Page 6 of Trapped By the Exiled Bastard

He didn’t react, but she saw a small smirk cross his face as he tied a strip of cloth tight around his waist from his torn shirt. Annoyed, she realized too late that she’d given away the name that she had refused to say only moments before.

“I’ve nae intention of sellin’ ye or barterin’ ye or whatever it is ye think of me, Elin,” Keir told her. He winced, but then finished his bandage and looked up into her face. “We’re at the border already. A little further and I’ll let ye go, just as soon as we reach a village so that someone can help ye find yer way home. I’m nae the monster that ye think I am. I just need tae be long gone by the time ye reach any guards.”

Elin laughed darkly. He thought she was an idiot, then? Well, he was hardly the first man to enjoy taunting a woman with promises of freedom. She could not believe that she’d been such a fool that she’d ended up in this situation. “I’m supposed tae believe that ye’d just let me go? Just like that?”

“What else would I want from ye?” Keir asked.

She glared at him, her body tensing. “Now ye mock me and insult me! I have nae interest in yer cat-and-mouse games, bastard.” He went still at the word, but she pushed on. “Ye intend tae use me, aye? Then do it. Use me here and now, and then let it be done. Take yer fill and leave me be so I can go and find Eamon, and we need never cross paths again.”

Keir’s expression changed several times before settling on disgust. “Use ye? Ye think I need tae take an unwillin’ woman for pleasure? Nae, lass. If that’s what I sought, I promise ye, I could have done much better than this.”

His words fell hard upon her, leaving her unexpectedly embarrassed and ashamed. She had offered herself to him because she knew that was the only logical reason he would have taken her. Now he intended to insult her further by making her beg for the only thing that would let her go free from him?

He shook his head, his nose crinkling in distaste. “Use ye,” he repeated. “Disgraceful. Is this all yer precious Eamon has made ye believe ye’re worth? Are ye nothin’ but yer body, then? That’s—”

Elin’s eyes and heart flashed with hurt and anger and a deep fear she had spent a long time ignoring.

“Who are ye tae speak?” she snarled. “Dinnae ye speak of Eamon, or of me, Keir MacKenzie. MacKenzie! As though ye deserve that name. Ye’re nothin’. Less than nothin’. Ye’re a bloody traitor, born intae a family of traitors without ever bein’ equal tae them. Ye’re nothin’ but a monster and a bastard.”

Keir stomped closer to her, a darkness settling over him that seemed to overwhelm his entire body. His eyes narrowed and his jaw set, and he reached out and grabbed her chin, yanking her face until she was forced to stare directly up at him. “Listen, ye—” he started.

But just as a thrill of fear danced through Elin’s heart, Keir’s face drained of all color, and he swayed in place. His fingers slackened, and his arm fell, then his body fell forward, landing heavily on top of Elin. She caught him on instinct, his blood slick on her fingers as it soaked through his new bandage. It was impossible for her to hold him up, and she lowered him to the ground, holding her breath for a long moment.

Her captor was unconscious. He lay where she had set him, not moving at all. Elin stood staring at his still body, frozen, torn by indecision. This was her chance and she knew it. She should run.

But where would she go? Could she make it to a village alone? Could she find her way back to Eamon? Nightwind stood patiently waiting for her. She moved to climb upon his saddle but hesitated again.

What if Keir MacKenzie died here? Would the outlaws blame her for killing him? She’d heard of Theon MacKenzie and the others who traveled with him. What would they do to her if a MacKenzie died here and she rode away with his literal blood on her hands? Would they hunt her down?

And… could she really leave a man, even one as heartless as this, to bleed to death alone?

She had to make a decision. Her eyes darted between Nightwind and Keir’s still body, her heart in her mouth, her stomach tight. What could she do? What—

Nearby, leaves rustled as something moved through the dense bushes. She gasped, wondering if she had time to flee and knowing she didn’t. Instinctively, she went close to Keir’s unconscious body, praying he would wake up in time. She stood still, small and alone and bound and covered in Keir’s blood, when two tall figures stepped out from the shrubs.

“Well. What have we here?” a man’s deep voice said, the threat clear within it.

Elin screamed.

3

Keir’s dreams were a confusing tangle of memories.

Grown adults taunted him as a child, mocking him for being the product of his father’s whore. Theon forced him to look away as his father’s and mother’s bodies lay slaughtered on their bed. Graeme lay feverish, close to death, after a raid went wrong. Briana gaped at him as he turned his back on her from the trees. Noah screamed at him to run as the Cameron and McFarlane men moved in. And through it all, the smell of smoke, the flames that had taken his home again and again, singed his nostrils, mingling with the air, settling in his lungs.

“Keir.”

He sat on his mother’s knee, sobbing his heart out as she tried to explain why he could never be treated the same way as his brother, his young heart tearing in two as he tried to understand why his mother was excluded, and he was spurned by so many visitors.

“Keir, wake up.”

He drew back his fist and punched Theon hard, fury overwhelming him as he saw his brother towering over a helpless, sobbing woman and thought for just a moment he’d lost him forever.

“Keir!”

He jolted awake, coughing and spluttering, his body warm and the smell of smoke and herbs overwhelming him. Keir blinked a few times, staring up into the daylight, trying to understand where he was and what was happening. The last thing he remembered, he’d been heading toward Loch Aber, hadn’t he?

He blinked, groaning, his body aching.