“I can promise ye I will try,” he replied. “And I can promise ye that I will nae let ye face this alone.”
Her chest tightened painfully. That was the problem. He would not step back. He would not protect himself from her. He would choose to stand beside her, no matter the cost. And she… she did not know how to refuse that without breaking something she could not repair.
Her gaze faltered, dropping briefly before returning to his.
“One night,” she repeated softly, as if testing the words.
Duncan nodded.
Elaina closed her eyes for a brief moment, steadying herself. But the fact that she felt relief frightened he more than anything else. Because it meant that a part of her had already chosen to stay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The air in the dungeon gripped at the throat, making it hard to breathe. Damp stone pressed in from all sides, the scent of earth and rust clinging heavily to each breath. Water dripped somewhere in the distance, in a sound that was slow and rhythmic, echoing like a steady reminder of time, of how long men had been left there to think, to wait, to break.
Duncan walked through it without pause. The flicker of torchlight cast long shadows across the walls, bending and shifting with each step he took, but his focus remained fixed ahead.
Beside him, Iain said nothing. Duncan rarely allowed anger to show. He did not raise his voice. He did not act without thought. He did not lose control, not as a man, and certainly not as a laird.
But this was different.
Betrayal.
Of all things, it was the one he could not abide, not from an enemy, not from a stranger and never from one of his own.
The iron door groaned as it was opened, the sound harsh against the otherwise suffocating quiet. Inside, the guard sat where they had left him, bound and bruised. His head lifted as Duncan entered, but he didn’t say anything.
The door closed behind them with a heavy thud. Duncan did not speak immediately. He simply looked at him. The guard shifted slightly under the weight of that gaze, though he tried not to show it.
“Ye were given a position of trust,” Duncan said at last, but there was no urgency or frustration in his voice. “Ye stood watch within me walls. Ye walked among me men.”
No response. The guard’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Duncan took a slow step forward.
“Ye were given me protection,” he continued. “And in return, ye sold it.”
Still nothing. Iain shifted slightly beside him, but Duncan did not acknowledge it. He was watching, studying, waiting.
“I will ask ye once,” Duncan said, although he already knew the answer to that question. “Who sent ye?”
The guard let out a short breath, almost a laugh.
“Nay one,” he replied.
The lie was immediate and careless. Duncan did not react. He had heard far better lies from far stronger men.
“Ye expect me tae believe that?” he asked.
The guard shrugged slightly, as much as his bindings allowed. “Believe what ye like.”
Silence stretched again. Duncan did not press. He did not raise his voice. He did not strike him. He simply let the quiet settle. Men like that expected anger and violence. They expected something they could resist.
Duncan gave him none of it. Instead, he stepped closer, just enough that the guard could feel the weight of his presence, the stillness of it.
“Ye allowed men intae me land,” Duncan said quietly. “Men who came tae take what was undermeprotection.”
The guard’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
Duncan tilted his head slightly, studying him.
