"He's afraid," Amelia murmured as they urged their horses onward. "That's why he's actin' this way."
"He's a bampot," Enya muttered, but there was no heat in it. Just exhaustion.
They rode in tense silence for a while, the forest growing darker around them. Enya could feel her brother's anger like a living thing ahead of them, could sense the guards' unease. She shouldn’t have pushed him. She knew better.
But she also knew they should've stopped an hour earlier.
"Enya."
Finley's voice cut through the quiet, and this time there was something different in it. Something that made her spine straighten.
"Aye?"
"Ride beside me."
It wasn’t a request. Enya exchanged a glance with Amelia before urging her horse forward, drawing level with her brother. His profile was hard in the fading light, his jaw set.
"Ye need tae understand somethin'," he said without looking at her. "This marriage... it isnae what ye think it is."
Enya's heart skipped. "What dae ye mean?"
"I mean the Hawk of Lewis isnae takin' a Cameron bride out of obedience tae the Crown." Finley's hands tightened on his reins. "He's takin' ye because it puts him one step closer tae our lands."
"The Pact is meant tae bring peace."
"The Pact is a lie." The words were low, vicious. "Faither kent it. I ken it. And soon, ye will too."
Enya stared at him. "Ye cannae ken that."
"I ken the Norse killed our faither. I ken they've raided our coasts fer decades, claimin' tribute and blood. I ken that nay piece of paper signed by a king will change what they are." He finally looked at her, and the fury in his eyes stole her breath. "Raiders. Conquerors. And now they're bein' handed our daughters like prizes."
"Then why send me?" The question came out sharper than she intended. "If ye believe this is all a trap, why deliver me straight intae it?"
Finley's smile was cold. "Because ye're goin' tae help me end it."
The forest seemed to close in around them. Somewhere behind her, Amelia's horse stumbled, and a guard cursed softly. But Enya couldn’t look away from her brother's face.
"What are ye sayin'?"
"I'm sayin' ye're goin' tae marry the Hawk of Lewis. Ye're goin' tae smile and play the dutiful bride. And ye're goin' tae watch him." Finley's voice dropped lower. "Every meetin'. Every decision. Every weakness. Ye're goin' tae learn his plans, his routines, his secrets. And ye're goin' tae tell me everythin'."
Enya's mouth went dry. "Ye want me tae spy on me own husband?"
"I want ye tae protect our clan." The correction was swift. "I want ye tae give us the advantage when Harald shows his true nature. Because he will, Enya. And when he daes, we'll be ready."
"This is madness."
"This is survival." Finley caught her horse's bridle, forcing her to stop.
The guards halted around them, close enough to hear but pretending they couldn’t. "Ye think I want this? Ye think I want tae send me own sister intae a Norse stronghold? Faither died because of them, and I'll nae lose our lands the same way."
Enya's throat was tight. "And if ye're wrong? If this man isnae plannin' anythin'?"
"Then ye'll have naethin' tae report, and we'll all live happily ever after." The sarcasm was bitter. "But we both ken that's nae goin' tae happen."
"I cannae."
"Ye can." Finley released her bridle, his expression softening just slightly. Just enough to remind her he was still her brother beneath the laird. "Ye're clever, Enya. Cleverer than half the men in our clan. Ye notice things others miss. That's why I need ye tae dae this."
