Chapter 13
The library had a stillness that Amara hadn’t appreciated until now. After the brightness of the courtyard and the echo of Daisy’s laughter, it felt almost sacred.
She let her fingers trail along the spines of the old books, their leather bindings cracked, and golden lettering faded. A breath slower, a heartbeat steadier.
Myles strolled beside her, brushing hay off his shoulder and humming under his breath. “Told ye we O’Donnells ken how to throw a proper game.”
Amara smiled faintly. “Yer aim… is atrocious, Myles.”
“Aim?” He raised a brow. “Me dear lady, I was distractin’ ye. That was the plan.”
She didn’t answer. Just plucked a thin volume off of the shelf and moved toward the hearth.
He followed, of course, leaning a shoulder against the mantel. “Suppose ye have had suitors before. Like ones who read poetry and wore powdered wigs?”
“Some,” she murmured, flipping open the cover.
“Bet none of them kent how to start a fire without flint or ride a stallion bareback through a storm.”
Her lips twitched, but she didn’t look up. “And ye do?”
He tapped his chest. “All day. Every day.”
“Mmm.”
That was as much as she gave him. It was all she could afford to give. Myles was warm and easy to be around, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Still tangled in rough hands, stormy eyes, and the lingering echo of a kiss she had no business thinking about again… and again.
The door creaked behind them.
Amara turned just in time to see Daisy skip inside, her cheeks still flushed from play.
“There ye are!” the girl cried. “I was lookin’ for ye.”
Amara smiled softly. “Oh, I figured ye were off bein’ scrubbed and scolded for gettin’ so dirty.”
Daisy held up her tiny hands, showing ten clean fingers. “Washed, aye. Scolded, nay. I’m very overwhelming.”
Myles barked a laugh which drew out a chuckle from Amara as well, and Daisy beamed up at him before turning back to her with that same wide-eyed intensity that made it hard to breathe.
“What’s yer excuse this time to busy yerself with the likes of us instead of with yer nannies?” Amara teased, recalling that Daisy had insisted that she needed to go inside to use a chamber pot as her first reason to pull Amara and Myles from the library.
Daisy’s face glowed with innocent menace. “I dinnae use any excuse. I just told’em I wanted to play hide 'n' find.”
Amara nodded her head dramatically, “Oh, and here is yer hiding spot?”
Daisy hummed gleefully and nodded just as dramatically in return until her curious eyes caught sight of something that distracted her. Her mood changed quickly as she made her way toward the small cupboard built into the wall.
Amara and Myles both watched the young girl intently as she rummaged for a moment and returned holding a thick, weathered book with green trim and gilded corners. The leather was worn soft, the title barely legible.
“This one is me favorite,” she said, offering it out. “Ye can have it.”
Amara took the book carefully, heart tightening. “I daenae ken if I can take it, but I will read it.”
Daisy seemed to be satisfied with that concession. “I’ve read it at least a hundred times.”
“Ye are very generous to bestow this upon me, thank ye, Miss Daisy.”
The young girl shrugged, already bored with the moment. She wandered toward Myles. “I’m hungry again.”
“Ye’re always hungry,” he teased.
“And ye’re always lazy!”
Amara watched them bicker fondly and allowed herself the smallest, most cautious sip of contentment.
Mayhap this place wasnae entirely too bad… mayhap it’ll get better.
The hairs on her neck stood up.
The doorway had gone silent, and so had Daisy and Myles.
Rhys was there. Amara didn’t even need to twist in her chair to look at the doorway behind her.
“Daisy,” he said, voice low, “Yer nurse has been searchin’ for ye.”
The girl frowned. “Aye, we’re playin’ hide 'n' find, da!”
“She’s waitin’ for ye. Go find her.”
Amara stood then, clutching the book in her hands as they hung in front of her.
“But Da! I’m winn—” the girl started, but Rhys interrupted.
“Daisy Adams…” his voice was stern, but he wore a grin across his face. “Now, me love.”
