Chapter 26
The courtyard was filled with armed men.
Leona’s breath caught in her throat as she emerged from the keep behind Murdock. At least two dozen warriors stood in formation, their weapons drawn and their expressions hard. They wore the Gilmore colors, and at their center stood Ragnall.
He looked different from how she remembered him from that terrible night when she’d fled. Harder somehow. More dangerous. His grief over Keith’s death had carved deep lines into his face, aging him beyond his years. But his eyes, those green eyes, burned with a fury that made her blood run cold.
“Laird Ainsley,” he called out, his voice carrying across the courtyard with false pleasantry. “I hadnae expected to meet ye again under such circumstances.”
Murdock descended the steps slowly. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, and every line of his body screamed predator.
Leona had seen him fight, had watched him kill Keith without hesitation, but this was different. This was controlled violence, coiled and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“Kerr.” His voice was cold. “Ye’re trespassing on Ainsley lands. I suggest ye state yer business and leave. Quickly.”
Ragnall’s smile was sharp. “Straight to the point. I appreciate that in a man.” He shifted, and Leona’s heart stopped.
Because there, half-hidden behind Ragnall’s larger frame, was Skye.
The little girl’s face was tear-streaked, her dark hair disheveled. Her small body shook with suppressed sobs, and when she saw Murdock, a desperate sound escaped her throat.
“Da!”
“Skye.” Murdock’s voice cracked on her name, and Leona heard the barely leashed fury in it. Saw the way his hand tightened on his sword until his knuckles went white.
Ragnall pushed Skye forward, one hand gripping her shoulder hard enough that she whimpered. His other hand held something that writhed and hissed with feline fury.
Nyx.
The little black cat was a ball of rage in his grip, her claws extended, her yellow eyes blazing. She’d already drawn blood.
Leona could see the scratches covering Ragnall’s arm, the way crimson seeped through his sleeve. But he held on, his grip unyielding, using the animal’s struggle to emphasize his control.
“She really loves kitties,” Ragnall said conversationally, giving Skye a little shake that made her stumble.
“Found her in the kitchens eatin' honeycakes with this little beast. Made our job so much easier, really. We just promised we had special sweets for the cat, and she followed right along. Ye might want to check yer kitchen maids, by the way, Ainsley. I think they got quite the fright.”
Leona felt sick. Behind her, more people had arrived. She heard Ailis make a sound of pure rage, felt Kristen’s hand grip her arm tight enough to bruise.
Around the courtyard, Murdock’s men had appeared, weapons drawn. She spotted Murdock’s brothers-in-law, their faces dark with fury.
Hamish stood near the gate, his hand on his sword, waiting for the signal to attack.
But they all held back. Because Ragnall had Skye.
“Let her go.” Murdock’s voice was deadly quiet. “Whatever quarrel ye have, it’s with me. The child has nothin' to do with this.”
“Doesnae she?” Ragnall tilted his head. “I disagree. I think she has everything to do with this.” He looked down at Skye, his smile turning cruel. “After all, she’s the reason ye killed me brother, is she nae? Tryin' to protect yer wee bairn.”
“Yer brother tried to ransom me for gold,” Murdock bit out. “He made his choice.”
“And ye made yers.” Ragnall’s grip on Skye tightened. “Now I’m makin' mine. I’m here to pick up me bride via battle or a simple exchange.”
The words hung in the air.
Skye whimpered again, trying to pull away from Ragnall’s grip. Nyx yowled and managed to sink her teeth into his thumb. He cursed but didn’t release either of them.
“Da, please.” Skye’s voice was small, terrified. “I’m sorry. I didnae mean… I just wanted to make Nyx happy and—”
“Shh, wee one,” Ragnall said with false gentleness. “Ye did nothin' wrong. Yer faither is the one who needs to make this right.”
Murdock took a step forward, and instantly a dozen swords rose, pointed directly at him. He froze, his expression murderous.
“I’ll nae warn ye again, Kerr,” he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made seasoned warriors flinch. “Let. Her. Go.”
“Or what?” Ragnall’s smile widened. “Ye’ll kill me like ye killed Keith? In front of yer daughter? I wonder how that would affect the poor lass. Watchin' her faither become a monster.”
The calculated cruelty of it made Leona’s hands curl into fists.
Ragnall knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly how to twist the knife. He’d weaponized Murdock’s greatest fear: becoming his father, becoming the monster he’d spent his whole life trying not to be.
Killian started forward, murder in his eyes, but Murdock threw out an arm, stopping him.
