She stood her ground.
“I’m perfectly safe in this place,” she replied with a shrug. “Unless you think there’s something in this Keep I should be afraid of. Do you have reason to think that,husband?”
Ailsa barbed the last word with venom, and he did not reply. He gestured to his guards to take her back inside, and, as they seized her arms and steered her towards the Keep, she knew she had no choice. With two guards flanking her sides, she was led into the Keep, the dark scent of moss and charred wood filling the air as she made her way into her new home.
She had played with Callum as a little girl not far from the Keep, down by one of the burns that cut through the forest nearby, but she had rarely visited his home, only catching glimpses of it from afar every now and then. And, as she stood there in that moment, she could imagine why.
There was something ominous about this place, heavy, as though the walls were trying to hold up the very weight of the world on top of them, and she could not imagine how much longer they would hold. The dark corridors twisted out for what felt like an eternity, until she was led up a cramped spiralstaircase to a room that sat at the top of a spire, freezing with cold air, even though a fire had been lit in the hearth.
It felt like an age before she reached her chambers, and her heart fell further and further with every passing moment.
She turned to the guards, about to say something, ask for some food, a change of clothes, or a bath, but before she could, they had stepped outside the door, making it clear they had no interest in attending to her needs. They were not here for her; they were here forhim, to make sure she did not try to make a dash for it when she got a chance to.
The fire cast a slight warmth through the room, and she could make out a four-poster bed, freshly made up with blankets and pillows, sitting next to an arrow-slit window that looked down to the courtyard below. She peered outside for a moment, half-expecting to see Tavish down there, but instead, she was met with emptiness.
Sighing, Ailsa made her way to bed, brushing out her hair with her fingers and pulling off her well-worn travel clothes. A nightdress had been laid over the top of the covers, and she slipped it on quickly, feeling exposed if only for a moment.
She knew that she would have to get used to being exposed in far more profound ways now that she was here—now that Tavish planned to take her as his wife. However, she was doing her best not to think about that or exactly what it would mean for her in the long run.
Tears dripped onto the pillow where she laid her head to sleep, though she could hardly feel them dripping down her face. It was almost as though she was buckling beneath the reality of what she now faced, a life that she had never imagined herself capable of living. For so long, she had imagined her future with Callum at her side; friendly, sensible, solid, reliable Callum, who would never have killed as easily as his brother did, who wouldnever have spoken to her the way Tavish had but a few hours before.
By the time she fell asleep, her mind was full of her husband-to-be. Her dreams, restless, snaked off in a million different directions, all of them leading back to him, back to the man who would soon claim her.
What would he do if he had turned that passion, that fury, on her? His body against hers there in the forest; the feel of his strength protecting her, every inch of him driven to keep her safe. She had seen flashes of it, hints of what he was capable of, but she could only imagine how far they went, what they might turn into given the chance.
In her mind, her dreams spiraled to the pressure of his hands on her skin; the way he had held her when they had been dancing together; the way everything else seemed to have vanished around them as he had drawn her against him like he owned her. His mouth so close to hers, grinning but unyielding. All too aware of the effect he had on her, and yet, all too tempted to make her wait, and wait.
A kiss. It would all come together in a kiss. She could feel it now, the warm pressure of his mouth against hers, the way his teeth would catch on her skin, like a beast tearing chunks from its prey. She could almost taste it, a whisper of blood in her mouth, his tongue entering soon afterward. How his firmness would stir against her, like she had heard whispers of when she was young about the way men wanted women, the way that men claimed them.
Her legs parted, almost of their own accord, her head tilting in surrender to him as she allowed him to take all he wanted from her, his hands traveling down, down, down into some forbidden part of her, until?—
She woke with a start, the tears dried on her face, her heart thudding with a passionate insistence against her ribs. She couldfeel something left over from the dream, still clinging to her like salt after the tide had retreated down the shore. A warmth between her legs that seemed to speak to more than she would have liked to admit.
She reached up with slightly shaky hands and touched her lips, brushing her fingers across them and wondering what exactly it was that she had just felt.
And wondering if, just maybe, he could have felt the same thing, too.
She tossed and turned for the rest of the night, until at dawn a cheerful maid appeared with a bundle of fabric in her arms and a bright chatter that made her head throb.
“Ye must be the new lady!” she greeted her as she laid down the dress at the bottom of the bed. “I’m Martha, I was sent to help ye prepare for yer wedding today. Ye must be so excited!”
“Hardly,” she muttered, and the maid glanced at her, brow furrowing.
“Och, ye mustnae let yer nerves get in the way of the day!” she told her brightly, trying to reframe the matter as one of anxiety rather than distaste.
“I’m not,” she replied dryly, cocking an eyebrow. “It’s hardly been a long engagement.”
“Well, better to get to things quickly than leave ye waiting!” she offered, and Ailsa couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. At least someone seemed to be excited about the day ahead, even if she couldn’t find much passion for it.
“I wouldnae have minded a little more time waiting.”
“Ye’ll feel better once ye’re cleaned up, m’lady,” Martha assured her. “Here, let me help.”
Martha drew her a bath and helped her clean up, filling her in on everything she had to expect for the day ahead; the chapel where she would take Tavish as her husband, the weather, even the food that the kitchen had prepared for the feast after the fact.Ailsa was glad that the girl seemed so willing to talk because she could not drag another word from between her lips, her mind still stumbling on the fact that this was happening at all.
Martha helped her into her dress, carefully doing up the ties at her waist to make sure it was fitted to her body. Ailsa caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and her heart twisted when she saw herself. At a glance, she was the perfect bride, her long brown hair cascading over her shoulders, her blue eyes catching the light, bringing out the blue flowers embroidered around the neckline of the otherwise-simple dress. But nobody would know the turmoil within her, nobody could come close to understanding what she was truly going through, about to be handed off to a man she didn’t know and didn’t want to, either.
Two guards stood at the door in silence, both of them carrying their longswords. “Well, I’m glad yer Laird knows this wedding will be a battlefield,” she mused.
