Chapter 4
Murdock was halfway across the courtyard, his bloodied sword still in hand, when the sound of running footsteps echoed through the night. Multiple sets. Leona’s heart lurched in her chest.
More guards.
A figure burst into the courtyard, flanked by at least a dozen armed men, their torches blazing against the darkness. The man at the front was tall and muscular, with long blond hair that caught the firelight as he ran. He wore the same colors as Keith, bore the same sharp features.
Leona’s stomach dropped.
Ragnall. Her other cousin had always been Keith’s shadow.
“After him!” he shouted, his voice raw with fury. “After him now!”
But even as his guards moved to obey, surging toward the stable gates where Murdock had disappeared into the shadows, his attention was already shifting.
His eyes scanned the courtyard in one devastating sweep, taking in the bodies of six guards sprawled across the stones, the blood pooling beneath them in dark, spreading lochs.
And Keith’s body, chest still open where Murdock’s blade had plunged through.
“Keith!” The word tore from the man’s throat like a wound, primal and agonized.
He dropped to his knees beside his brother’s corpse, his hands hovering uselessly over the fatal wound. They trembled in the torchlight, reaching and then pulling back as if he couldn’t bear to touch what remained. His shoulders shook.
Leona stood frozen, still pressed against the courtyard wall where she’d stumbled after Keith had grabbed her.
Her throat ached where the dagger had pressed, and her mind felt sluggish, trapped in the horror of what had just unfolded.
The violence. The blood. The way Murdock had moved through Keith’s guards like death itself.
The way he’d walked away without looking back.
Ragnall’s head snapped up, and his eyes locked on her. They were green, like Keith’s. But while Keith’s eyes had held cruelty and calculation, Ragnall’s burned with something rawer. Grief. Rage. Hatred.
“Ye did this.” His voice shook with barely contained fury. “Ye helped him escape, and now me brother is dead.”
Leona’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Her mind raced, searching for something to say, some explanation that might defuse the violence she saw building in his expression.
“I didnae—” she started, but he cut her off with a sharp gesture.
“Didnae what?” He rose to his feet, fists clenched at his sides. “Didnae unlock his cell? Didnae lead him through the castle? Didnae stand by while he butchered me brother like an animal?”
“I didnae mean for this to happen,” Leona managed. “I only wanted—”
“Wanted what? Freedom?” He spat the word like a curse. “Ye were to be Keith’s wife. Ye were to be the lady of this clan. And ye threw it all away for what? A monster who kills without feelin'?”
Leona’s hands curled into fists. “Keith was nay saint. Ye ken what he was. What he did.”
“He was trying to make this clan great again!” Ragnall’s voice rose, echoing off the stone walls. “Everythin' our faither worked for, everythin' Keith planned, it was all for the clan. For our people. And ye destroyed it.”
He took a step toward her, and her back pressed harder against the wall. There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to run.
“I’ll nae let him down,” he said, his voice dropping to something more dangerous.
“Everythin' Keith planned, everythin' he worked for, I’ll see it through. The clan will be great again, and ye…” He took another step, close enough now that she could see the tears streaking through the grime on his face. “Ye’ll marry me instead. His dream will come true through me.”
The words hit Leona like a physical blow. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Just when she thought she’d escaped one nightmare, another rose from the ashes of the first.
But this time, something inside her snapped.
The fear that had paralyzed her shattered, replaced by pure, incandescent fury.
She’d risked everything tonight. Had freed a prisoner, had watched him kill six men and her tormentor. Had stood in a courtyard soaked with blood and chose to survive.
She wasn’t going to bow to another Gilmore. Not ever again.
“Like hell I’ll marry ye.” The words came out steady and sharp, ringing with a conviction that surprised even her.
Before he could respond, before the shock could fade from his face, she turned on her heel and ran.
Not toward the gates where Murdock had escaped.
That way was blocked by guards, by torches, by men who would drag her back to Ragnall without hesitation.
Instead, she ran back into the castle, her feet flying over stones she’d walked across a thousand times.
