Drawing a breath, Iris forced her thoughts aside for now. She was home. Her sisters were safe. Her life, as it was right now, would be all that she had hoped for it to be. In the eyes of her father, her brothers, and her clan, she had been a victor in the games and represented their clan well.
But in her eyes, she was a failure. She had chosen a path for herself, the one that was supposed to be the right one, but right now the path seemed to be clouded with thorns that pricked her heart open all over again.
It would get easier with time, but Iris doubted it would ever be better than what she had walked away from.
19
Six months later
James held the reins loosely in his hand, letting the horse pick its way through the rocky path toward the village. The air was crisp and cold, the heaviness of winter starting to settle in over the land. Soon there would be heavy drifts of snow everywhere, making the roads impassive for months.
Considering they were a few days from their clan’s borders, James could only hope that the snow would hold off.
It was oddly terrifying to be trapped in enemy lands.
“Well?” Matteau asked as he sidled his horse next to James. “Wot are ye feeling?”
James smirked. “Are ye in charge of mah feelings now, Matteau? Do ye think I’m going tae break down in tears because we are almost there?”
His friend eyed him cautiously as if that was exactly what he was thinking.
“I no longer know wot ye are thinking, James. Ye wilnae discuss it.”
“Which is where it should be,” he said, clenching his jaw. “I didnae come for her. I came for mah laird.”
Matteau snorted. “I dinnae believe ye, mah friend. Not at all.”
James kept his expression impassive, but deep down he didn’t blame him for not believing what he had just said. It wasn’t the truth at all. Well, perhaps not fully the truth. He hadn’t come for her at all. When his father had given him the option to come on the journey to Wallace land, James had debated on declining. The past six months had been difficult in more ways than one. She still haunted his dreams, and no matter how much he tried to move past the boulder in his chest, he hadn’t been successful in doing so.
Now he was closer to Iris than he had been since that fateful day, and his palms were slick with worry. What would she say once she saw him? Would she even acknowledge his presence, or was he destined to watch her yet crumble to pieces on the inside when she rejected him?
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Believe wot ye wish,” he finally said. “But I can handle this.”
“Should be a highly entertaining bout,” Matteau muttered as he urged his horse further the closer they got to the village.
It was no surprise that a group of warriors waited for them on the fringes of the village, no weapons drawn but their expressions telling James that they didn’t like the fact that they were there. He watched as Stephan Wallace rode forward to greet Irvine with a nod. The months had not been kind to the laird’s son, and for good reason.
The great Laird Wallace was dead, having passed away in his sleep.
“Mah brother welcomes ye tae his lands,” he stated, grief bracketing his mouth. “And bids ye tae come tae the keep.”
“Aye, we will do so,” Irvine replied, giving the Scot a nod.
Stephan angled his horse toward the keep and they were forced to follow, riding through the deserted village towardthe massive keep. Even the courtyard still bode the signs of a grieving clan, with no warm fires lit to welcome them.
James halted his horse behind his father’s and dismounted, allowing his eyes to finally drift to the family that awaited them on the stairs. Ian stood at the center, wearing the heavy mantle of a laird, flanked by two younger lasses that he supposed were his sisters.
She was not there.
He drew in a cold breath, straightening his shoulders. She had to have known he would come with his father, and she had chosen not to see him.
James wasn’t certain how he felt about that.
“Welcome tae Wallace Keep,” Ian said as Irvine reached the stairs.
Irvine greeted the young laird with a nod, placing his fist over his heart.
