Harald turned back to her, his gaze intent and controlled once more. “When I touch ye,” he said quietly, “it will be because ye have chosen me freely. Nae because the world frightened ye intae me arms.”
Enya nodded once, her throat working as she swallowed.
He saw the shift in her—the way her curiosity had turned into a desperate, silent countdown to their wedding night. Desire hadn't faded; it had been forged into something much moredangerous. Something that would burn the keep down when finally unleashed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sleep released her reluctantly, leaving her skin still humming with the memory of Harald’s heat. For the first time in years, she had let her guard fall, her body heavy with a trust she hadn't known she possessed. The warmth of the room felt like a sanctuary, a soft world.
Harald had walked her to her door himself, his presence a silent, towering weight that had somehow made the world feel small and manageable. He had lingered for a heartbeat, and she had seen the way his knuckles had whitened as he gripped the doorframe, sensing the raw, thrumming effort it took for him to let her go and remain in the hallway. Safe behind the heavy oak, Enya had surrendered to a deep, boneless sleep, more comfortable than she had been in years because she truly believed he stood guard over her soul.
Then, the air changed.
It was a shift in the room's weight—a subtle displacement that made the hair on her arms stand up. Her eyes remained closed, her mind desperately trying to crawl back into the safety of sleep.
It’s naething. Just the wind. Just the keep settling.
Her heart began a frantic, sickening thud against her ribs. Her hand moved with agonizing slowness, fingers inching toward the straw mattress, seeking the cold, honest bite of her dagger. She didn't breathe. She didn't move. She just felt the predatory stillness of the person standing over her.
Then, the world shattered.
The mattress dipped violently under a sudden, heavy weight.
Before she could scream, a hand slammed across her mouth, crushing her lips against her teeth with enough force to bruise. An arm like an iron bar pinned her shoulder into the bedding. Panic, metallic and sharp, exploded in her throat as she fought for a breath that wouldn't come.
Nay. Please, nay.
She bucked, her body a blur of frantic, survival-driven motion. She drove her knee upward with enough force to crack bone, but the shadow was ready. It shifted, its weight a crushing mountain that pinned her legs and dragged her half-off the bed, leaving her striking at nothing but thin air.
Fingers dug into the soft flesh of her arm like talons. Driven by a primal, animal terror, Enya lunged her head forward and sank her teeth into the flesh of the hand over her mouth. She bit down until she tasted the copper tang of blood, desperate to tear her way to freedom.
A curse hissed into her ear—low, vicious, and terrifyingly familiar.
"Traitor," the voice rasped, the sound a serrated blade in the dark.
Enya’s heart stopped. The sanctuary was gone. The nightmare had followed her into the one place she thought was safe.
The grip tightened. Her head snapped sideways as she was hauled upright, feet barely finding the floor before she was being dragged forward, her nightdress twisting around her legs. The room spun. Another figure moved near the door, already pulling it open.
Cold rushed in.
Her bare feet hit stone. The shock stole her breath, turned her blood to ice. She tried to scream then, tried to wrench free, but the hand over her mouth never loosened.
The man behind her leaned in, his voice cutting low and brutal against her ear.
“Dinnae.”
She was half carried, half dragged down the corridor, her shoulder striking the wall once, hard enough to send pain flaring down her arm. She clawed at the hand over her mouth, nails scraping skin, but it was useless.
Panic surged, full and violent, crashing through her chest as one terrible thought eclipsed all others.
This is it.
This was the moment every warning, every unease, every night spent staring at the ceiling had been leading toward. Her abduction.
Her heart hammered with a violence that felt like it would crack her ribs, each thud a frantic, suffocating beat. Her thoughts were no longer words; they were jagged shards of panic, white noisescreaming behind her eyes. She twisted with a strength born of pure terror, her body a whip of desperate muscle.
Another curse, closer this time, hot and wet against her skin.
