Chapter 2
2
“ G et yer hands off me!” Willow cried out at last as the hulking man took hold of her arm and began to lead her from the carriage.
At first, she was able to easily slip free of his grip, the man’s fingers not sinking deep enough into her wrist to keep her there. But he was quick, much quicker than she might expect considering his size, and he gained hold of her arm once more.
This time, the pads of his fingers dug into the spaces between her tendons, and try as she might, Willow was unable to yank free of him. So, she was forced from the carriage, stumbling as the man dragged her down to the ground and nearly falling headlong into the grass.
“Let go!” She screamed, but Willow was brusquely hauled forward, and the man’s other hand came to her chin, tipping her face up.
“Ye may wish to reconsider yer thrashin', lass.”
Despite the parts of her that wished to fight until she could no longer draw breath, Willow looked forward. There before her in the field to the side of the road were her men. Swords held them immobile as they knelt in the grass. Several bled from wounds sporadically placed across their body, including Finley.
“Nay!”
She rushed forward, held back by the firm grip on her wrist and once more nearly slipping; her momentum abruptly ceased as the man holding her continued to be an immovable force.
From the side, a taller man, looking remarkably similar to the one who held her, approached with little ceremony or mercy. The man was certainly related to the one holding her, and he stood before Willow, invading the space just in front of her face, and glared.
With a glare, the newcomer addressed her. “What have ye done to Melissa?”
She recoiled, not understanding what the man was on about. There had only been a single prisoner brought in by Magnus and his men, and they had professed to have captured a spy from the Brahanne clan. A woman could not be who remained locked beneath the castle.
“I’ve nay idea what ye’re talkin' about.”
Her arm hollered internally as the man holding her yanked hard, forcing her to meet his cruel, demanding eyes.
“If ye lie, lass, I will tear the truth from ye without so much as battin' an eye.”
Willow’s blood chilled to ice in her veins, and her stare flared wide as she shook her head. “I dinnae lie to ye, Brahanne. I’ve nae heard of anyone called Melissa.”
Her words were tinged by the color of fear, and Willow desperately sought to steel herself. These men held her life in their hands and the lives of her men as well. She could not let the innocent souls be harmed for the error of her brother’s ways.
Wrath wormed through the man’s expression, reflected by the other who’d first asked her about the missing woman. They were clearly brothers, and Willow’s terror doubled down as she considered what could face her sister if these men attacked the castle.
Protect Lilith. Ye must protect Lilith.
“Ye will unhand me, sir. I’ve nae the information ye seek, and a penalty greater than ye can imagine will find ye should ye keep me men and me from our destination. Me brother will see fit to that.”
The enemy considered her, and Willow called on every ounce of venom she possessed to maintain the scowl on her face. Magnus wouldn’t care a lick what these men did to her. Still, her best chance to protect everyone here and Lilith at the castle was if they believed that the laird would deliver profound retribution were she harmed.
“Brother?” The man standing in front of her asked, his attention pinned to the man who held her arm.
So, I was correct.
“I’m liable to believe her, Damon. She isnae a good liar.” Willow wanted to rebuff, but the use of doing so was below nothing.
“Then we take her and kill the rest.”
Her stomach clenched, Willow’s pulse reaching the heavens. As her mouth fell open, the words of protest soared to the tip of her tongue. They could not arm these men.
“Ye—”
“We willnae kill them all, Damon.” Relief washed through Willow, and she sagged in the man’s grip as he faced her men. “There must be at least one left standing to deliver the message of the lady’s capture. And he shall only need to be able to speak, nae walk.”
Her eyes shot to the man who held her wrist in his iron hold. He stared at her men, the fires of wrath burning behind his blue irises. The Brahanne man would surely murder them all for simply being with her and a member of clan McCallum.
Willow’s eyes went to Finley, bleeding from his head and slumping forward as a sword sat level with his neck. No, no, no. This cannae be…
“Watch her.” The unnamed man dropped her wrist as he spoke to Damon, drawing his sword as he stepped forward across the field. “Daenae let her run.”
