that made her stomach clench in a way that had nothing to do with fear. "Because from where I'm standin', ye seem awful confused about a lot of things."
"What's that supposed to mean?"The question came out more defensive than she'd intended.
His gaze droppedto her mouth, lingered there for a heartbeat too long, then traveled slowly down to where she clutched the blanket against her chest. When he looked back up at her face, there was something heated in his expression that made her skin prickle with awareness.
"Ye'reangry at me for killin' yer friend," he said, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "But ye're also grateful I took ye out of that tower. Ye hate me for what I've done, but ye spent the entire ride here chatterin' away like we were old friends on a pleasant journey. Marvelin' at deer and foxes like I'd given ye a gift instead of makin' ye me captive."
Maia flushed,heat spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. "I was just… I was excited to be outside. That doesnae mean I'm grateful to ye."
"And ye'renae afraid of me." He leaned down, bracing one hand on the bed frame beside her hip, bringing his face level with hers.The bed dipped slightly under his weight, tilting her toward him. "Ye should be. Any sensible woman would be. But ye're nae."
She couldn't look awayfrom him. Couldn't move. Her whole body had gone tense, every muscle locked, but it wasn't fear making her freeze; it was something else entirely.
Something that madeher stomach tighten and her breath come faster. Something that made her acutely aware of every inch of space, or lack thereof, between them. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, could count the individual whiskers in his wild beard.
"Maybe I'm just toostupid to be properly afraid," she managed, though her voice came out breathier than she'd intended. Weaker.
