“Ye know I did mourn yer death, but I dinnae think ye would mourn mine.”
“Ye tried tae kill me!” Ainslee shouted, clenching her fists at her sides. “Ye deserve tae die!” He had nearly ended her life and that of their clan. Though he was her brother, she would rather not be part of his life or even acknowledge the fact that he was her kin.
Their da would be so disappointed in the way Liam had been leading their clan.
“Well, ye will have tae pick this time, dear sister,” Liam continued as a familiar figure came into view. It was Arran, a rag stuffed into his mouth and his face bloodied. His arms were wrenched behind his back, and Ainslee cried out.
Not again! “What have ye done?”
Liam strode over to where his enemy was being forced to his knees. “What was needed to be done,” he leered as he pulled his dagger. “This is our enemy, Sister, nothing more.” He then held the dagger to Arran’s throat. “I am feeling somewhat generous this time. Ye have a choice. Yer life for his. What shall it be?”
Ainslee started to shake, tears streaming from her eyes. A life for a life. She could not let Arran die, not because of her.
Arran shook his head, his eyes wide, and attempted to speak behind the rag, but Ainslee tore her gaze from his. He would not suffer any longer. He had suffered far too much at the hands of her brother and it was time for the suffering to stop. She stepped forward.
“Mine. Ye can have mine as long as ye let him go.”
“As ye wish, Sister,” Liam said as he approached her, the dagger gleaming. Ainslee opened her mouth to scream as the dagger was plunged toward her chest, anticipating the pain of the sharp blade once more.
“Ainslee! Wake up!”
Ainslee blinked rapidly, Arran’s concerned face the first thing she saw.
“Ye’re alive,” she breathed, her throat aching. “Ye’re not captured.”
“Nay,” he said slowly, sitting back on his haunches. “Should I be?”
Ainslee pushed herself to a sitting position, shoving the hair out of her face. “It was just a dream.” It felt like her brother had been standing in front of her, threatening her life for Arran.
One that she had gladly given up if it meant that he would live. He had much more to live for than she had. He had his family, his clan, everything.
“What was yer dream, lass?”
Ainslee had forgotten that Arran was kneeling before her, his chest bare and his hair flattened on one side. He looked like a fallen warrior.
“I dinnae wish tae talk aboot it.”
His eyes met hers. “Ye will feel better if ye do.”
How could she tell him what her dream was about? Would he even care? “It was about mah brother. He had ye captured again.”
Arran’s eyes narrowed. “And then what?”
She swallowed. “I had tae choose.” The choice was still heavy on her heart, knowing that if she were faced with the same decision, she would always choose to give her life over his or anyone else’s. “I had tae keep ye alive.”
Arran made a noise deep in his throat, reaching up to frame her face with his hands. “Never,” he said roughly. “Never choose anyone else’s life over yers, Ainslee.”
“I had tae,” Ainslee told him. “Ye dinna deserve tae die by his hand.”
“Neither do ye,” Arran replied, his eyes searching hers. “And not for the likes of me.”
What Arran did not realize was that Ainslee was never going to allow him to be hurt again. Pulling out of his touch, she sighed.
“I’m sorry for waking ye.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “’Tis alright.”
It was then that Ainslee realized that Arran was there, in the bed with her. What was he doing in the bed with her?
