The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. Outside, true darkness was finally settling—that brief window of full night that came so late in a Highland summer. The castle had grown quiet. Most of his household had retired for the evening.
But sleep felt impossible.
His mind kept circling back to Hazel. The devastation in her eyes after Archie had revealed the truth. The way she’d trembled in his arms this morning, trying so hard to be strong.
She was lovely enough to make a man do foolish, rash things.
He took a long swallow of wine, welcoming the burn down his throat.
“Quite a day.”
Alec’s voice cut through his thoughts. His stepfather sat in a high-backed chair near the window, long legs stretched out before him, his own cup of wine dangling from one hand. The firelight caught the grey threading through his blond hair. He watched Craeg with quiet assessment.
Craeg grunted in response, not trusting himself to say more.
“Three men sent to murder a woman because of a seer’s warning.” Alec shook his head slowly. The whole castle had heard the news now. Hazel’s parentage was no longer a secret. “I never warmed to Macquarie but didn’t take him for an imbecile.”
Craeg snorted. “Or a shitweasel?”
“No.” Alec swirled the wine in his cup, studying the dark liquid. “The question is … what will ye do about it?”
Craeg’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know yet.”
That was a lie. He knew exactly what hewantedto do—sail to Ulva with every warrior he could muster and put a blade through Hamish’s throat. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t prove to the world that he was his father’s son. He’d nearly lost control today; he couldn’t do that again. A chieftain couldn’t act on rage alone. There were alliances to consider. Politics. The safety of his clan.
His betrothal to Isla.
“Those men in yer pit,” Alec continued. “They’re proof of Macquarie’s intentions. Witnesses who could testify to his … murderous intent.”
“They could.”
“And yet, ye haven’t decided what to do with them.”
Craeg shot him a sharp look. Alec’s expression remained neutral, but there was a knowing in those blue eyes. The bastard could always read him too well.
“I’m thinking on it,” Craeg muttered.
“Mmm.” Alec took a slow sip of wine. “And Hazel?”
Craeg’s hand stilled on Faolan’s head.Here we go. The wolfhound whined softly, sensing his tension. “What about her?”
“She’s under yer protection now.”
“Aye.”
“Which complicates things.”
“I’m aware.” The words came out harsher than he intended. He drained his cup, set it down on the mantle with more force than necessary. “She’s innocent in all this. I won’t let Macquarie … or anyone else … harm her.”
Silence stretched between them. The fire popped, sending up a shower of sparks. Faolan lay down, settling his great head on his paws.
“Ye care for her.”
It wasn’t a question. Craeg’s shoulders tensed. He should deny it, should lie. To protect himself—and Hazel—from scrutiny.
But this was Alec. The man he trusted with his life.
“It doesn’t matter,” Craeg said finally.