“Nay! Stop!”
The whole of those gathered halted and turned in her direction. Willow reached out toward her captor, her eyes burning with unshed tears. Swallowing, she forced down the horror and panic that threatened to drown her and took a step toward the largest man, the one clearly the leader of this group.
“Daenae harm them. I will go with ye—willingly.” The dark giant eyed her, relaxing his sword arm just a hair. “I ken ye wish to bring me with ye. Ye have plans for me. I will go with ye should ye promise to leave me men unharmed.”
“Willow, ye cannae do this!” Finley shouted, but she didn’t flinch or dare look at him, keeping her stare pinned to the dark Brahanne warrior.
“A promise,” she continued. “And another that should ye harm those men, that I will make yer life a living hell at every turn. I will kick. I will scream. I willnae give ye a moment of peace for the remainder of me days. And should I find the opportunity, I assure ye that I will ensure ye suffer the same fate as those men.”
Damon scoffed to her left, chuckling so darkly that it made Willow’s spine tingle with dread. “Ye cannae take this whelp in earnest, Keegan. Let us be done with this.”
So, it is Keegan, then.
Willow stood firmly as Keegan regarded her, his gaze unwavering as he took in her words. She held a dark chamber locked behind her heart at all times, hidden away by the sunny countenance that she wore like armor. Now, she let that abyssal void slip forward, shadowing every bit of her with the pain and fury that she had held onto for decades.
Ye willnae kill these men.
In a slow approach, Keegan crossed the grass. The long moments hung like weights over her until the man stood inches from her. Willow did not move, buckling down all the more. While Keegan said nothing, the severity that swelled behind the man’s strikingly blue eyes leveled at her with the force of an ax swing.
She was forced to swallow as Keegan studied her, and something stirred in her blood that replaced the ice with fire. It was alien and strange, and Willow silently reeled as it beat stronger with each passing moment.
And then he offered a single nod.
A flicker of relief touched her, and the breath slowly slid from Willow’s lips. Keegan, who certainly must be the Brahanne man-at-arms for the way he commanded those around him, looked past her toward Damon and the other men she’d seen in the distance just past him.
“Immobilize the guards but leave them otherwise unharmed. We willnae be followed.”
“Ye cannae be serious, Keegan!” Damon’s frustration was plain, but Willow dared not break the eye contact she still held with his brother.
“Move,” Keegan ordered.
It was clearly directed at everyone in attendance, and Keegan yanked on her arm when Willow did not immediately get into action. She was pulled behind him toward his horse. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw the Brahanne men go to each of hers and knock them unconscious with a strike from the butt of their swords.
Willow instinctively moved toward them, but Keegan grabbed her around the waist and hastily thrust her up onto the steed. When she looked down at him, shocked, the intensity of his stare burned into Willow’s soul, and she could not stop the tremble that slithered through her.
Worse, the man smirked as he climbed up behind her on the horse and seated himself right against her back.
She reeled. “Ye cannae expect me to ride with ye like this. I can employ one of the horses that accompanied us.”
Still, as she started to move, Keegan grabbed hold of her waist once more, his fingers biting into her sides and forcing her to halt in place. He leaned, the ghost of his breath touching her neck. Gooseflesh rippled over her skin, and Willow let out a strangled exhale as Keegan held her still.
“Now, now, ye promised to behave,” he whispered. “Ye cannae be looking for punishment already.”
Her thoughts emptied, the swirling inside her like a storm as her mind and body fought against each other for control. A terrible burn etched through her core, but fear still clung to her. Willow had given herself as a prisoner to one of the most vicious men she’d seen in her life.
If he was anything like her brother, Willow would need to remain on Keegan’s good side until she could take all this up with the Laird of Brahanne Castle.
As she stilled, chewing on her lip to keep the words locked behind her lips, a sadistic chuckle left Keegan, the motion rocking her gently.
“There now.” He gripped the reins around her, squeezing his legs around the horse to get her moving. “That’s me good lass.”