Chapter 13
The moment he dismounted with Hannah in his arms, his eyes found the nearest guard.
“Alert everyone. One of Alan’s men has been spotted in the area.
” The guard nodded and hurried away. Magnus’s mind was already reeling with all he needed to do.
Double patrols, organize a search to make sure none of Alan’s men were hiding, and overall prepare for the worst. But Hannah was the most important thing, as he knew his brother and if he had the opportunity to take back what he thought was ‘his’, he would. Magnus moved them into the Keep.
Taking hold of Hannah’s chin, he tilted her face to get her to look at him when he spoke, needing to see for himself that she understood his command. “One of the maids will take ye to our chambers. Stay there until I return,” Magnus told her firmly.
But then, her hands clutched the arm that was cradling her chin. Her glacial blue eyes were round and swimming with fear and worry. “Please, don’t go… Don’t…” Her voice trembled, and it made his heart clench. “Don’t leave me alone.”
For a moment, he wanted to tell her to be realistic and that there were many things he had to do to keep her safe.
But the pleading look in her eyes kept his mouth from moving.
Hannah wasn’t a woman to plead unless it was something she was gravely serious about—and she had never requested to spend time with him.
And even though he knew he would be needed to lead his men and organize the efforts to protect the Keep, Magnus couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed him more.
“Alright,” he said softly, his hold on her chin moving to stroke her jaw affectionately. And then he turned his head, barking at the nearest guard. “See to it that word travels to Angus that he is in charge until further notice. My wife and I are nae to be disturbed unless it is an urgent matter.”
“Aye, M’Laird,” the guard said before hurrying off.
And with that, Magnus took Hannah’s hand in his and walked with her up to their bedchamber.
With every step, he was aware of how shaken she truly was by seeing one of Alan’s men.
He couldn’t think about what this man could have possibly done to her or else he would lose all calm and go after him.
Her hand trembled in his hold and her eyes scanned every shadow twice as though they would come to life and attack her.
It made his chest tight with rage that his brother had managed to instill terror in a woman as fierce as Hannah.
Once in the chamber, he moved her to the sofa and sat her down before pouring her a goblet of wine to help calm her nerves.
But when he handed it to her, she just fidgeted with the stem and bit her lip, making his eyes narrow.
Something was telling him that there was more than he understood about her current state.
But he didn’t press and instead sat next to her and watched her.
Hannah finally gulped some of her wine and set the goblet down, taking a breath before looking at him with nervous eyes. “I… didn’t tell you but something happened on the day of our wedding,” she said, her voice meek.
His eyes narrowed further as he studied her, trying to guess what it could possibly be. Magnus spoke quietly but firmly, “Tell me now, Hannah.”
She bit her lip and looked down. And then, she stood and moved across the room to the table next to the bed and reached inside the drawer.
When she sat back down next to him, she produced a small ball of…
well, he wasn’t sure what. He took hold of it and rolled it between his fingers, realizing it was parchment that was covered with food residue.
He eyed her again; she nodded, and he unraveled the little ball.
You’re still mine.
The words stared back at him, and his entire body flooded with anger. Not at Hannah, but at Alan. It had to have been him who sent it, making a point of her receiving it on their wedding day.
“Someone dropped this in my lap, in passing, at our banquet,” she explained.
His mind went blank with pure fury. That meant that Alan still had connections in the Keep because there was no way that his men could have infiltrated on his wedding day.
He had every warrior called back to the Keep for such a day, each door guarded, and every person identified.
So, it was someone who was working for Magnus but whose loyalty still remained with Alan.
His jaw set and his mind began swirling with ways to root out the rat and just how swiftly he would carry out justice.
But when he looked back at Hannah, he saw the fear in her eyes was no longer just about Alan but about him. She was worried about his reaction and… It deflated something in him.
Magnus was a difficult man, one that was hard to read and even harder to get through to when it came to his emotions—but one thing felt all too real to him.
In the very pit of his being, he didn’t want Hannah to fear him.
