Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
She saw him for the first time, and the sight of him stole what little breath remained to her.
He was striking in a harsh, dangerous way – broad-shouldered, with black hair whipped wild by the wind and a short beard shadowing his jaw.
His dark eyes burned with fierce intensity, fixed upon her as though she were both prize and prey.
Yet beneath it all she sensed something fractured – a proud bearing warped by anger, a burning hatred clinging to him like a second skin.
He approached slowly, his boots crunching on snow, his expression shadowed by something close to triumph.
“Kenneth took from me once,” he said, his voice low and cold, carrying easily through the clearing. “He took what was mine, and he left me naught but ruin.”
Selene trembled, the truth beginning to take shape even as she fought it.
“Now,” Aidan continued, eyes never leaving her face, “I’ll return the favor.”
Her blood ran cold as his meaning became clear.
He smiled then – not with warmth, but with grim satisfaction. “Yer death will be a spectacle,” he said softly. “One that Kenneth will never forget.”
And in that moment, Selene understood with devastating clarity that her wedding morning had become a descent into a nightmare – and that her fate now rested in the hands of men who would show her no mercy.
She lifted her chin, drawing upon a courage she scarcely felt, and met his gaze with open contempt.
“You are a fool if you believe Kenneth will allow harm to come to me.” She kept her voice steady despite the tremor in her limbs. “He will come for me, and when he does, you will answer for this. Take me back to the castle at once.”
Aidan let out a short, derisive laugh. It held no humor, only a cruel, heedless, bitterness.
“Back?” he scoffed. “Ye think I would turn aside now, after all these years?” He stepped closer, his eyes darkening.
“I have waited fer this moment fer longer than ye ken. There were nights I stood upon the deck, the Sound of Sleat churning below me, and thought tae cast meself intae it and be done.” His mouth twisted.
“It was only the thought of vengeance – of taking something from Kenneth as he has taken it from me – that kept me breathing.”
His words struck harsh blows to her spirits. A chill settled deep within her bones, far colder than the winter air. She answered him fiercely, refusing to yield ground, though fear clawed at her insides.
“You speak like a man already dead,” she said. “This will bring you no peace. Only more blood, more ruin. Let me go, and perhaps you may yet save yourself.”
Aidan’s expression hardened, any flicker of uncertainty vanishing. “Save meself?” he repeated quietly. “There is nay saving left fer me.”
They circled one another in the clearing, words clashing as sharply as blades might have done. Selene pleaded, threatened, reasoned – all to no avail. Each argument she raised only seemed to fuel his resolve, his resentment burning brighter with every mention of Kenneth’s name.
At last, the truth settled upon her with dreadful clarity.
Aidan would never rest. Not until Kenneth was made to suffer as he had suffered.
And she was the instrument by which he meant to do it.
The realization stole her breath. She was not merely a captive – she was bait. A means to draw Kenneth into a trap from which there would be no escape.
Aidan’s gaze followed her understanding, and a slow, terrible smile curved his mouth.
“I have planned this well,” he said, softly. “He will come fer ye. Of that, I have nay doubt. And when he daes, he will see with his own eyes what it costs tae cross me.”
Her heart hammered painfully as his meaning unfolded, each word tightening the snare around her.
“I will make him watch,” Aidan went on, his voice low and resolute. “Watch as I break ye. Watch as I take yer life, slow enough that he can dae naught but bear witness.”
Selene swallowed hard, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Terror surged through her – raw and overwhelming – yet beneath it burned a fierce, defiant resolve. If this was to be her fate, she would not meet it silently.
But even as she stood unbowed before him, Selene knew with crushing certainty that Aidan’s vengeance was already in motion – and that Kenneth was being drawn inexorably toward the very horror she most feared.
Aidan ordered her captor to come forward. “Bind her. See tae it she cannae get free.”
He left her then, his satisfaction all too evident, as though the mere thought of what was yet to come filled him with dark delight. He paused at the entrance of the tent, casting one last look over his shoulder, his mouth curved in a gleeful, merciless smile.
“It willnae be long now,” he said. “The chapel bells will already be ringing. Kenneth will soon ken ye are gone.”
And with that, he turned away.
Selene was bound where she sat, her wrists tied tightly before her, the coarse rope biting into her skin.
Her ankles were secured as well, tethered to a stout stake driven deep into the frozen ground.
The confines of the tent closed around her, heavy with the smell of leather, damp earth, and smoke.
Outside, she could hear the muted sounds of the camp – men moving, horses shifting, low voices carrying on the cold air.
Two guards stood watch just beyond the tent flap, their silhouettes occasionally passing across the canvas. Escape seemed impossible.
Selene tested the ropes carefully, refusing to give in to panic. But the bindings were tight and unyielding, each movement sending a sharp sting through her wrists and ankles. She quickly stilled, knowing that struggling blindly would only weaken her further.
She forced herself to think.
There must be a way. There was always a way – even if she could not yet see it.
She drew in a slow breath and let it out again, steadying herself. Her eyes burned, grief and fear pressing hard against her chest, threatening to spill over. But there was no world in which she would allow Aidan the satisfaction of seeing her pain.
No tears fell, although they hovered close.
Bound and guarded, she waited – not as a victim cowering in fear, but as a woman resolved to survive, or to face her fate unbowed.
Alone with her thoughts, Selene felt the weight of time pressing in upon her, each passing moment a tightening knot.
Aidan was right – Kenneth would come for her.
He would not hesitate, would not pause to consider the trap being laid so carefully before him.
Love would drive him forward, straight into Aidan’s snare.
The knowledge both comforted and terrified her.
She closed her eyes briefly, breathing through the ache in her limbs, her mind racing. Every heartbeat carried her closer to the moment Aidan awaited so eagerly. If Kenneth was already searching for her, time was slipping through her fingers like melting snow.
She must endure.