Chapter 8
The door to the chamber closed with a decisive thud, and Willow abruptly stopped in her march across the room and turned to face Keegan.
The laird.
“Ye lied to me. Ye lied to me face, and I am still to trust ye that I have yer word that me men will come to nay harm. There is nae a single way that I—”
“I dinnae lie to ye, lass. I only let ye believe what ye wanted.” Willow’s skull was sure to split open, unable to hold in the rage that coursed through her blood. “Ye misunderstood, and it wasnae as if ye were particularly open with me either.”
Her face burned, the raw edge of a knife contained within her heart.
She balled her hands into fists, but it was futile, and she knew it.
This chamber was the same as hers back home.
Magnus ruled with a heavy fist, and it was clear that this Keegan would be no different.
Her men would be found and killed, no doubt, and her brother would not be interested in whatever exchange Keegan proposed.
That man…Me brother has something else planned. I’m sure of it. He willnae care about me, but why take the laird’s sister? What is he after? Ugh!
She screamed internally, for there was no point in doing it out loud. Instead, she turned away from her captor and went straight to the window. Clutching onto the ledge, Willow let the rough edge of the stone bite into her palm, seeking out a relief from the fury.
“Why did ye allow me to believe ye were the man-at-arms?” Willow asked without turning around.
“I believed that ye might be perhaps…more forthcomin' with yer words if ye dinnae ken ye were with the Laird of Brahanne.”
For what knowledge she had of the man, Willow didn’t find another lie in his words. But what did she really know of him at all? He’d been dishonest, her instincts betraying her as her thoughts had when she’d tended his wound.
“Ye allowed me to treat yer injury.” The anger was too great now, and Willow spun around, facing Keegan. “Ye…prodded at me about sleepin' in the cold! Ye are a scoundrel!”
She stamped her foot down, but it only served to draw that brow of Keegan’s down further. He ducked his chin back as if he were using the motion to physically restrain himself. The muscles of his jaw worked as he stood there, tense as a wire. Without meeting her eyes, Keegan let out a low breath.
“Ye will have care how ye address me, lass. Ye ken now that I am laird of this castle, and ye’ll do well to remember that.”
Willowed scoffed, taking a step forward and jabbing her finger across the air toward Keegan.
“Ye are laird? Och, and how am I to ken that for sure? How am I to trust a word out of yer mouth?! Me guards are as good as dead for all the worth in yer words.”
Keegan was across the room in a moment, standing just in front of Willow with the fire of rage blazing behind his eyes. He shoved her hand out of the air as she pointed at him, glaring down at her with those eyes so blue it actually pained her.
“I gave ye me word, lass. I willnae harm those men. I keep me promises, unlike others in yer life that are keen on breakin' them.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his nostrils flaring. “And the scoundrel is yer bastard of a brother who’s kidnapped me sister.”
Willow rolled her eyes, letting her head swing back in a circle to emphasize the gesture.
“So ye what? Took it upon yerself to steal me from me betrothed? I have nay part in any of this. Take yer grievances up with Magnus.”
It was Keegan’s turn to scoff, and he regarded Willow with a sneer, the annoyance plain on his face.
“Och, and I am now to believe that the sister of the laird has nay idea what he’s been doin'?. Do ye take me for a fool, Willow? I’ve paid enough to yer brother to last a lifetime, and I willnae be allowin' him to keep me sister.”
“I dinnae ken she was there! Magnus only said that he’d captured a Brahanne spy! He’s nae honest with the lot of us, least of all me.”
Willow couldn’t contain her voice, the levels reaching higher and higher toward the ceiling. She thrust herself up as she tangled with the laird, trying in vain to make herself taller so that he couldn’t look down on her.
“Do ye honestly expect me to believe that?” Keegan’s voice was quieter now, but Willow could still hear the disdain beneath each syllable he uttered.
“If ye’ve had any interaction with the man, then ye ken yerself what he’s like.
