"For now,maybe. But happiness that depends on havin' nay other options, that's nae true happiness. That's just makin' the best of a bad situation."
After Leon leftto organize the raid, Ewan sat alone in his study, staring at MacMahon's letter.
Worthless.Useless. A burden.
The words madehim want to commit violence. Made him want to ride to Castle MacMahon and drag Callen Ferguson out of his chair by his throat, make him take back every cruel word he'd ever said about Maia.
But beneath the fury,beneath the righteous anger, there was something else.
Possession.
Maia was his now.MacMahon had made that clear by refusing to negotiate for her return, by declaring her worthless and unwanted. He'd given up any claim to her, had effectively told Ewan to do whatever he wanted with her.
And what Ewan wanted,what he'd been wanting since that first night in her tower room, was to keep her.
Not as a prisoner.Not as leverage. But as?—
Mine.
The word echoedin his head, primal and possessive and entirely inappropriate. She wasn't a thing to be owned, wasn't property to be claimed. She was a woman who deserved freedom and choices and a life of her own.
But God,he wanted to keep her anyway. Wanted to wake up every morning knowing she was here, safe and protected and happy. Wanted to taste her lips again and again until neither of them could remember what it was like to be apart.
It terrified him.This wanting. This need, this overwhelming need to claim Maia, to mark her as his, to ensure she never left—it felt dangerously close to his father's madness.
But it'snae the same.I daenae want to hurt her. I want to protect her. I want her to be happy.
Still.The intensity of his feelings was unsettling.
Ewan stoodand moved to the window again, looking out at the courtyard below. He could see Kian playing with some of the other children, their laughter drifting up. Could see servants moving about their tasks. Could see?—
Maia.
She was crossingthe courtyard with Aisla, both women carrying baskets of what looked like wool. They were laughing aboutsomething, their heads close together in the way of friends sharing secrets. As Ewan watched, Maia said something that made Aisla double over with laughter, and Maia's whole face lit up with joy.
She looked happy.Genuinely, truly happy in a way he suspected she hadn't been in years.
Because she's here.Because she's free of her uncle. Because ye gave her that.
He turned awayfrom the window and picked up MacMahon's letter again, reading those cruel words one more time.
Then he fedit to the fire, watching it curl and blacken and turn to ash.
MacMahon had called Maia worthless.Had declared her a burden he was glad to be rid of.
Well then.If MacMahon didn't want her, Ewan would keep her.
And God helpanyone who tried to take her away from him.
18
"Maia." Ewan's gaze settled on Maia, and something in his expression made her heart skip. "I need ye to come with me, lass. There's somethin' I want to show ye."
"What is it?"Maia asked, curiosity immediately piqued.
"A surprise."The corner of his mouth curved up slightly. "Come on. It's waitin' in the great hall."
Maia glanced at Aisla,who just shrugged and grinned. "Best go see what he's plannin'. The laird doesnae usually bother with surprises unless it's somethin' good."
