Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Ibarely have time to flinch before a figure lurches through the doorway, snatches Callum’s collar, and jerks him away with startling strength.
“No!” she shrieks. Everything happens too fast. She shifts, draws back—
Oh, crap. She’s going to hit me. I shrink into the chair but there’s nowhere to go.
Callum shouts for her to stop. To wait. Her gaze snaps to him, locking tight. Finally, she lowers her arm.
“I told you I could do it,” she says, voice cold.
Callum exhales sharply. “But you didn’t. It’s not right, Donag.”
Donag. The name echoes in my mind, strange and sharp.
“Who are you?” she demands, leaning over me.
I tuck my chin, pressing deeper into my seat. “Who am I? Who are you?”
Callum moves toward us, but Donag’s body brackets mine, blocking him. She clicks her tongue as she studies me. Up close, she’s younger than I thought. Thirty-five, forty at most.
Her eyes narrow. “Answer me,” she snarls.
A thin blade of fear slides between my ribs. My mind scrambles for some version of reality where this makes sense.
I got lost. I passed out.
This should be fixable. But it’s not. Because this woman is looking at me like she’d skewer me if she could.
Callum tries again, but Donag angles her body like she’s daring him to push past. The firelight casts wild shadows across her face. “Who are you?” she demands again.
My pulse kicks into a gallop. “I’m the person who’s leaving.”
I go to button my sweater—only to realize it’s gone.
Everything in me goes still.
My head whips to Callum. “Where’s my sweater?”
He gestures to the hearth, where it hangs by the fire, drying.
“You were soaked through—” he begins.
But before he can finish, Donag whirls from me, snatches it, and hurls it into the flames.
“No!” But it’s too late. There’s a smoky whoosh as flames swallow it whole. “That was my only sweater!”
I spring to my feet, but the moment I stand, a chill cuts up my calves. I glance down. My feet are bare on the bitter-cold dirt floor.
Dread shudders through me. “What did you do with my shoes?”
Callum speaks gently. “’Tis for the best. ’Twill keep you safe.”
Safe? Safe from what?
I need to get out of here. But before I can move, Donag clamps her hand around my arm. I force myself not to tremble. Don’t let her see you scared.
My voice comes out firm, even. “You need to let go. Right now.”
She tightens her grip, then snatches a fistful of my hair. I claw at her, throwing a desperate look at Callum…but he just stands there.
Donag yanks my head toward the glow of the hearth, tilting to study me better. Shadows carve deep into her face. Her expression shifts.
Recognition.
“Ah,” she sighs, like she’s just solved a great puzzle. “You’ve hair of the devil.” Her fingers tighten. “I ken who you are,” she whispers. “You’re her child. Grown up.”
I twist free and back away. “What the hell does that mean?”
Donag just smirks.
I shake my head, disbelieving. “You have got to be kidding me. This is about Janet?”
When Callum’s sharp gaze cuts to me, I know the answer. “Please don’t tell me you know her too.”
He doesn’t reply. But his face says everything.
Something heavy sinks in my chest. “Who are you people? How do you know Janet?”
Donag tilts her head, studying me with a sneer. “We all ken Janet.”
She steps closer. Her movements are slow, deliberate, as her eyes flick over me from head to toe. “A Jezebel like her, are you?”
A what?
For a moment, I’m too stunned to react. Then rage burns through the fear. “Watch your mouth,” I snap.
A harsh laugh escapes her. “Acting so proper.” Another step. Then another. Too close. “Acting so pretty.”
Her bony finger lifts. Pokes me in the chest. Once. Twice. “There’s nae doubt whose loins you sprang from.”
I slap her hand away. “You don’t know anything about me.”
Her eyes gleam. “No?”
Something deep in my bones screams: Leave. Now.
I summon my calmest, most reasonable voice. “Look,” I say carefully. “If my mother did something to you, join the club. Do you think I can control the woman? If you have a problem with Janet, she’s staying at that hotel near the loch.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. Stay upright. Stay steady. I lift my chin. “As for me, I’m going.”
Donag clicks her tongue. “You cannae leave.”
