Chapter 34
Fear overtook William, riding him harder than the horse beneath him.
He hated the way it squeezed his chest, hated the way it made his breathing quicken, hated the way it made the world around him blur.
Worse of all, he hated himself. For every choice that had led him there. For every moment he had believed he could keep Sorcha safe while seeking vengeance.
I should have kept her closer. I should never have trusted anyone with her safety.
“Shite!” he roared, leaning low over the horse’s neck.
He rode even faster down the dirt road, the horse’s hooves kicking up dust behind them.
The villagers’ words echoed in his mind relentlessly.
“Aye, we saw a red carriage passing by. Dunrath crest engraved on it.”
Dunrath. The name burned in his chest.
Caelan had been audacious to kidnap a lady in her own carriage.
Soon, William spotted a sacred chapel ahead, its ancient stone rising like it had witnessed too much history.
Why here? Why a chapel, of all places?
Family did not steal family. But monsters did.
Before his horse had even stopped, William jumped down. He landed hard, his boots leaving a dent in the dirt.
He left his mount behind, sprinting up the hill with the single-minded focus of a man who knew he was running out of time.
Soon, he burst through the chapel doors, and the sound that greeted him made him freeze. It was not just any sound. It was feminine, high-pitched, and familiar.
“I’ll do it!” her voice cried. “Fine! I will marry ye! Just daenae hurt anyone again, please. Ye’ve killed enough people already!”
Sorcha?
His eyebrows knitted together.
Marriage?
His breath grew shallow as he rushed deeper into the chapel, his boots echoing loudly, his heart thumping hard. Candlelight flickered, causing shadows that made the place feel more eerie.
Until he finally saw her.
In the distance, Sorcha stood pale and shaking. Her face was drained of color, her eyes glassy with fear. Somehow, she looked even smaller, broken in a way that made something animalistic rise in his chest.
Right beside her stood Caelan.
At the sight of him, William balled his fists, itching to strike.
Caelan noticed him at the same moment. Instantly, his lips curled into a smile. The kind of smile that didn’t convey surprise. The kind of smile that said, Ah, here ye are.
It only infuriated William further. He did not think before moving.
In a breath, he closed the distance between them and grabbed Sorcha’s hand. She gasped, turning around sharply. When she realized it was him, her face crumpled. She seemed relieved to see him, but then fear overtook her expression.
She looked at him as though he wasn’t supposed to be there.
“Nay,” she whispered, shaking her head violently. “William, daenae…”
But he was already pulling her toward him. He had no time to negotiate. He was too impatient.
This was where he belonged. Here. Between her and danger. Protecting her, even if it cost him his life.
“Let her go!” Caelan roared, reaching for the dagger beneath his coat. “She’s mine! She will never be yers!” He flashed his blade with unmasked cruelty.
William pushed Sorcha backward and stepped in front of her, drawing his sword from its sheath.
“Stay there,” he ordered, without looking back. “Daenae move.”
Soon, steel met steel. The sound rang through the chapel.
The men circled each other, their blades clashing. William drove Caelan back again and again.
Caelan fought like a man possessed. He was wild, fueled by obsession rather than skill. William read him easily, ducking, forcing him to retreat step by step.
Eventually, Caelan’s breathing grew labored, his movement becoming slower and sloppier. He was getting tired, unable to keep up. Panic flashed across his face; he knew he was losing. He broke into a run. Not toward the door, but toward Sorcha.
“Nay!” William shouted, lunging after him.
But Caelan had already grabbed Sorcha with brutal force. She screamed at him, her teeth sinking deep into his arm.
“Let me go!” she cried.
But whatever had possessed Caelan seemed to make him even more feral.. If anything, he lifted his dagger to the soft, vulnerable line of her throat.
William skidded to a halt.
“Come any closer,” Caelan hissed, his eyes wild, “and I’ll slit her throat.”
The chapel vanished. William could not see anything except the horror before him. It reminded him of something. An old memory that crashed back with terrifying clarity.
His parents. The past. History was repeating itself before his eyes.
“I swear it,” Caelan laughed, the sound even more cruel and broken. “If I cannae have her, nay one will.”
At that moment, William realized what this was all about: a cruel obsession that had been festering for years.
Indeed, Sorcha had been betrayed by someone she had once called family. And that fanned the flames of his fury.
A roar tore from his chest as he surged forward without thinking, trusting his instinct. His sword flashed, and his strike was perfect. The steel sliced into Caelan’s wrist, causing the dagger in his hand to clatter to the floor.
Before Caelan could even scream, William slit his throat with one swift swing.
Caelan crumpled, dead before his body hit the stone floor. Silence fell over the chapel as blood pooled beneath him.
Sorcha collapsed, as though no longer able to hold herself upright. Slowly, she hugged her knees to her chest, trembling violently, raw sobs tearing from her throat.
William felt his sword slip from his hand. He dropped to his knees before her and gently wrapped her in his arms. He held her like that, as if she might disappear if he loosened his grip.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry I didnae keep ye safe.”
He kissed her hair, her temples, her shaking hands. He wasn’t sure he could ever make it up to her. What if he had arrived too late? He didn’t want to imagine what could have happened to her.
Sorcha clung to him harder, her tears soaking into his cloak.
“It was him,” she gasped. “Caelan… he killed them. All of them.”
Her words broke him further.
“Ye daenae have to apologize,” she whispered weakly. “Ye saved me.”
William pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. It was brief, but it was enough to ground them both.
“Later,” he murmured. “We will speak of everything later.”
For now, he simply wrapped himself around her, sheltering her from the world as much as he could.