Chapter 4
Keir’s cold anger did not allow him to talk to Elin again for the rest of the night—or, at least, that was part of the reason.
It was the reason that he was clinging to, the excuse to avoid her that kept him going and left him able to avoid examining the growing pull he felt in her presence.
What was it about her that was drawing him in?
He didn’t know, and more importantly, he didn’t want to know.
Truly, he wished he could just let her go now, simply so that he never had to see her again.
A dark thought lingered in the back of his mind that, had the Broken Blades really deserved the fullness of their reputation, he could be rid of her for good.
But even as furious as he was, the thought of a world robbed of that kind of spirit felt like a world not worth fighting for.
That, of course, only served to make him even angrier.
“She’s bonny, that lass ye’ve brought.”
He looked up to see the last person he wanted to see approaching him—Briana, his apparent new sister-in-law, stood in front of him.
She looked as pretty as she had when he’d last seen her, but something about her had changed.
She’d shed the Cameron name, and with it the Cameron look had fallen away from her, leaving something wilder, more full of life.
Still, his reflexes caused him to rear back, having to fight with his own innate distrust before he was able to speak.
“Aye,” he grunted.
Briana paused. “May I sit?” she asked after a moment.
He grunted again but patted the space on the ledge beside him. “It’s yer camp as much as mine, so I hear.”
Her lips twitched into a smile at that. She perched beside him and said, “Is this yer way of biddin’ us congratulations?”
Keir snorted.
They sat in silence for a moment before Briana spoke again. “How are yer injuries?” she asked. “Ye seem fairly well, considerin’ how bad it looked. Ye lost a lot of blood.”
“I’m alive. We’ve faced worse.” Keir spoke the words almost by rote. He couldn’t meet her gaze, instead staring at the ground in front of him. “I’m sure Theon has told ye all about some of our wilder misadventures.”
“Aye, that he has, and more,” Briana replied. They were silent again for a moment before she asked, “Why did ye bring her here?”
His jaw clenched. Anger rippled through him—at her for asking, at Elin for her accusations, and most furiously at himself. “I told Theon—”
“I’m nae talkin’ about what happened. I’m talkin’ about what happened before.
How did it come that a lass that she recognized ye after all these years in the shadows?
Ye never struck me as the type tae be distracted by a lovely face or a full figure,” Briana pressed in that annoyingly forward way of hers that Theon seemed to find so delightful. “Surely—”
“Hush,” Keir warned through gritted teeth. Yes, Elin was beautiful, but that was nothing to do with the way she kept dancing through his mind, or the way that her words, which would have been glancing blows from anyone else, had cut him so deeply “Just… hush.”
Briana paused, then shook her head. “As ye like. But remember how ye reacted when Theon brought me here, before ye kent how I was? Ye saw a woman bound and frightened and ye attacked yer own blood for me honor. Now the same thing has happened again, but ye’ve left the lass a prisoner in the darkness. ”
Keir balled his hands into fists, still unable to look at her.
The last thing he needed was Briana of all people pointing out his hypocrisy, or whatever it was she was doing.
Yet he couldn’t stop thinking of how Elin had looked when he walked into his cabin earlier to find her bound and blindfolded.
Lost. Vulnerable. So impossibly afraid. He had caused that.
Was it any wonder she had insulted him? He bristled again thinking of her insults, but guilt settled in his stomach as he thought of her alone now, so far from everything she’d known just because she’d had the misfortune of meeting him by chance.
He wondered what his brothers were saying about him right now at the campfire.
“I could have abandoned her in the woods and left her tae find her way home or die tryin’, would ye have preferred that?” he growled.
Briana was unfazed. “She could have abandoned ye, more like. Ye’d have died if the lads hadn’t found ye.
” She shrugged and stood up. “I’m goin’ tae the cookfire tae make sure Graeme hasnae ruined our supper.
Join us when ye like. And perhaps ye could show yer prisoner a little mercy while ye’re at it. ”
Keir bit back his retort, though it stung to let her walk away with a superior air, and even more so to admit that she was right about at least some of what she had said.
