At last, they reached a hidden camp, sheltered among the trees not far from the castle. Smoke curled thinly into the cold air, and several horses stood tethered nearby. Selene was dragged down from the saddle, her legs buckling as her feet struck the frozen ground.
A tall, dark man stood before them, his arms folded against his chest, his legs akimbo.
The man who still held her arm in a tight grip dipped his head before him. “Laird Aidan.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
She saw him for the first time, and the sight of him stole what little breath remained to her. He was striking in a harsh, dangerous way – broad-shouldered, with black hair whipped wild by the wind and a short beard shadowing his jaw. His dark eyes burned with fierce intensity, fixed upon her as though she were both prize and prey.
Yet beneath it all she sensed something fractured – a proud bearing warped by anger, a burning hatred clinging to him like a second skin.
He approached slowly, his boots crunching on snow, his expression shadowed by something close to triumph.
“Kenneth took from me once,” he said, his voice low and cold, carrying easily through the clearing. “He took what was mine, and he left me naught but ruin.”
Selene trembled, the truth beginning to take shape even as she fought it.
“Now,” Aidan continued, eyes never leaving her face, “I’ll return the favor.”
Her blood ran cold as his meaning became clear.
He smiled then – not with warmth, but with grim satisfaction. “Yer death will be a spectacle,” he said softly. “One that Kenneth will never forget.”
And in that moment, Selene understood with devastating clarity that her wedding morning had become a descent into a nightmare – and that her fate now rested in the hands of men who would show her no mercy.
She lifted her chin, drawing upon a courage she scarcely felt, and met his gaze with open contempt.
“You are a fool if you believe Kenneth will allow harm to come to me.” She kept her voice steady despite the tremor in her limbs. “He will come for me, and when he does, you will answer for this. Take me back to the castle at once.”
Aidan let out a short, derisive laugh. It held no humor, only a cruel, heedless, bitterness.
“Back?” he scoffed. “Ye think I would turn aside now, after all these years?” He stepped closer, his eyes darkening. “I havewaited fer this moment fer longer than ye ken. There were nights I stood upon the deck, the Sound of Sleat churning below me, and thought tae cast meself intae it and be done.” His mouth twisted. “It was only the thought of vengeance – of taking something from Kenneth as he has taken it from me – that kept me breathing.”
His words struck harsh blows to her spirits. A chill settled deep within her bones, far colder than the winter air. She answered him fiercely, refusing to yield ground, though fear clawed at her insides.
“You speak like a man already dead,” she said. “This will bring you no peace. Only more blood, more ruin. Let me go, and perhaps you may yet save yourself.”
Aidan’s expression hardened, any flicker of uncertainty vanishing. “Save meself?” he repeated quietly. “There is nay saving left fer me.”
They circled one another in the clearing, words clashing as sharply as blades might have done. Selene pleaded, threatened, reasoned – all to no avail. Each argument she raised only seemed to fuel his resolve, his resentment burning brighter with every mention of Kenneth’s name.
At last, the truth settled upon her with dreadful clarity.
Aidan would never rest. Not until Kenneth was made to suffer as he had suffered.
And she was the instrument by which he meant to do it.
The realization stole her breath. She was not merely a captive – she was bait. A means to draw Kenneth into a trap from which there would be no escape.
Aidan’s gaze followed her understanding, and a slow, terrible smile curved his mouth.
“I have planned this well,” he said, softly. “He will come fer ye. Of that, I have nay doubt. And when he daes, he will see with his own eyes what it costs tae cross me.”
Her heart hammered painfully as his meaning unfolded, each word tightening the snare around her.
“I will make him watch,” Aidan went on, his voice low and resolute. “Watch as I break ye. Watch as I take yer life, slow enough that he can dae naught but bear witness.”
Selene swallowed hard, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Terror surged through her – raw and overwhelming – yet beneath it burned a fierce, defiant resolve. If this was to be her fate, she would not meet it silently.