Behind her, Ragnall’s voice boomed with rage, “Stop her! Stop her now!”
Leona was already through the door, already racing down the corridor toward the keep’s interior. Behind her, she heard the sounds of pursuit. Boots pounding and voices shouting. The castle coming alive with alarm bells and running feet.
But she had one advantage. One thing Keith and his brother could never take from her.
She knew every secret passage, every hidden door, every route her father had shown her as a child for exactly this kind of emergency. He’d called it her 'rabbit’s warren', a network of servants’ corridors and forgotten passages that honeycombed the castle’s bones.
Leona ducked through a tapestry, into a narrow passage that led behind the Great Hall. The sounds of pursuit grew muffled, then faded. She kept moving, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her mind racing.
Rufus. She needed to get to Rufus.
Her fourteen-year-old brother was the rightful heir to their father’s seat. But he was still a boy, gangly and awkward, no match for Ragnall’s ambition or his sword. If she left him here, if she ran and saved only herself, Ragnall would use him. Control him. Or worse.
She reached her chambers and slipped inside, barring the door with shaking hands. The room looked exactly as she’d left it hours ago, before everything had fallen apart. Her bed neatly made. Her belongings arranged on the chest. As if the world hadn’t just turned upside down.
Leona moved quickly, her hands steady now that she had a purpose. She grabbed a worn traveling cloak from the wardrobe, her mother’s silver necklace from the jewelry box, and a small pouch of coins she’d been saving. Not much, but it would have to be enough.
A soft meow made her turn.
Nyx emerged from under the bed, yellow eyes glowing in the lamplight, her black fur bristling with agitation. The cat always knew when something was wrong.
“Come on, girl,” Leona whispered, scooping up the feline and tucking her into a satchel. “We’re leaving.”
Nyx settled into the bag with surprising compliance, as if she too understood the urgency.
Using the servants’ passages again, Leona made her way through the castle’s hidden veins. She moved carefully now, listening at each corner for sounds of pursuit. But the passages were silent, forgotten by everyone except her and a handful of servants who’d served her father faithfully.
Rufus’s room was in the east tower, far enough from the main keep that she prayed the chaos hadn’t reached him yet. She emerged from a hidden panel in the hallway and moved quickly to his door.
It was already cracked open, and she could see him inside, his ear pressed to the wood, his young face pale with fear. His red hair stuck up at odd angles, as if he’d been running his hands through it.
“Leona?” He spun around as she entered, relief softening his features. “What’s happenin'? I heard the bells and people shoutin', and I thought—”
“We’re leavin',” she cut in. Her voice came out harsher than she had intended, but there was no time for gentleness. “Right now. Get yer warmest clothes and anything ye cannae live without.”
“But where…” Rufus’s voice cracked. “Where are we goin'?”
“I’ll explain on the way.” Leona grabbed his traveling cloak from the peg by the door and thrust it at him. “Move, Rufus. We daenae have much time.”
For a moment, he just stared at her, and she saw the conflict in his expression. The desire to demand answers. To assert himself as the man he was trying to become. But then he looked at her face, at whatever he saw there, and simply nodded.
“Aye. Give me a moment.”
He moved quickly, stuffing clothes and a few precious belongings into a pack. A wooden sword their father had carved for him when he was seven, a book of Highland tales, and his belt knife.
They slipped back into the passages, moving like ghosts through the castle’s skeleton. Nyx’s head poked out of the satchel, her ears twitching at every sound. The alarm bells had stopped, but voices still echoed through the halls, distant and muffled by stone.
In the lower levels, near the stables, they encountered two guards.
Leona’s heart stopped, her hand flying to the dirk at her belt. But as the men’s faces came into view in the torchlight, she recognized them. Duncan and Gregor. Both grizzled veterans who’d served her father since before she was born.
Duncan’s weathered face contorted with sadness as he took in their traveling cloaks, their packs, the desperate look in Leona’s eyes. He shook his head slowly.
“We heard what happened, me Lady,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “The whole castle’s heard by now. Keith’s dead, and his brother has sworn to finish what he started.”
