CHAPTER ONE
Sophie wasn't quite expecting company that night.
One minuteshe was huddled on her narrow bed, lost in the depths of her silent misery, and the next she was staring wide-eyed at the giant of a man looming over her.
He was broad-shouldered,riddled with scars and staring down at her with a shadow over his face. Fear gripped Sophie's heart with its cold dark claws, fearful green meeting cold amber in an intense stare. Now, as his large hand clamped over her mouth, she felt true fear for the first time since her imprisonment began.
The stranger's eyes,amber and intense, bore into hers. "Hush, lass," he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "I mean ye nay harm."
Sophie didn't believe him.Not for a moment. Her brother had taught her well the cruelty of men. She thrashed against his grip,but it was like fighting against iron bands. Her heart pounded so fiercely she thought it might burst from her chest.
The man'sface was shadowed in the dim moonlight filtering through the narrow window, but Sophie could make out the sharp angles of his jaw, the stern set of his mouth. He was handsome, she realized with a start, in a rugged, dangerous sort of way. The kind of man her brother would have sneered at, calling him a brute, a rival chieftain not worthy of their ancient bloodline. Though they were all children of the Highlands, this man appeared to be cut from a rougher cloth than the Allens.
His face,weathered by wind and battle, bore the marks of a man who led from the front, not from behind castle walls. Eyes the color of steel glinted beneath a furrowed brow, sharp enough to cut through pretense and fierce enough to rally clan loyalty. His broad shoulders and scarred hands spoke of man who wasn't afraid to work, whether in field or fray.
It wasin that moment of stillness that Sophie heard the soft creak of the door. Her eyes darted to the sound, widening as she saw a familiar figure slip into the room.
Colette.
"Sophie, darlin',it's alright," her stepmother's soothing voice cut through the tension. "This man is a friend. We're here to help ye."
The strangerslowly removed his hand from Sophie's mouth. She remained silent, her vow holding even in the face of thismidnight madness. Her eyes, large and questioning, darted between Colette and the man who still stood too close for comfort.
Colette movedto sit on the edge of the bed, taking Sophie's trembling hand in her own. "I couldnae bear to see ye sufferin' any longer," she explained, her voice thick with emotion. "Yer brother... Mason threatened to flog ye if ye dinnae start talkin' again. I couldnae let that happen."
Sophie's chesttightened at the mention of her cruel brother. For a year, he'd kept her imprisoned in this very room, her only crime being the audacity to stand up for their clan members. She'd taken her vow of silence as a final act of defiance, but it had only served to infuriate Mason further.
Now,as Colette's warm hand clasped hers, Sophie felt a flicker of something she'd thought long extinguished. Hope.
"We're goin'to get ye out of here," Colette continued, squeezing Sophie's hand. "Tonight. But only if ye want to go. Do ye want to leave, Sophie?"
For a moment,Sophie hesitated. This room, this keep, had been her prison for so long. But it had also been her home for all of her twenty years. To leave was to step into a world of unknowns, of potential dangers far greater than those she faced here.
Yet to stay...to stay was to wither, to die a slow death of the spirit if not the body.
Slowly,deliberately, she nodded.
Relief flooded Colette's face.She stood and retrieved a large satchel from near the door. "I've packed some of yer things," she said, setting the bag on the bed. "Is there anythin' else ye want to take with ye? Ye willnae be comin' back here."
Sophie's handflew to her wrist, fingers brushing against the cool metal of her mother's bracelet. The familiar touch calmed her racing heart, grounding her in the midst of this surreal night.
She slid out of bed,acutely aware of the stranger's gaze following her movements as she crossed to her writing desk. With practiced ease, she found the secret compartment built into the drawer and retrieved the sheaf of papers within – her stories, her one escape during her long confinement.
As she turned back,clutching the papers to her chest, she found Colette watching her with a mixture of pride and sadness. "Ye always did have a way with words," she murmured. "Even when ye chose nae to speak them aloud."
Sophie alloweda small smile to touch her lips, the first in what felt like an eternity. Her stories had been her lifeline, her way of escaping the confines of her room even when her body remained trapped.
"This man,"Colette said, gesturing to the tall stranger who had remained a silent, imposing presence throughout their exchange, "is goin' to take ye somewhere safe. Somewhere yer brother cannae reach ye."
Sophie nodded,relief washing over her. But Colette wasn't finished.
"He's also agreedto help find ye a good husband."
Sophie's eyeswidened in shock. Marriage? The thought had never crossed her mind during her imprisonment. She'd been too focused on survival, on maintaining that last shred of defiance against her brother's tyranny. Now, faced with the prospect of a husband – a stranger – her stomach churned with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.
Colette must have seenthe panic in her eyes, for she quickly added, "Ye'll have a choice, Sophie. Ken has promised to introduce ye to several suitable men. Ye willnae be forced into anythin'."
Ken.So, the tall stranger had a name. Sophie's gaze flickered to him, taking in his broad shoulders, the way he held himself with quiet confidence. There was cold sternness in his eyes, she realized, along with something else she couldn't quite name. Determination, perhaps?
