Page 37 of Trapped By the Exiled Bastard

Trying to push aside his own bitterness, Keir gathered what he’d need and returned to Noah. Most of his wounds were superficial, but there was one on his chest that was clearly at risk of a serious infection without proper treatment. Keir tore away what was left of Noah’s tattered shirt and cleaned the wound as best he could with the small flask of water he had on his hip, then set to work with the ingredients he’d gathered, mashing everything up into a paste with the hilt of his dagger against a broad leaf. When it was done, he smeared the makeshift poultice on the wound, then, using a strip of his overshirt, did his best to bind the wound.

It was shoddy work, but Keir prayed it would be enough, at least until they could reach a proper healer. He stared down at Noah’s pale face and something inside him crumbled. He closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands.

What if Noah died? What if Theon never returned? And where was Graeme?

“Ye’re nae gonnae weep, are ye?” a weak voice interrupted.

Keir started and uncovered his eyes to see Noah looking back up at him, still pale but very much awake. “Oh thank God. I thought—”

“So did I,” Noah confessed, wincing. “Where are the others? Graeme was fightin’ beside me, but I didnae see what happened tae him. Theon?”

Pressing his lips together, Keir said, “He left. He took Briana and one of the horses and he fled.”

Noah blinked in confusion. “That… doesnae sound right.” Then he looked around again. “Keir, where is Elin?”

Now the bitterness broke through the dam, spilling through his veins like a thick poison, clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe. Elin. Her pretty golden hair, her lovely curves, her gentle brown eyes. Her soft laugh, her understanding touch, the way she made his heart sing. Elin had betrayed them, betrayed him, and he’d let her do it. “She led Grant right to us. Met with him and showed him the way tae the village,” he said gruffly. He didn’t know if she’d led him on purpose or he’d only followed her, but it didn’t matter either way. The result was the same. “She caused this. I left her to go back to him, since that’s what she wanted. I’m sorry I brought her tae us.”

Noah stared at him, then let out a long, tired sigh. “Ye fool,” he said softly.

“I ken. I should never have trusted her,” Keir agreed.

Shaking his head, Noah held up a hand. Slowly, gently, Keir helped him up into a sitting position. “Nay, I dinnae mean that. Ye’re a fool if ye believe that she betrayed us on purpose, Keir. The lassie clearly loves ye. Grant would have found our camp soon enough anyway. They always find us. But Elin would never betray us. Certainly, she’d never betray ye.”

Love.

Keir knew love. He’d seen it between his mother and father, despite the circumstances that kept them from ever being together fully. He’d seen it between Theon and Briana. And he’d felt it in his heart that first time Elin had kissed him, that first time he’d felt at peace since the day his childhood had been destroyed.

“She doesnae,” he whispered, not because he didn’t want to believe it, but because he could not. Why would she love him? The bastard, the second choice, the angry, demanding lad who had always trailed after the others. What was he to a woman who had known the world.

“She does,” Noah said. “Come on. Help me up. We cannae just sit around here.”

Keir took a shaky breath and nodded. His body felt fragile from the revelation, his mind abuzz with questions, but he was able to haul Noah to his feet. “We need tae find the others,” he said.

“Aye,” Noah agreed. “And when we do, ye can ask Elin yerself.”

18

There were fifteen Grant men in total including Eamon, and Elin had nothing but contempt in her heart for each and every one of them. Some walked, carrying packs with them, while others rode. They had a prisoner with them, no doubt some unfortunate man from the village who Eamon had decided had spoken out of turn, but Elin knew better than to ask about him. Showing interest would only encourage Eamon’s spite.

“How are ye enjoyin’ bein’ back with yer master now that ye’ve crawled back tae him?” one of the men jeered. Elin ignored him and kept walking beside Eamon’s horse, her feet blistered and sore but her head held high.

He wasn’t looking down at her now, but she’d never forget the cruel victory on Eamon’s face when she had given herself up to him. He’d taunted her, mocked her, then told her that her punishment would be that she would walk all the way back with them. Only then would she have redeemed herself enough to please him as she was meant to. Disgust riled up in her at the thought of ever touching or being touched by him again, but if that was what it took to save that village, to save the Blades… to save Keir… then she’d do whatever it took.

“It’s rude tae ignore me men, Ella,” Eamon taunted from the horse. “Answer him.”

Elin clenched her jaw. “And if I dinnae? What can ye do tae me that’s worse than what ye already have planned? Just kill me if ye wish. It would save us all the trouble.”

Eamon laughed darkly. “Ye’ve nae idea what I have planned, sweetness. Ye’ll please me in ways ye never even kent were possible, whenever and wherever I wish it. Of course I’ll nae kill ye. But never forget that ye have nae power here. One toe out of line and we return tae burn down the remnants of that pathetic village ye gave yerself up for.”

She sucked in a breath and tried to ignore the fury that clogged her throat. “Forgive me,” she said through gritted teeth. She turned to face the soldier who had spoken and said, “I am, of course, grateful tae have returned tae me laird’s side.”

They kept walking, painfully slowly, until they reached a valley in the middle of four hills. Elin recognized it immediately; they were only a half day’s ride from Grant Castle. But the men were putting down their packs and binding their prisoner by hood and hand and feet, obviously preparing to settle for a rest. Some even went to the little burn and stripped off their shirts for a quick wash.

“What is this?” Elin asked Eamon as he dismounted. “Why are we goin’ so slowly? Surely ye wish tae return tae the keep at speed. Surely—”

Eamon cut her off by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. He pressed his lips against hers, and Elin went still, trying desperately not to recoil. When he released her, she felt sick. He winked at her and walked away to address one of his men.

“They’re in nae rush because it’s a trap,” a familiar voice said in a tone that was thick and heavy with pain but still somehow cheerful. “They’re baiting the others, hopin’ they come for me.”