He waited until she had turned the corner then stood, groaning at the dull pain in his side, before re-entering the cabin, muttering darkly to himself as he did.
Elin was still sitting where he had left her, perched on the end of the bed, her eyes red and raw from crying.
She straightened her back and lifted her chin when he entered, the loathing and pride rushing to her expression in equal measures.
It was no wonder that she had caught Eamon Grant’s attention, nor the attention of any man, but even her beauty was nothing compared to the way her gaze caught him now.
Something shone in that look, a spark of life even beneath all of the darkness that drew Keir a step closer before he even knew what he was doing.
“What do ye want, bastard?” Elin demanded, her voice thick as she tried to hide her obvious sorrow.
Keir stopped. His tentative resolve to make peace shattered, and his anger reared its head again. Without thinking, he closed the gap between them and roughly grabbed her arm. “Never call me that again,” he hissed. “Never. Ye can either be here as me guest or as me prisoner. The choice is yers.”
“Yer guest!” Elin repeated, derision flowing from every breath. “Is this how ye were taught tae treat a guest?”
A sudden memory of his mother’s soft voice, so faint and yet so precious, flooded into his mind.
He had been so young, so angry, and so ready to fight the men who whispered insults behind his mother’s back.
But she had soothed him, whispering in his ear, reminding him that their words didn’t matter—that they were his father’s guests, and he should treat them with respect even if they showed none.
On the other hand, when he’d told Theon about it, Theon had punched the other boy so hard he’d lost a tooth.
“What are ye smilin’ at?” Elin demanded.
“I’ve been taught many things, Elin. If ye stop bein’ so obstinate, perhaps I’ll show ye some of the good ones,” he replied. She opened her mouth to retort, but he interrupted her before she could. “Ye must be hungry.”
“I—what?”
“Hungry,” he repeated. He allowed himself the small pleasure of enjoying the confusion in her expression. “Come. Get up. I’ll leave ye unbound, but if ye try tae run, it willnae go well for ye. I’ll take ye intae camp and introduce ye properly tae the others, since ye’ll be here for a while.”
She raised an eyebrow. “As yer guest.”
Keir huffed something close to a laugh. “If ye behave. Do ye think ye can do that?”
Elin frowned but followed him as he walked out of the door. “And why would I eat anythin’ ye give me?” she asked. “What if it’s poisoned?”
Keir raised an eyebrow and looked at her over his shoulder. “Do ye think I’d need poison if I wanted ye dead?”
She shivered at his words, and he turned away again, his heart roiling with grim satisfaction and a guilt and foreboding that he pushed down and tried his best to ignore. Her fear was useful to him, but he found it more distasteful than he’d like.
“Come,” he ordered again, and walked out of the door, knowing that she’d follow.
As soon as they reached the fire, Elin let out a gasp and ran toward where Briana and Theon sat close together over the cooking pot.
Keir watched without a word, his stomach clenching at the familiarity of the sight alongside its strangeness now that he had brought Elin here.
Nearby, Graeme and Noah were sparring, but both lowered their weapons and turned to watch as well.
Noah met Keir’s eye with a look that was a little bit too understanding, and Keir sharply looked away.
Elin knelt in front of Briana and took her hands in her own. “They make ye cook for them? How long have these brutes kept ye captive? What do they hope tae gain from ye? Dinnae worry, we’ll be all right. It will take some time, but—”
Briana smiled a little sadly and gently interrupted her. “Ye misunderstand. I’m nae captive, and there are nae brutes here. Keir said yer name is Elin, aye? I’m Briana MacKenzie, and this is me family.”
The casual use of the word struck Keir like a blunt club, staggering him.
Family. Yes, Theon was his family by blood, and Graeme and Noah had been his brothers for most of his life, but they rarely used that word to describe themselves.
Briana now bore his father’s name and, through her love for Theon, had claimed his clan and family as her own as well.
Keir surprisingly found he did not resent Briana this, all he could think of at that moment was his mother and how she had never been able to claim the same.
“Yer…family?” Elin asked, sounding as dazed as Keir felt by the declaration.