“Nay.” His voice was strained. “Nay. He wants us to attack. Wants an excuse to hurt her.”
“Smart man,” Ragnall said approvingly. “Glad to see ye understand the situation.” His grip on Skye shifted, fingers digging into her shoulder.
She cried out, and Leona saw Murdock flinch as if he’d been struck.
“What do ye want?” Murdock gritted out.
“I already told ye. Me bride.” Ragnall’s eyes scanned the courtyard, then landed on Leona where she stood frozen on the steps. “There she is. Beautiful as ever, Cousin. Did ye miss me?”
“Go to hell,” Leona spat.
“Temper, temper.” Ragnall tsked. “Is that any way to speak to yer betrothed?”
“Ye’re nae me betrothed. Ye never were.”
“Ye were Keith’s before he died. That makes ye mine by rights.” His smile turned sharp. “And I always collect what’s owed to me.”
Behind her, Leona heard Ailis whisper urgently to Kristen, “We need to do somethin'. We need to help.”
“What can we do?” Kristen’s voice was strained. “He has Skye. If we move, if we do anythin'…”
Leona’s heart ached for them. For everyone watching this nightmare unfold, powerless to stop it. But she couldn’t think about that now. Couldn’t let herself feel the fear threatening to overwhelm her.
Nyx chose that moment to land a particularly vicious scratch across Ragnall’s cheek, her claws drawing three parallel lines of blood. He swore viciously, nearly dropping the cat, but managed to maintain his grip on both his hostages.
“Damned beast,” he muttered, blood running down his face. But there was a glimmer of respect in his eyes as he looked at the hissing feline. “Got spirit, I’ll give her that. Shame she chose the wrong side.”
“Nyx!” Skye called out, her voice breaking with tears. “Please daenae hurt her! She’s just scared!”
Despite everything, the terror, the danger, the armed men surrounding them, Skye was worried about the cat.
Leona saw Murdock’s expression crack slightly, saw the anguish flash across his face before he schooled it back to careful calm.
“I’ll make ye a deal,” Ragnall declared. “Ye give me what I came for, and I’ll release the child and her pet unharmed. Ye try anything clever, and…” He let the threat hang in the air.
“Da?” Skye’s voice was small, frightened. But there was something else in it. A determination that reminded Leona achingly of Murdock. “Da, daenae let him take Leona. I’ll be brave. I can be brave like ye taught me.”
“Oh, that’s precious,” Ragnall said with false sweetness. “Tryin' to be strong like yer faither. But sweetheart, yer faither is about to learn that strength doesnae matter when someone ye love is in danger.”
Murdock’s whole body went rigid. Leona could see him calculating, weighing his options, trying to find a way out of this that didn’t end with someone he loved getting hurt.
But there was no good option. Ragnall had made sure of that.
“I’ll give ye until the count of three,” Ragnall said. “Then I start breaking the child’s fingers. One. Two—”
“Wait!” Leona cried.
She was moving before she could think, before reason could stop her, descending the steps with her spine straight and her head held high.
“Leona, nay!” Ailis grabbed for her, but Leona twisted away.
“Leona, stop!” Kristen’s voice was sharp with fear.
But Leona kept walking. Kept moving forward even as every instinct screamed at her to run.
She passed Murdock without looking at him, breaking free from the way he grasped her arm when she walked next to him.
She couldn’t look at him, because if she did, she’d see the anguish in his eyes and she’d lose her nerve.
She could feel his presence, though. Feel the tension radiating from him like heat from a forge. Feel the barely controlled violence that wanted to explode, to tear Ragnall apart for daring to threaten what was his.
“Well, well.” Ragnall’s voice was smug and satisfied. “The bride comes willingly. How romantic.”
Leona stopped a few feet away from him, close enough to see Skye’s tear-stained face, to hear Nyx hissing. The cat was still fighting, still refusing to submit despite being held captive.
Brave little beast.
“Let them go,” Leona said quietly. Her voice didn’t shake. She was proud of that. “Let Skye and Nyx go, and I’ll come with ye. Willin'ly. Nay fight. Nay resistance.”
“Leona, nay!” Murdock’s voice was raw, desperate. “Daenae do this!”
She turned to look at him. Saw the anguish etched into his features, the way his hands were clenched so tight they were trembling. Saw the man who’d just confessed his deepest fears standing helpless while the woman he was trying to protect sacrificed herself.