She says it so simply. Like it’s not even a question. Then she turns. Lifts a heavy wooden bar. And slams it across the door.
The sound cracks through the room, echoes through my skull. I freeze.
Donag turns back, eyes glittering in the candlelight.
“Your name,” she says, voice flat. Emotionless. “What is it?”
My throat works around a swallow. I can’t seem to process. Can’t seem to move. My brain keeps circling back to the sound of that bolt sliding into place.
I was lost. I got cold. I passed out.
I feel like I should be able to change one of those things and fix this. Undo it.
But I can’t. I’m trapped. And Callum seems just as stuck as I am.
This woman wants something from me.
I swallow hard. “You can’t keep me here.”
Donag steps forward. “I said I want your name.”
My mouth is too dry to form words.
Before I can even try, Callum steps in front of me. “Her name is Rose.” His voice is low. Steady. Protective.
I exhale. Okay. So I’m not alone in this.
“I’ll nae let you hurt her.” Callum’s voice is quiet but firm.
Donag tilts her head. She barks a sharp laugh. “Rose!” she crows, like the name itself is a joke. She says it again, slower this time, rolling it over her tongue like something sour. Then her voice drops, low and eerie. “A curious name to give a bloom wished dead on the vine.”
Dead. The word hits with a lightning crack of clarity.
This isn’t just about Janet.
This woman is dangerous.
I force out my calmest, steadiest voice. “I’ll go back to the hotel and get Janet. It sounds like you two have a lot to discuss.”
Callum latches on immediately. “You wanted Janet to come home,” he says to Donag, voice careful, coaxing. “You wanted the Campbell laird to forget his grief.”
His gaze flicks to mine, just for a second. And somehow, I know exactly what he’s telling me.
Hold on. I’m going to get you out of this.
My throat tightens. I nod. Barely.
Callum turns back to her. “How could Rose possibly help with this?”
Donag doesn’t answer. She just stares at me, something shifting in her expression.
“I’ll nae ignore fate,” she murmurs.
She flicks her gaze over me, assessing. Deciding.
“She’s not as bonnie as her mother.”
The insult lands harder than I’d like. I bristle, muttering before I can stop myself, “Roses have thorns.”
A startled laugh bursts from Callum. Abrupt. Like it escaped before he could stop it.
Donag whirls, eyes flashing.
Then she backhands me.
Pain explodes across my cheek, hot and bright. I yelp, staggering back, hand flying to my face.
What the hell?
I’ve never been hit before.
Callum’s face darkens. He steps between us, voice like steel. “I warn you, Donag.”
She peers around him to glare at me, rigid with anger. “You’ll not bait my Callum,” she snarls. “He’s an innocent.”
I press my lips together. I know better than to argue with someone this far gone.
Instead, I drop my voice into something dull and measured. “Look,” I say, “I’m sorry I bothered you. Janet’s probably waiting at the inn right now. You can—”
“I’ve changed my mind.” She gives me a slow, hungry smile. “I don’t want Janet anymore. I want you.”
“No,” Callum growls, his voice vibrating with something dangerous. He grabs Donag’s arm. “You said only Janet. I’ll nae let this girl suffer.”
Donag wrenches from his grip. Her voice cracks, raw. “I want them all to suffer.”
Her hand flies to her mouth, like she wasn’t expecting to say it. Like it just ripped from her. A single tear slips from her eye, and she scrubs it away, face contorting with something caught between anguish and fury.
And for just a second—just a flicker—she looks like a girl. Young and hurting.
Then it’s gone.
She hardens. Straightens.
And when she looks at Callum, her voice is iron.
“’Tis only you and me now, lad. We must protect what we have left. It comes down to blood. Blood and kin and clan.”
Callum steps forward. “I ken your pain, Donag.” His tone softens, just a fraction. “You crave vengeance, and though I mayn’t agree, I do understand.”
She flinches.
“But creating more suffering won’t ease your own,” he continues. “This wasnae your plan.”
Donag stares at him, voice turning to ice. “I mean to distract the Campbell laird.”
Then her eyes flash to me, lips twisting with satisfaction. “A new plaything will make him forget Janet soon enough.”