“Why have you come here?” she asked. Her voice sounded strangely loud in the empty chamber.
Colin’s smile deepened. “My reasons are personal.” He pushed off the door and took several steps into the room, making Aileana move back until she felt the wall behind her. Fear rose in her throat. She swallowed, pressing her palms flat to the cool stone. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, struggling, it seemed, against the confines of her ribs. She felt trapped.
“What do you want of me?” She fought to sound normal, to keep her tone calm.
“I don’t want much, Aileana MacDonell. Only to know you better.” He moved a step closer, and a smile flirted over his lips. “In the same way that my dear brother does.”
He stood less than three paces away now, and Aileana sensed the energy, the coiled strength that rippled beneath the surface of his massive frame. She feared him in a way she’d never feared Duncan. Even at the beginning, even that first day with Duncan, when she’d stood naked in the glen…even the first night at Eilean Donan, she’d known that he would never take pleasure in hurting her. She’d sensed that in him.
But Colin would; she could see that clearly. He’d enjoy every second of pain and terror he could make her feel.
Mustering the tattered remnants of her bravado, Aileana pulled back her shoulders, balling her hands into fists at her sides. She called upon a haughty stare, reminiscent of Morgana’s, and leveled it at Colin. “I’m in no mood for conversation. I’m tired, and I wish to sleep. Leave me.”
For an instant she thought her ploy had worked. Colin’s mouth slackened, and a shadow of doubt darkened his eye. But then he scowled and made a low noise in his throat, and Aileana knew she’d failed. Glaring at her like a wild boar preparing to attack its prey, Colin narrowed the distance between them.
“Do not think to toy with me, wench. You’re no Morgana.” He pierced her with his gaze, his stare hard and dark. “And I am no Duncan. Haven’t you unraveled it yet? You’re to serve as your sister’s peace offering to me—a boon to repay my efforts on her behalf. You’re my prize, to sample at my leisure. So if any commands are issued between us, they’ll be coming from me.”
Aileana couldn’t stop the nausea that rolled up from her stomach. Her mind spun through what he’d just said, but his words jangled like music out of tune. “Morganagaveme to you?”
“Aye, she did.” He grabbed her by the upper arms, pulling her to him. “And I never turn my back on a gift.”
Struggling to keep his mouth from finding her own, Aileana twisted and writhed. It was like struggling in the grasp of a demon. His chest felt immovable, his arms clamping her into position. Only she sensed that Colin didn’t plan to kill her right away. Nay, he intended to play with her first.
Frantically, she wedged her foot against the wall, trying to gain enough leverage to push him away. But he was too strong. He grasped a handful of her hair and yanked, making tears spring to her eyes and forcing her to arch sideways. Then he pressed his mouth to her exposed neck, lavishing her with wet, brutal kisses, and pulling back his lips to nip her with his teeth as he got closer to her ear.
“You’ve the taste of a glen breeze, wench,” he whispered, the sound grating harsh into her brain. “And your skin feels of silk. I wonder if it is as smooth elsewhere.” Without further warning, he dipped his hand into her tunic to clutch crudely at her breast. His fingers found her nipple with practiced skill, and he twisted the tender flesh, sending a lancing pain deep through her.
She stiffened. A burst of anger spiraled past the hurt, dispelling the shock she’d been feeling since this nightmare began. With a hiss of rage, she snapped herself upright, struggling and scratching like a wild cat in his grasp. She fastened her teeth onto his wrist, biting down hard, intent on gaining her freedom from his loathsome touch. Colin shouted and released her, but before she could dart away, he swung his arm and struck her a backhanded blow across her cheek.
A wall of agony fanned from her cheekbone into her head, making the chamber explode into fragments of colored light. She was only vaguely aware of the hard stone floor rushing up at her face before she landed against it with a dull thud. Her breath burst from her, and she tasted blood in her mouth. She lay on her belly, her palms splayed on either side of her head, as she gasped for air. Black warred with the sparks of color, threatening to overwhelm her and send her into blessed dark. To a place of escape, where she need not think. Where she need not feel.
But a tiny voice prodded, urging her to get up. To stay awake and fight the demon who assaulted her. It continued, relentless, until she could ignore it no longer. With a blast of pure will, Aileana pushed with her arms, trying to force herself to her knees.
Nothing happened.
A low, sinister breath fluttered soft against her ear, making the hair on the back of her neck prickle. For the first time, her mind cleared enough for her to notice that Colin’s thickly muscled arms were positioned on either side of her, pressing her into the cold floor. His groin pressed into her buttocks, and he began to grind himself lewdly against her. Bile surged into her throat. With a whimpering cry, she writhed in a renewed effort to escape.
“That’s good, lass. Fight me. I like a wench with spunk, though I wasn’t sure if I’d get such pleasure from you.”
As if from a distance, she heard her own cries. She struggled harder, feeling her thighs scrape along the rough stone beneath her. He began to yank her skirt above her hips.
No!Her mind screamed for salvation from this degradation. Her nails clawed at the unyielding stone, and the muscles of her legs burned as she fought to keep her thighs together. But Colin only dug his fingers deeper into the tender flesh there, forcing them wider apart.
His knees took the place of his hands, the heel of his palm pressing with unbearable pain into her back, keeping her pinned and helpless. Sobs ripped from her throat as she felt him position himself. She squeezed her eyes shut. An instant more and he’d accomplish his foul deed. He shifted, and then…
The weight was gone. Aileana heard a growling roar and a thump. She rolled instinctively to her side, her knees tucked to her chest. Her eyes flew open, but tears blurred her sight. Through the haze of hurt, she blinked, disbelief filling her as she stared at the man who stood between her and her attacker—the avenging god of destruction that towered over Colin.
Duncan stood primed for attack, his chest heaving. Shocked, Aileana realized that chains dangled from both of his wrists, still attached to manacles that had cut into his flesh so deeply that blood stained both of his arms like some kind of primal Celtic war markings. But it was the look on his face, the silver ice of his eyes that made her cringe and push herself back against the wall, out of the path of that gaze and its unfortunate quarry.
And when he finally broke the silence, she couldn’t help but shudder again at the doom in his voice.
“Prepare yourself for hell, Colin MacRae…because brother or no, I’m going to kill you for this.”
Chapter 26
Rage coursed through Duncan as he lunged forward and hauled Colin to his feet before pounding his fist into his brother’s face with a satisfying crack. Colin reeled, blood spurting from his nose, and Duncan landed two more bruising blows to his jaw.
Pulsing fury robbed him of reason. Robbed him of anything but the desire to kill this wretch for defiling the woman he loved. When his brother whipped a six-inch dagger from the sheath strapped to his waist, it had little effect in slowing Duncan’s charge against him. He tackled him, slamming him against the wall just as the dirk sliced home. Though it cut deep, their crashing momentum made Colin’s aim falter. Instead of sinking into Duncan’s chest, the blade gouged a burning path into his shoulder.
