But even as she stood unbowed before him, Selene knew with crushing certainty that Aidan’s vengeance was already in motion – and that Kenneth was being drawn inexorably toward the very horror she most feared.
Aidan ordered her captor to come forward. “Bind her. See tae it she cannae get free.”
He left her then, his satisfaction all too evident, as though the mere thought of what was yet to come filled him with dark delight. He paused at the entrance of the tent, casting one last look over his shoulder, his mouth curved in a gleeful, merciless smile.
“It willnae be long now,” he said. “The chapel bells will already be ringing. Kenneth will soon ken ye are gone.”
And with that, he turned away.
Selene was bound where she sat, her wrists tied tightly before her, the coarse rope biting into her skin. Her ankles were secured as well, tethered to a stout stake driven deep into the frozen ground. The confines of the tent closed around her, heavy with the smell of leather, damp earth, and smoke. Outside, she could hear the muted sounds of the camp – men moving, horses shifting, low voices carrying on the cold air.
Two guards stood watch just beyond the tent flap, their silhouettes occasionally passing across the canvas. Escape seemed impossible.
Selene tested the ropes carefully, refusing to give in to panic. But the bindings were tight and unyielding, each movement sending a sharp sting through her wrists and ankles. She quickly stilled, knowing that struggling blindly would only weaken her further.
She forced herself to think.
There must be a way. There was always a way – even if she could not yet see it.
She drew in a slow breath and let it out again, steadying herself. Her eyes burned, grief and fear pressing hard against her chest, threatening to spill over. But there was no world in which she would allow Aidan the satisfaction of seeing her pain.
No tears fell, although they hovered close.
Bound and guarded, she waited – not as a victim cowering in fear, but as a woman resolved to survive, or to face her fate unbowed.
Alone with her thoughts, Selene felt the weight of time pressing in upon her, each passing moment a tightening knot. Aidan was right – Kenneth would come for her. He would not hesitate, would not pause to consider the trap being laid so carefully before him. Love would drive him forward, straight into Aidan’s snare.
The knowledge both comforted and terrified her.
She closed her eyes briefly, breathing through the ache in her limbs, her mind racing. Every heartbeat carried her closer to the moment Aidan awaited so eagerly. If Kenneth was already searching for her, time was slipping through her fingers like melting snow.
She must endure.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Kenneth waited in the chapel with Callum and Father Mulcahy. The thrill of anticipation that had carried him through the morning had begun to fade. Selene should have been here by now. He told himself she was merely delaying, fussing over her gown, perhaps allowing Maureen and Elsie to make unnecessary adjustments to her hair or veil.
It seemed she did not share his concerns.
But then, of course, he had not informed her of Aidan’s imminent threat.
Shifting his weight, he glanced yet again toward the chapel doors. He resisted the urge to pace. It would not do to appear unsettled – not there, not then.
He turned sharply as hurried footsteps suddenly echoed outside on the cobblestones. The chapel doors swung open and Maureen and Elsie entered, breathless and pale. Their eyes darted aboutthe chapel, confusion plainly written on their faces. Unease stirred sharply in Kenneth’s chest.
Where is Selene?
Gathering his cloak, he hastened down the aisle to meet them.
“What is it?” he demanded urgently, keeping his voice low. “Why is Selene nae with ye?”
Maureen sucked in a breath and exchanged an anxious glance with Elsie, before replying.
She explained how they had been summoned to the dining hall.
“Thinking there must be some trouble with our decorations,” she went on. “We left Selene in her chamber tae wait fer our return.”
“And?”