I was to be handfasted and married. Just today, after spendin' two nights at the MacMillan castle. Has there been any word sent to yer castle from Magnus? Surely, it has gotten back to him that I dinnae arrive as expected. It’s been well enough time for a messenger to have reached me brother. And yet…”
Willow let the words hang, knowing that Keegan would piece together her meaning. If anything, she did know that the laird was intelligent, and this exchange of his was clearly in great danger of failing for the lack of her brother’s response to her being missing.
Inches from each other, Willow didn’t back down, holding her ground as she narrowed her stare on the man who’d claimed her from her carriage. Fury and grief and something she would not name swirled through her blood in a maddening concoction.
“Easy, lass. It is best nae to challenge me.” Keegan matched her stare, his body rigid as his attention was focused solely on her.
Willow scoffed. She’d never wanted to marry the MacMillan man, but she had little choice.
She never wanted to have Magnus as a demanding, ruthless older brother, but there, she had no choice at all.
The only thing in the world that mattered to her was Lilith’s safety, and now she was as far away as ever from protecting her.
“Och, is it now? Ye are hardly better than the man ye claim to hate so much, Keegan.” His brows narrowed. “Ye have kidnapped the laird’s sister after all. And what exactly do ye plan on doin' with her?”
Something dark flashed beneath Keegan’s stare, and Willow fought back the tremble that snaked up her spine.
The air thickened with a tension that she could feel grating on her skin, and her heart roared in her ears as she stood her ground mere breaths away from where Laird Brahanne had rooted himself to the ground.
They both breathed in rugged strains as time paused. It had been only a moment, the stalemate rising in furious energy, and then Keegan’s lips came crashing down on hers.
Willow’s eyes shot wide as the force of his kiss nearly knocked her to the ground, and she would have fallen were it not for the firm grasp Keegan took hold of her waist, his arm wrapped about her.
What in the blazes…?
Her mind scrambled, and the ferocity that had accompanied their words fueled Keegan’s efforts. His tongue speared past the seam of her lips, claiming her, and he held her so tight against his chest that she wondered if she would see the bruises of his fingerprints come morning.
It was fiery and raw, so different than the caste embraces she’d seen from those at their handfasting or on their wedding day. This was not the restrained show put on for those in attendance or the stolen kiss from a pair yet in love after decades. This was…everything.
Willow’s head swam as if drunk, and she couldn’t find her footing, something that was both literal and metaphorical. Keegan’s grasp held her aloft as the shock continued to lock up her muscles, and she stumbled mentally, trying to piece together what was happening.
He’s kissing me…my…first kiss. But this is…No, no, no.
Pushing herself roughly out of Keegan’s hold, Willow backpedaled several steps, her legs bumping into the edge of the bed as she stared at the man with her eyes so very wide.
Neither of them said a word, their breaths mirroring each other as they both struggled to compose themselves. It was quite the task, and Willow’s hand went to her chest, feeling the furious pounding of her heart beneath her palm.
Blinking, Keegan’s stare switched to the floor before snapping back to hers once more. Now, as he met Willow’s eyes, his glare was back in place, his jaw clenching again as he processed what had just transpired. He looked as enraged as ever, his hands squeezed into fists at his sides.
Willow was at a loss for what to say, the reality of her situation and the enormity of what Keegan had just done pressing down on her as if she lay beneath an ever-growing pile of boulders.
Why had he done that? What was on the laird’s mind in regard to her captivity?
Did he even truly wish to exchange her for his sister, or was that all a ploy?
She didn’t have the answers, and worse, Willow didn’t trust any that might have come from Keegan. She was frozen in a place of inaction and ignorance—a stranger in the land of the enemy. Whatever course her life had been meant to take had been irrefutably altered.
And Willow had the feeling that there was nothing in her power that would return her to where she’d been.
As she swallowed hard, still unwilling to speak, Keegan ducked his head, retreating into himself. Without a single word, he turned away from her and left Willow to the silence of her new room.
Me prison more like.