Page 10 of Trapped By the Exiled Bastard

Briana was unfazed. “She could have abandoned ye, more like. Ye’d have died if the lads hadn’t found ye.” She shrugged and stood up. “I’m goin’ tae the cookfire tae make sure Graeme hasnae ruined our supper. Join us when ye like. And perhaps ye could show yer prisoner a little mercy while ye’re at it.”

Keir bit back his retort, though it stung to let her walk away with a superior air, and even more so to admit that she was right about at least some of what she had said. He waited until she had turned the corner then stood, groaning at the dull pain in his side, before re-entering the cabin, muttering darkly to himself as he did.

Elin was still sitting where he had left her, perched on the end of the bed, her eyes red and raw from crying. She straightened her back and lifted her chin when he entered, the loathing and pride rushing to her expression in equal measures. It was no wonder that she had caught Eamon Grant’s attention, nor the attention of any man, but even her beauty was nothing compared to the way her gaze caught him now. Something shone in that look, a spark of life even beneath all of the darkness that drew Keir a step closer before he even knew what he was doing.

“What do ye want, bastard?” Elin demanded, her voice thick as she tried to hide her obvious sorrow.

Keir stopped. His tentative resolve to make peace shattered, and his anger reared its head again. Without thinking, he closed the gap between them and roughly grabbed her arm. “Never call me that again,” he hissed. “Never. Ye can either be here as me guest or as me prisoner. The choice is yers.”

“Yer guest!” Elin repeated, derision flowing from every breath. “Is this how ye were taught tae treat a guest?”

A sudden memory of his mother’s soft voice, so faint and yet so precious, flooded into his mind. He had been so young, so angry, and so ready to fight the men who whispered insults behind his mother’s back. But she had soothed him, whispering in his ear, reminding him that their words didn’t matter—that they were his father’s guests, and he should treat them with respect even if they showed none. On the other hand, when he’d told Theon about it, Theon had punched the other boy so hard he’d lost a tooth.

“What are ye smilin’ at?” Elin demanded.

“I’ve been taught many things, Elin. If ye stop bein’ so obstinate, perhaps I’ll show ye some of the good ones,” he replied. She opened her mouth to retort, but he interrupted her before she could. “Ye must be hungry.”

“I—what?”

“Hungry,” he repeated. He allowed himself the small pleasure of enjoying the confusion in her expression. “Come. Get up. I’ll leave ye unbound, but if ye try tae run, it willnae go well for ye. I’ll take ye intae camp and introduce ye properly tae the others, since ye’ll be here for a while.”

She raised an eyebrow. “As yer guest.”

Keir huffed something close to a laugh. “If ye behave. Do ye think ye can do that?”

Elin frowned but followed him as he walked out of the door. “And why would I eat anythin’ ye give me?” she asked. “What if it’s poisoned?”

Keir raised an eyebrow and looked at her over his shoulder. “Do ye think I’d need poison if I wanted ye dead?”

She shivered at his words, and he turned away again, his heart roiling with grim satisfaction and a guilt and foreboding that he pushed down and tried his best to ignore. Her fear was useful to him, but he found it more distasteful than he’d like.

“Come,” he ordered again, and walked out of the door, knowing that she’d follow.

As soon as they reached the fire, Elin let out a gasp and ran toward where Briana and Theon sat close together over the cooking pot. Keir watched without a word, his stomach clenching at the familiarity of the sight alongside its strangeness now that he had brought Elin here. Nearby, Graeme and Noah were sparring, but both lowered their weapons and turned to watch as well. Noah met Keir’s eye with a look that was a little bit too understanding, and Keir sharply looked away.

Elin knelt in front of Briana and took her hands in her own. “They make ye cook for them? How long have these brutes kept ye captive? What do they hope tae gain from ye? Dinnae worry, we’ll be all right. It will take some time, but—”

Briana smiled a little sadly and gently interrupted her. “Ye misunderstand. I’m nae captive, and there are nae brutes here. Keir said yer name is Elin, aye? I’m Briana MacKenzie, and this is me family.”

The casual use of the word struck Keir like a blunt club, staggering him. Family. Yes, Theon was his family by blood, and Graeme and Noah had been his brothers for most of his life, but they rarely used that word to describe themselves. Briana now bore his father’s name and, through her love for Theon, had claimed his clan and family as her own as well. Keir surprisingly found he did not resent Briana this, all he could think of at that moment was his mother and how she had never been able to claim the same.

“Yer…family?” Elin asked, sounding as dazed as Keir felt by the declaration.

Keir stared at the two contrasting women. Briana’s brown hair, tied up behind her head, contrasted with the bright blonde of Elin’s which had somehow not lost its shine on their journey. Where Briana was tall and slim, Elin was short and curvy, and while every step Briana took sang of regal composure and dedication, Elin’s aura was softer yet somehow more guarded. Against everything that his mind told him, Keir desperately wanted to know what she was guarding herself from. The wistful way she had said the word family made it clear she had her own story there, and his chest twinged as he suddenly understood what lay ahead of her even if she went free. Even if she was right and Eamon Grant loved her—though Keir doubted it—she was deluding herself if she expected a proposal of marriage. The life she longed for was the life of a mistress. A life of shame. Of marginalization. And for her children? The lives of bastards.

There was a short pause, then Theon spoke. “Ye’ll nae be hurt as long as ye’re here, Elin. Forgive us for yer bindin’s. We just had tae use caution until we understood the situation. Ye’re a welcome guest.”

Elin turned her distrustful glare on Theon. “I ken who ye are. I ken who all of ye are. If I’m tae be yer prisoner, then do me the favor of nae pretendin’ it is otherwise.”

Theon and Briana exchanged looks, then Theon turned a questioning gaze on Keir. Keir knew that look. It was the look that Theon had perfected over the years that meant, How are ye gonnae fix this mess ye’ve made, wee brother? Keir scowled and lowered his eyes, not wanting to face him quite yet. He didn’t feel like facing anyone.

Graeme approached. “Well, if ye’d tasted our cookin’ before Briana joined us, ye might have called us brutes correctly,” he said cheerfully. He spooned some of the food into a bowl and offered it to Elin, but she folded her arms and turned away. Unperturbed, Graeme winked and said, “Och, come on. We’re actually pretty good company once ye get tae ken us.”

Noah joined them and took the bowl that Elin had refused. “Dinnae be so forceful,” he scolded Graeme mildly. “Elin, ye should eat.”

“Nay. I dinnae want anythin’ from ye,” she snapped.

Keir’s jaw tensed, then he moved to join them all and sat down on Briana’s other side. “Elin. Sit. Eat. I’m nae askin’.”