She slouched but obeyed, dragging her feet toward the door. Amara noted that, otherwise, Rhys stood there, expression unreadable. His gaze flicked between Daisy and Myles and Amara, then caught a glimpse of the book in her arms. Something flashed in his eyes. A question. A warning.
Myles cast a look between them and, for once, said nothing as he silently moved across the room, past Rhys, and out into the corridor.
Amara stood still, gripping the book like it might shield her, and Rhys stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
The air grew heavier.
Neither spoke as he paced once toward the hearth, hands clasped behind his back, then turned to her fully.
“She gave ye that?” he asked.
Amara nodded. “Said it was her favorite.”
“It’s mine.”
“I reckoned as much.”
“I dinnae intend for ye to join her at any point today.”
“She invited me.”
His brows knit, and she continued.
“I wasnae goin’ to say nay to a child. Especially nae yers.”
He stepped closer… too close.
“Ye looked happy,” he murmured. “Out there.”
Amara held his gaze. “I was.”
His jaw twitched at her answer, and he turned away, pacing back toward the hearth like he needed to outrun it. The silence between them thickened, pressing in like a weight she could almost feel in her chest.
“Daenae make a habit of it, lass,” he said as he turned around to face her.
Amara’s lips parted. “Of what? Playin’ with yer daughter or being happy?”
“Both.”
Before she could stop herself, she rolled her eyes. “Ye are exhaustin’.”
“And ye are reckless.”
Their eyes locked again.
No more words.
Only heat.
And Rhys took a step back. “Ye need to return that book when ye are finished. It wasnae hers to give. And it is certainly nae yers to keep.”
Amara lifted her chin. “I’ll take good care of it.”
Rhys turned and pulled the door open, and looked at her. “Come.”
Her torso clenched and she felt a heat rest low between her hips. The sudden urge to please this irritating man had taken over all of her senses and her feet were moving before she could even think about an argument against the demand.
Moving past Myles in a blur, who remained posted outside of the library, she followed Rhys into the depths of the keep. Winding corridors and narrow passageways up several flights of stairs until finally he came to a screeching halt.
The torchlight danced across the cold stone, casting jagged shadows around them. The corridor seemed to have been mostly abandoned now, and dark, and secret.
“Where are we?”
“Near the old solar.”
“I cannae get back to me rooms by meself.”
“That’s nae me problem,” he said as his frustration was clearly boiling over between the useless banter they were engaged in.
“Everything seems to be a problem to ye, Rhys. So, out with it! Ye’ve brought me to a place, lost in yer keep, utterly reliant on ye. Out with whatever it is that’s been botherin’ ye e’er since ye brought me here.”
Rhys combed a hand through his hairs. “Children ask for sweets before supper. That doesnae mean ye give in to them. It doesnae matter if Daisy asked ye, ye should have had the sense of self-preservation to deny her.”
Amara crossed her arms. “She’s lonely.”
“She’s mine!” His voice snapped tight around the word.
“I’m nae takin’ her from ye. I’m just bein’ kind.”
He stepped closer. “Kindness gets twisted in places like this.”
“Why did ye bring me all the way up here to just continue the conversation that we were already havin’ in private?”
“I needed ye to fully grasp the gravity of yer situation.”
“And what is that?”
“See. I thought ye dinnae ken. Yer situation is that ye are the enemy to every single person in this clan. Ye reckon that last night was the worst it would get? Ye are completely and totally reliant on me for protection.”
The weight of his words drenched her in ice cold realization. She of course knew all of these things, but Rhys was the one person who she least expected to hit her with the harsh reality of her situation.
Forsaken by her own clan and that the mercy of her father’s enemy.
“Ye dragged me here and expect me to sit silent and grateful for yer hospitality?”
“I brought ye here for yer safety, nae to meddle in me household.”
“Ye mean yer daughter’s life?”
Rhys’s eyes flashed.
“She came to me, Rhys. I dinnae seek her out. I’m here as yer guest, as ye have made so very clear to everyone, so forgive me if I daenae sit meekly and wait for instructions like one of yer hounds or guards.”