“Duncan, I…” Leona’s throat tightened.
“Ye daenae need to explain, lass.” Duncan glanced at Gregor, who nodded. “There are others still loyal to yer faither’s memory. Men who remember what this clan was like before the Gilmores poisoned it with their ambition.”
“We’ve prepared horses for ye,” Gregor added, gesturing toward the stable door. “Provisions, too. Food, water, blankets. Enough to get ye far from here.”
“Go quickly,” Duncan urged. “Before Ragnall organizes a proper search. He’s half-mad with grief right now, but he’ll remember ye soon enough.”
Leona grasped his weathered hand in both of hers. “Thank ye, Duncan. I’ll never forget this. Either of ye.”
“Just stay alive, lass.” Duncan’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “And come back when the boy’s old enough to claim what’s his. This clan needs a true Gilmore, nae Keith’s mad brother.”
Minutes later, Leona and Rufus were galloping into the night, the horses’ hooves muffled by moss and heather. Nyx was tucked securely in Leona’s saddlebag, only her head visible as she surveyed their escape with feline disapproval, her yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.
Behind them, torches flared to life along the castle walls. Voices shouted commands. Leona could hear Ragnall’s bellow even from this distance, could imagine him organizing men, horses, a proper pursuit.
But by the time they mounted up, she and Rufus were already gone, swallowed by the darkness and the wild Highland landscape.
The moon was barely a sliver, hidden behind clouds, and the terrain was treacherous. But Leona knew these hills and valleys. Her father had taken her riding since she was old enough to straddle a horse.
They rode hard for an hour before Rufus finally spoke, his voice tight with fear and confusion. “Leona, where are we goin'?”
She glanced at him, at the young face set with determination despite the terror she knew he felt. He was trying so hard to be brave. To be the man he thought she needed him to be.
“Away from here,” she said. “Somewhere Ragnall cannae reach us.”
“But where?” he pressed. “We cannae just ride forever. We need… we need a plan.”
He was right, of course. They couldn’t simply flee into the wilderness and hope for the best. They needed safety. Protection. Somewhere Ragnall wouldn’t dare follow.
As they rode, Leona’s mind flashed unbidden to Murdock Lyall. She could still see him in her mind’s eye, standing in that courtyard soaked with blood, his sword dripping, his expression empty of everything except cold efficiency.
He’d saved her life. Whether he’d meant to or not, whether he’d done it out of protectiveness or simple opportunity, he’d killed Keith. Had freed her from that nightmare.
More than that, he’d given her something without meaning to. A destination. A direction when she had none.
She looked at Rufus again, at the way he sat astride his horse with growing confidence, his spine straight despite his fear. He deserved better than running forever. Better than hiding in the wilderness while Ragnall claimed what was rightfully his.
“We’re going to Ainsley Castle,” she announced.
Rufus’s eyes widened. “Ainsley? But that’s… Leona, that’s where the Beast—”
“Murdock Lyall,” she corrected firmly. “His name is Murdock Lyall. And he owes me.”
“Owes ye what?”
“A debt.” She urged her horse faster, the wind whipping her hair back from her face. “I freed him from the dungeons. Gave him back his weapons. Helped him escape. He promised I wouldnae have to marry Keith.”
“But Keith’s dead now,” Rufus pointed out. “The promise is kept.”
“Aye. But another Gilmore is demandin' I marry him. Another monster who wants to use me for his own ambition.” Leona’s jaw set with determination. “Murdock Lyall said I wouldnae have to marry Keith. He didnae say anything about his brother.”
They rode through the night, putting miles between themselves and Kerr Castle. Behind them, somewhere in the darkness, Ragnall was organizing a pursuit. Ahead of them lay the unknown, the dangerous, the uncertain.
But Leona had made her choice. She’d chosen freedom in the dungeons when she’d unlocked Murdock’s cell. She’d chosen survival when she’d run from Ragnall.
Now she was choosing to fight back.
They were going to Ainsley Castle. And this time, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.