Through all of these contradictory stories, Ivor drew two solid conclusions. The first was that both of Killian’s sisters still lived. Killian had spoken of them often; his friend and confidante Eithne, the older who looked exactly like him and his mother except for her ice-blue eyes, and the younger girl Myrna, who had been just a wee bairn when Ivor and Killian first met.
He’d never met the girls, but the stories that Killian had told him flooded his mind. The gentle smiles that the mercenary’s friend had worn when he talked about his sisters were tattooed onto Ivor’s heart. From the stories, it seemed like young Myrna had fled with some of the servants to her mother’s people, but not Eithne.
There was no basis for the rumors of Eithne’s betrayal. He’d never met her, but Ivor knew that much. Killian had trusted his sister with his life – and that meant Ivor did, too.
This led Ivor to the second conclusion and what was quickly becoming the only mission that held any interest for him.
Eithne is somewhere in Kinnear Castle, held captive. And I’m gonnae get her out and make her safe.
* * *
Eithne pulled her brother’s cloak tighter around her shoulders. She’d cried so much that her heart felt dry in her chest. The unsent letters in her hand were all written in Killian’s neat script and now stained with the saltwater from her eyes.
One was addressed to Eithne herself, teasing her over some bet the two of them had had. It was part of a long series of notes they’d passed back and forth across the castle over the years.
And the last letter he’ll ever write to me.
The pain threatened to cripple her as she folded the letter and tucked it in her shirt near her heart. She knew some of the people to whom the others were addressed, while there were others she had never heard about at all. One for Neal, one for Myrna; there were letters to the sons of other clans and girls he may have courted.
One name, Ivor, repeated over and over, but Eithne could not place it. It sounded vaguely familiar, but she had been locked in this room a day and a night without food or water, her wounds untreated, the agony of her family and friends’ deaths beating her every time she tried to rest.
Me mither’s blood on me hands. Neal’s eyes going blank…
She doubled over, trying to push the agony out of her stomach, pulling the cloak tighter around her. What had happened to Killian? Had Rory told the truth about how he’d died? Had they really made her poor father watch the death of his only son?
It was too much. Too much for anyone.
The door suddenly creaked open, and she looked up, bleary-eyed through her exhaustion and sorrow, to see the face she could happily have never seen again. “Rory,” she said quietly. “What do ye want?”
“Ye, me bonny. I’ve only ever wanted ye. Maybe if ye’d have said aye in the first place, we could have avoided all of this mess,” he told her. He leaned against the doorframe, smiling at her so pleasantly that she wanted to scream. “I’ve come to give ye yer new choices.”
I cannae listen. He wanted power. He would have attacked whether I’d agreed to wed him or not.
But despite knowing that, the guilt chewed at Eithne. What if he hadn’t? What if Neal, her parents, Killian, all of her people had died because ofherchoice?
He waited for his words to settle. “As ye can see, if ye try and get out of that window there, ye’ll break every bone in yer body or worse,” he told her cheerfully, pointing behind her. “Ye’re welcome to try. That’s option one.”
Eithne swallowed. She’d stared out of the window for hours, trying to work out a way to make it out without killing herself, but Rory was right. It was impossible. “And me other choices?”
Rory’s grin widened. “Me preferred choice, and yer second option is that ye wed me. I swear I willnae touch ye until our wedding night, even, for I ken the importance of a woman’s maidenhood.”
“I’d rather die,” Eithne snarled. She tried to picture herself in his nude embrace and shuddered, bile burning her throat.
“Well, that’s yer third option,” Rory said, shrugging as though he didn’t really care. “I’ll make an example of ye and parade yer body in the streets if I have to.”
She knew it wasn’t a bluff. He would kill her if she refused to marry him, and he would smile while he did it. He desired her, maybe even loved her in his own twisted way, but not as much as he loved his own ego.
The worst part was that death didn’t sound like a terrible option. It would be an escape from this endless pain, from the sorrow and the physical agony. And in the afterlife, her mother and father were waiting. Neal and Killian and all of her friends were waiting. There was nobody, nothing to keep her here, except—
“Promise me ye’ll come out of this alive, Ennie,” Myrna begged as Eithne helped her onto her horse. “Promise, or I willnae leave.”
“I promise,” Eithne replied, kissing her cheek swiftly. “I’ll get out. I’ll survive and come back to ye.”
She’d sworn to her younger sister that she’d return. No matter how vile the prospect of living felt right now, she couldn’t leave Myrna alone. She needed to somehow get to her mother’s people and find the girl and remind them both that some of their family still lived.
“Well?” Rory said, folding his arms. “What option do ye pick? I hope it’s two meself.” As she watched, he fingered the sheath at his side – not the one that held his sword, but the smaller belt where he kept his dagger. She knew it was clean, and yet it shone red with jewels that looked like they were already covered in Eithne’s blood.
My blood. The blood of me family.