Their eyes met across the distance, and at that moment, everything else fell away. She saw his soul laid bare, the terror, the rage, the desperate care he’d only just begun to acknowledge. Saw him breaking apart even as he stood there, unable to move, unable to save her.
“I have to,” she said simply. “Ye ken I do.”
“Like hell ye do!” Murdock started forward, but Hamish and Killian grabbed him, holding him back even as he fought against their grip like a wild animal. “Leona, I order ye to stop!”
“Ye’re nae me Laird,” she said softly, her heart breaking at the look on his face. “Nae yet. And this is me choice.”
“It’s nae a choice if ye’re doin' it to save someone else,” Murdock ground out, still struggling against the hands holding him back. “Leona, please. Please daenae do this. We’ll find another way.”
“There is nay other way.” She blinked back tears. “And ye ken it.”
She turned back to Ragnall, meeting his triumphant gaze without flinching. Behind her, she could hear Murdock’s ragged breathing, could feel his gaze burning into her back. Could sense the exact moment he stopped struggling, when he realized she truly was going to do this.
“Do we have a deal?” she asked Ragnall, proud that her voice remained steady. “Me in exchange for them?”
Ragnall studied her for a long moment, his eyes calculating. Then he smiled, and it was the smile of a man who’d just won everything he wanted.
“Aye. We have a deal.” He released Skye with a little shove that sent her stumbling forward. “Go on, brat. Run to yer faither.”
Skye flew across the courtyard and crashed into Murdock’s legs, her small arms wrapping around him as she sobbed. Murdock immediately dropped to his knees, gathering her close, one hand cradling her head against his chest while the other checked her over for injuries.
“I’m sorry, Da,” she cried. “I’m so sorry. He said he just wanted to feed the kitty, and I thought—”
“Shh, it’s all right. Ye’re all right.” Murdock’s voice was thick with emotion as he held his daughter tight. “I’ve got ye. Ye’re safe now.”
Ragnall dropped Nyx, who landed gracefully and immediately sprinted toward Rufus, who’d appeared in the courtyard. The boy scooped up the hissing cat, holding her close despite her struggles.
“There.” Ragnall turned back to Leona, his smile widening. “All hostages released as promised. Now, me bride… ye’re exquisite.”
He stepped toward her, reaching out with one hand stained with blood from Nyx’s claws. His fingers stretched toward her face, toward her hair, claiming her with his touch.
The world slowed down. Leona watched those fingers approach, watched the cruel satisfaction in Ragnall’s eyes, and felt her stomach turn.
This was it. The moment she became his. The moment she lost everything she’d fought for.
Behind her, she heard the sound of a wounded animal. She stood frozen, every muscle locked tight, forcing herself not to flinch. This was the price. This was what she’d agreed to. For Skye. For all of them. She couldn’t…
A blade flashed in the sunlight.
The sharp ring of steel cutting through bone echoed across the courtyard, impossibly loud in the sudden silence.
Time seemed to fracture, the moment stretching like taffy as Leona watched Ragnall’s hand—still reaching for her, fingers still extended—separate from his wrist in a spray of crimson that caught the light and turned it red.
It hit the ground with a wet thud, the fingers still twitching.
For a heartbeat, the world fell silent.
Ragnall stared at his severed hand lying in the dirt, blood pumping from the stump of his wrist. Then the pain registered, and he screamed.
Leona looked up to find Murdock standing beside her, his sword still raised, blood dripping from the blade. His face was carved from granite, cold and merciless and absolutely lethal.
“She’s me bride,” he said, his voice deadly quiet.
Then chaos erupted.
Ragnall’s men surged forward with roars of fury. Murdock’s warriors met them with equal violence, swords clashing. The peaceful courtyard transformed into a battlefield in the space of a heartbeat.
Murdock moved in front of Leona, his body a shield between her and the violence.
“Go back to the keep!” he shouted over the clash of steel. “Now!”
But Leona stood frozen, her eyes locked on him. On the way he moved, fluid, deadly, every strike precise and controlled.
This was the weapon his father had honed. But it was also the protector he’d chosen to become. The difference was everything.
She saw him cut down one of Ragnall’s men, then another, his sword a blur of silver in the sunlight. Saw Killian and Neil fighting at his flanks, protecting his back. Saw Hamish rallying the Ainsley warriors, turning the tide of the battle.
And she saw Ragnall, clutching his bleeding stump, being dragged back by his remaining men. He was screaming words she couldn’t make out over the clash of steel, but his eyes found hers across the chaos.
The hatred in them was absolute. Pure.
This wasn’t over. It would never be over as long as he lived.