It did something to his soul to see the way her face tightened as though she was prepared to be struck by him.
He raised a hand and slowly reached for her cheek, each movement deliberate so that she could see he wasn’t doing so with malice or anger. When his thumb stroked her cheek, he watched as a little bit of the fear in her eyes melted bit by bit.
“Thank ye for telling me now,” Magnus said. “I’ll see to it that whoever passed this note along is found. Please tell me immediately if something like this happens again.”
Hannah nodded, but he could still feel the tension radiating off of her.
It wasn’t that he could blame her for it, he knew how complicated and painful the position was that his clan had put her in.
And even though he didn’t know the details of the torment she had faced with Alan, he was confident that his imagination didn’t begin to cover it.
His attention flickered to the scar on her cheek, the little strip of silver skin that seemed to invoke fear in the village folk.
“How did ye get this scar?” he asked as his fingertips brushed against it.
He knew it was Alan, but he had never asked about her time there, about her pain.
And right then, he was hoping that asking would let her see that he was willing to help carry that hurt with her.
She had to wear the scars, but they could manage the memories and the feelings they invoked together.
“He said he marked me to remind me of my place as his property,” she said. Magnus wasn’t sure what hurt more, her words or the fragility of her voice when she uttered them.
He scoffed and shook his head as his fingers continued to trace the raised, smooth skin. “My brother was always smart, but never wise,” he said quietly. “He should have known upon meeting ye that ye’re nae someone who can be owned.”
Their eyes met again, but his fingers remained on the scar. “Don’t you think you own me?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I dinnae own people, especially nae ye.” He sighed before continuing. “I ken I forced ye into this marriage and for reasons that dinnae benefit ye. And ye might be mine on paper, but I’ll never try to own ye, Hannah. I dinnae wish to quell that fire inside ye.”
She didn’t respond but kept her eyes on his face and sat still as he caressed the scar before finally letting his hand fall away. He spoke again, “It looks like ye were kissed by a blade, but the blade found ye to be sharper than itself.”
She scoffed. “I am not a sword. I’m just… broken.”
His eyes found hers again, an intensity to his gaze. “Ye are nae broken, but even if ye were—a broken blade cuts twice as sharply.”
She shook her head and looked away. “You sound so confident in that, but I’m not. You don’t know what I went through with your brother. How much it changed me. I don’t know if I’ll ever find myself again.”
Magnus’s hand sifted through her wheat-colored hair, the large braid in the back having come undone during their frenzy to get back to safety.
“I’ve seen much in my time, Hannah. I have seen broken spirits.
Yers is hurt, but nae broken. And I swear to ye, I’ll keep ye safe—from Alan, from anything and everything else—and I’ll help ye mend that pain. Even if it’s with one kiss at a time.”
He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers softly.
It wasn’t a kiss, but an invitation. He wasn’t good at emotions or comfort, but he could offer her affection and distraction if she wanted it.
Magnus didn’t even recognize himself in that moment, with how gentle and caring he was being.
But if Hannah felt broken, he would be damned if he deepened those cracks and broke her further.
If he had to learn to be patient and gentle, it would be for her.
After a long moment, he felt Hannah press her lips to his—a silent acceptance of his invitation.
And that was all he needed. Magnus’s lips moved against hers fiercely, as though he could actually kiss away the pain she had gone through in the past year.
His hand knotted in her hair as he pulled her closer, his other hand resting on her waist.
Hannah returned all that he gave, her soft tongue pressing past his lips and grazing along his, leaving behind the taste of wine and her. And her hands rested against his broad chest and Magnus felt crazed. Her hands on him, even in this mild way, made him immediately want more.
He moved his arms around her until he picked her up bridal style and stood from the sofa.
In large strides, Magnus brought her to the bed and laid her down and moved over her.
His knees pressed into the mattress on each side of her thighs, one elbow next to her head as he propped himself up as his lips moved down to her neck.
Kissing, sucking, biting. Doing anything he could to elicit more of those moans and panted breaths that escaped her with each movement of his lips against her skin.