Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
Keira could smell burning.
She kept her eyes tightly shut, knowing that if she opened them, she would be greeted with a pyre of wood about to set her alight.
But when the warmth she could feel about her toes continued unabated, and she could hear no screams or baying crowds, she slowly opened her eyes.
She was quite astonished to find that she was in a comfortable bed in what looked like a room inside a castle, sunlight streaming through the window before her.
She could hear birdsong and the burning she could smell was a merry fire in the grate that appeared to have a faulty flue. Occasional gusts of smoke sputtered into the room.
“Good, ye’re awake,” came a deep voice nearby. She peered around the curtains hanging against the posts of the bed. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the man from the forest leaning against the wall, watching her.
Has he just been standin’ there watchin’ me sleep all this time?
Away from the forest, his green eyes had changed entirely from the fresh green they had been beneath the trees. In the dimness of the room, they looked like the color of a treeline on a distant hillside, dark and unknowable.
Keira glanced about her, her mind suddenly flooded with thoughts of her brother and sister, as fear speared through her heart.
What if Lucas takes his revenge for losing me and goes after them? They are all alone and without protection.
“I must get back,” she said quickly, making a move to get out of the bed . Pain pounded sharply on the right side of her temple, and she gasped.
Bringing her hand up to her head, she felt the lump that had formed where the rock had collided with her head.
“Stay where ye are,” he said, coming closer and looking down at her as though she were a wild animal he had maimed with an arrow.
She waited for the pounding in her head to subside before glancing at him, her irritation spiking. “Are ye commandin’ me now?”
He cocked his head to one side. “Aye. This is me castle, ye are me guest, ye do as I say until I tell ye otherwise.”
Their eyes caught and held. He seemed to be examining every part of her with that look. It was the opposite of what she had come to expect from Lucas.
Lucas’s gaze was always assessing, cold, and analytical. This man’s eyes had the same intensity, but there was safety in them—a power that pulsed from his very being.
Flustered, Keira looked away, clearing her throat and trying to see if what he said was true— am I a guest or a prisoner?
“If ye’re thinkin’ of climbin’ out the window, I shall pull ye back inside by yer hair if I have to.”
His words were heavy with threat and she felt a tremor run through her as she looked again at the narrow windows, wondering how high up she was. All she could see was sky.
“Who are ye?” she asked softly.
“Who are ye ?” he replied. “Ye came into me lands bringin’ a mob with ye. By rights, ye should be in the dungeons where I can keep an eye on yer witchcraft .”
She drew in a narrow breath, but knew that if he had truly wanted her to be a prisoner, she would be shackled and chained in some rat-infested cell by now.
She looked down at her fingers. The familiar greenish color around her nails never truly faded, stained by years of working with her hands to make poultices and tinctures.
“I am nay witch,” she said firmly. “And if I were, I wouldnae use me magic to hurt people. I heal the sick; that is me only purpose.”
“That priest doesnae seem to agree with ye, lass,” he stated with a stern expression. In the confines of the room, he looked even larger than he had amongst the trees.
“Aye, that he doesnae,” she replied. “Ye will have to make yer own judgment. Ye daenae ken me or him.”
He took a step forward and she felt her heart flutter as he loomed over the bed. He stared down at her, his eyes dark and assessing. He had an air of quiet authority, a man who was in command of every situation, just as he had been in the woods—there was no apology in his gaze, no hesitation.
“I took a risk in savin’ ye. The least ye can do is tell me yer name and why those people believe ye to be a witch.”
“I want nay trouble. I dinnae ask ye to help me, Me laird. I would have lost them in the woods by nightfall.”
He tutted under his breath and shook his head, moving to lean on the bottom post of the bed, his huge arms across his chest.
“Ye had it all under control, is that it? And how do ye ken me forests? Have ye been there before, stealin’ from me lands to fill yer cauldron?”
She shook her head in exasperation. “And I suppose ye have a list of all the plants that grow in yer forests do ye?”
He didn’t respond, his eyes never leaving hers. Keira could not hold his gaze. There was something about the way this man looked at her that required—no, demanded—that she explain herself. She was powerless to resist.
“I go there to pick mushrooms sometimes,” she confessed with a sigh. “They are a useful medicine for stomach complaints.”
“I see. I shall make sure me servants have an inventory from now on, then,” he said.
“I only ever took a small number. I wouldnae take them all.”
“Steal them all, you mean?”
She crossed her arms over her chest at that, mirroring his stance and feeling put upon by his questions. “Which ones are ye missin’ then?” she challenged, waiting to see what he would say.
He scratched his chin thoughtfully, a wry look on his face.
“White ones,” he hazarded, and she couldn’t help it as a smirk spread across her face.
“That is a lucky guess Me laird.”
But as she spoke, another lance of pain shot through her temple, and she winced, her fingers coming up to brush against the lump on her head again.
She leaned back, resting her weight against the pillows banked behind her.
“How did ye plan to escape?” he asked, his expression grave. “If it werenae for me, ye’d be dead by now,” he said solemnly.
“I was gettin’ away from them.”
“They would nae have given up.”
“Neither would I,” she said firmly. “I have done nothin’ wrong.”
“Then ye arenae a witch?”
“I may ken some potions that would kill a man, but what healer doesnae?”
“Och, the truth is finally revealed then.”
“Why do ye think men fear women healers? They ken we have the means to kill them in their sleep.”
“I shall watch who I let in me bed then,” he said darkly. Keira met his eyes, the heat of his gaze sparking a wave of arousal.
She looked away, feeling her cheeks heat at the unexpected feelings he provoked in her. She distracted herself by looking at her surroundings, acknowledging the warmth and safety of this stranger’s home—she might have been set alight by now if not for him.
“Thank ye for helpin’ me, Me laird,” she said earnestly.
“Ye are welcome, although I am nae happy about it. Heaven kens what pain shall come down on me shoulders for assisting the Bean Nighe on me lands.”
She scoffed. “What fairy stories have ye been told about the Bean Nighe?” she asked, “she is kenned for livin’ beside streams and lakes and washin’ the clothes of those who are soon to die. Ye met me in the woods, and I dinnae have anythin’ but the clothes on me back.” “Yer hands are stained,” he said.
“With the residue of herbs . Unless people in this clan have green blood, I think ye’ll survive Me laird.”
There was a pause for a little time as he watched her, his eyes meeting hers with a warmth that surprised her.
“Tell me yer name, woman.”
She rolled her eyes and then winced as the movement made her head throb. “Keira Young,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest, “the witch of the woods.”
“There. That wasnae so hard, was it?” he stated. “Ye cannae stay in me castle if I dinnae ken who ye are. But ye’ll have to leave in the mornin’; I canne have ye here for longer than that.”
He turned on his heel and made to leave the room.
“Wait!” she shouted after him, and he stopped, turning to her, looking puzzled. “Do ye nae wish to ken the whole story?”
“Dinnae care,” he replied. “Ye are leavin’ in the mornin’ and I hope to never lay eyes on ye again.”