His jaw tightened. “Ye should have stayed away from her.”
“Well, perhaps ye should have warned her to stay away from me, then.”
“I did.”
Amara stepped forward now, furious. “Then mayhap ye should take better care of yer child if ye are so terrified someone might shower her an ounce of affection that isnae ye.”
Rhys’s expression darkened like thunder. “Daenae presume to ken what me daughter needs.”
“And daenae presume to pretend that I came here without a fight. Ye kidnapped me, failed at tradin’ me back to me faither, and then brought me back here.
And ye really wish to speak about protection?
Then what in hell’s name happened last night in the dining hall?
I was alone. Left to fend for meself in the den of yer wolves. ”
“I corrected that!”
“It should have never happened!”
“I’ve nay time to entertain yer guilt games, Amara.”
“Then daenae!” Her voice cracked with anger. “But daenae dare pretend that any of this is about Daisy.”
His nostrils flared. “Watch yer tongue.”
“Or what?” she hissed. “Ye’ll lock me in me room like a real prisoner? Shove me into the dungeon even? Kiss me again and pretend it never happened like a coward?”
That did it.
Rhys grabbed her arm with a firm but reckless grip, and backed her against the wall. Her head hit the back of his other hand instead of the stone she had anticipated, but it was cold against her spine. He loomed over her, his breath warm and ragged.
“Ye think this is easy for me?” he growled. “Ye think I can just look at ye and nae want —”
His mouth stopped inches from hers. His voice dropped low. Dangerous.
“Ye drive me absolutely mad.”
Her breath hitched.
“I cannae have ye in this castle as me guest, or sleepin’ next to me chambers as me guest.”
His hips pressed forward, and she felt it. All of him. Hard and throbbing against her stomach. Her breath caught in her throat.
She searched his eyes, fingers trembling.
Was this it? Was this really happening again?
His hand tangled in her hair, and he pulled. Her chin tilted up toward him and her lips parted. Heart throbbing. Heat exploding between her hips.
“Ye will be moved to another room in the morning.”
He said and stepped back.
The sudden cold where his body had been was like ice.
Amara’s mouth parted, heart racing wildly. “What?”
But Rhys didn’t look back.
And now she felt truly lost and utterly alone.
The torches along the corridor sputtered as if mocking her, and shadows flickered hauntingly. She pushed off from the wall slowly, her knees weak and her fingertips still tingling from where they’d clenched the front of his tunic.
What just happened?
It had been anger but not only that. She’d seen the fire in his eyes, felt the hardness of his body pressed against hers. His grip hadn’t hurt, but it had stolen her breath, and his voice still echoed in her skull. Every part of her still buzzed with him. For him.
And then he’d left her.
Amara took a shaky step forward, then another, trying to remember how they’d even gotten to this part of the keep. Winding turns and stairwells, corridors with no windows. It all looked different now, foreign, hollow.
The best she could she retraced her steps and thought desperately to run into Myles or William or Nina, but she didn’t risk calling out anyone’s name.
Her slippered feet padded silently over the stone as she walked, lost, down corridor after corridor.
Her throat was dry and her pulse loud in her ears.
At one point she had to stop, palm flat against the wall as dizziness overtook her.
Daenae cry. Nae here. Nae now. Ye have to get back to yer chambers.
She swallowed down the lump in her throat, and continued on.
Just when she thought she might give up, a familiar voice called out from behind her.
“Lady Amara?”
She turned quickly, breath catching.
Nina stood a few paces behind her, wide-eyed and holding a folded shawl. “Saints above, I thought ye might have been a spirit!”
Amara straightened her spine. “Nay, nay — daenae fash. I went for a walk and took a wrong turn. Was just tryin’ to remember me steps.”
Nina smiled kindly but said nothing. “Follow me, me lady.”
When Amara reached her chamber and the door shut behind her, she stood frozen for a moment. Then, as if her strings had been cut, she collapsed face-first into the mattress.
And cried herself to sleep. For the second night in a row.