“He didnae!” Eithne snarled. “He would never beg to the likes of ye.”
“He did,” Rory told her. “But nae until after one of me men slit yer pathetic brother’s throat in front of him.”
Me brother. Killian. Him too. I cannae bear this.
“Ye’re lying,” she cried, though she knew he spoke only the cold, horrible truth.
“Believe what ye like,” Rory said, moving back from her a little. He glanced at the ground where Eithne’s mother lay and sighed. “What a waste. She neednae have died. Why did the two of ye nae run off like yer sister did? Was it because ofye,Eithne? Areyethe reason that yer mammy lies dead?”
“Dinnae ye ever mention her again,” Eithne snarled, her voice higher in pitch as the anger pulsed through her veins. “I dinnae care who ye think ye are. I—”
“Ye’re nothing, nae anymore,” Rory told her softly, his grin terrifyingly white against his dirt-streaked face. “Yer daddy’s dead. Yer mammy’s dead. Yer clan’s gone. Revenge is mine, and ye’ve got nae choice. Ye’ll be me bride.”
Eithne shuddered as his hands snaked around her waist, pulling her close to him. His lips hovered just above her own. “I will nae,” she said.
“Ye will,” he said, touching her cheek again. “Ye’ll bed me and wed me, and our bairns will rule together.”
“I’d rather have me womb ripped from me chest and me legs tied shut forever than allow ye to touch me,” she spat.
A flash of anger crossed Rory’s face, and she was rewarded for her words by the back of his hand across her face. She went sprawling, her cheek burning as she landed in the dirt next to the cooling body of her mother.
“Dinnae touch her!” Neal yelled and ran forward. Eithne wanted to yell for him to stop, but she was too dazed, too dizzy, and the events unfolded in slow motion.
Rory looked at Neal incredulously, almost with amusement, then sidestepped. Neal stumbled past him in the dodge, and suddenly two of Rory’s men were there, holding him in place.
“Nay,” Eithne gasped. “Nay, dinnae, please.”
The men brought Neal forward, standing him in front of Rory.
“Brave, are ye nae?” the Laird said. Around him, his circle of men laughed.
“Braver than ye,” Neal retorted, then reeled back in pain as Rory punched him hard in the stomach. He doubled over, only still on his feet because the men were holding him up.
“Rory, leave him be. Leave him,” Eithne pleaded. She scrambled to her feet again.
“Stay back,” Neal commanded of her.
Rory glanced at her, then back to Neal, a slow smile unfolding on his face. “Ah, I see, I see. Ye love her, I think? Aye, that’s it. Ye want to be her husband. And she’s nae sure, but ye live in her heart as well. Aye, aye, I see it now.”
Eithne ran over to Rory, grabbing at his clothes. “Please. I’ll do anything ye want. I’ll wed ye; I’ll bed ye. I’ll have yer bairns. I’ll tell the other clans that ye’re our rightful ruler, just please,pleasedinnae hurt him.”
Rory put his fingers under her chin, forcing him to look up at her. “Ah, love,” he crooned. “It’s nice to see ye so passionate. Ye ken that I’ll do anything to make ye happy. All it’ll cost ye now is a kiss.”
“Eithne, dinnae—” Neal started but lost his breath as one of his captors punched him again.
“A thousand kisses if ye let him live,” Eithne said. She fought her instinct to recoil as Rory’s arm wrapped around her waist and drew her closer, and she wrapped her own arms around his neck. She didn’t want this, but if it were the only way Neal would live, she would do it.
Their lips met. It was her first kiss, and it was…wrong, all wrong. The way his mouth moved against hers made her want to scream, his demanding tongue like an infection her body wanted to drive out. But she held him, and she bore it because her only other choice was—
The sound that followed would haunt her dreams forever – the sound of steel tearing through flesh, the soft scream of a murdered man. Neal’s knees hitting the ground as he collapsed.
Eithne pulled back in horror to see Rory’s other hand extended, his sword through Neal’s sternum. Neal’s eyes were glassy as he looked up at her, tears and blood and agony drowning his face.
“Eithne,” he whispered, and then his eyes went blank. Rory withdrew his sword, and Neal’s body fell to the ground in its final farewell.
“Nay!” she screamed, half a word and half a wild wail that she could not control. She pounced at Rory, ready to kill him with her bare hands. But his strong grip restrained her, and then the men who had been holding Neal had her, and she was lost.
They pinned her to the ground as she sobbed and screamed and spat. Her face pressed into the cold dirt, and she turned to breathe and found herself staring directly into Neal’s dead eyes. Not far from him lay her mother, pale and cold.
