She chastised herself for harboring such a foolish dream. It would never happen.
Nonetheless, she fell asleep dreaming of a dark-haired Highlander singing and dancing with her in his arms.
***
Thorn had given Connor specific instructions on where to find Sela. The clever imp had been hiding at the end of a dark passageway when a man called Vern had escorted her to her chamber.
Connor had found her door with ease. The passageway was empty, and he planned to sneak inside to speak with Sela. If she was receptive to helping the Band of Cousins, he would try to convince her to come with him.
He just hoped he had the correct chamber.
Not wanting to make any noise at all, he decided against knocking and opened the door enough for him to see inside.
He released the breath he’d been holding. There she was, sound asleep. He tiptoed inside, closing the door behind him, and made his way to her bed. Kneeling next to her, he had to use every bit of control he had not to touch her.
The one small torch cast a golden glow over her features. With her eyes closed, she appeared as serene as a nymph inside a chapel, her white hair fanned out behind her, her lithe form atop the covers. Every time he saw her, he was more taken with her. He could admit that to himself now. A small pert nose sat in the midst of high cheekbones, and long, pale lashes decorated her face like the finest icing on a pastry.
The ice that usually coated her had melted in slumber.
He could sit and stare at her for hours. To his surprise, her eyes opened, and she turned her head toward him, her fingers tentatively reaching up to touch his lips.
Puzzled by her touch—in the past she’d always pulled away, treated him with something like contempt—he froze, not wishing to break the spell. She cupped his cheek, pulling him closer until their noses nearly touched. Her gaze locked on his, full of something he’d never seen in her before. If he had to guess what she was thinking, he thought she was wishing.
Wishing for a different life, a different place.
Her lips touched his and he let her set the pace as she explored his mouth, her tongue darting between his lips. When he could no longer be a passive participant in the kiss, he slanted his mouth over hers, caressing her mouth as if it were the sweetest morsel he’d ever tasted. He groaned as their passion fueled, the pressure from her lips matching his own, their tongues dueling in an intense imitation of the mating ritual. Her hand reached for the back of his neck and anchored in his hair, tugging him closer, giving him greater access to her mouth.
His hand touched her hip, and too late, he recognized his mistake. Her eyes flew open as if she were seeing him for the first time. She shoved his shoulder, hard, then bolted out of the bed and cowered in the corner.
“How dare you touch me!” she whispered, her tone no less threatening than if she’d shouted from the top of the castle’s tower.
“Sweetling, you touched me first. Were you asleep and unaware of your actions? Whether you wish to deny it or not, you were enjoying our kiss as much as I was.”
“Never. I would never have kissed you.”
He stood up, approaching her slowly, hands raised in a pledge that he meant no harm. “Sela, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help you.”
“Stay away from me. You’ll only cause trouble. Get out. Please leave now.” She wrapped her arms around herself in a hug, huddling in the corner with that awful look of desperation he recognized from earlier. “You don’t understand how things are here.”
He would have preferred a look of icy disdain to this show of fear.
“Sela, I don’t know exactly what your relationship is with this group of cruel men, but I promise I will get you away. I’ll never allow any of them to cause you pain again.” He stepped closer, his hand coming up to brush her cheek briefly before she swatted it away.
“Nay, you cannot. There’s naught you can do to help me except go away. Please, Connor,” she whispered.
Connor was so befuddled he didn’t know how to react. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t whisk you away against your will. Why would you not wish to escape?” He kept his hands to himself, afraid to upset her anymore, but his purpose did not waver.
“I have my reasons.”
“Are you Norse or Scottish? You are slipping into a Scots brogue,” he asked. It was the first time he’d heard her do so. From her stature and icy beauty, he’d always assumed she was Norse. Until now, he’d never had reason to believe otherwise.
“My sire was Scottish. My mother Norse. I’m both.”
“Come to the Highlands with me. They’ll never come after you. They wouldn’t dare attack Grant land.”
“Nay, I cannot risk… You don’t understand, but they hold a power over me you cannot fix.”
“What is it you refuse to risk? Come now before we are discovered,” he begged. He didn’t know what he could do to convince her, only that he must. “They’ll kill you when this is over. What could be more frightening than death?”
“There is a fate worse than death for me, ’tis all you need to know.” Her hands trembled, convincing him that she believed what she said. What hold could they possibly have on her?
He reached for her arm, wishing to console her, but her reaction was swift.
“Don’t touch me. Leave me be. Go away.” The words were said without any bite. The ice had not yet returned, but the fear lingered.
It grew when the door suddenly opened.
“What goes here?”
Chapter Five
As soon as a man appeared in the doorway, Connor had his hand on his weapon. He unsheathed his sword and took out two men with one blow. A bearded man stood at the back of the group, assessing the situation in a way that suggested he was one of the leaders of this group.
Connor fought hard, swinging his weapon over and over again until there were four men crumpled on the ground. “Your turn,” Connor said as he advanced on the bearded bastard. He would like nothing better than to cut him down where he stood.
Unfortunately, that man whistled and another ten men came in from behind him. Connor fought with all the strength he had, but he was overpowered and held down by six men. Two of them stood over him, threatening him with his own sword.
Another two men entered, one of whom was the fool who’d dared to touch Sela in the middle of town. “Beat him but leave him alive,” the bearded man said. “Deposit him far outside of town. Do not kill him, we don’t need the entire slew of Grant warriors on us.”
The short man, the one Sela feared most, said, “I’ll take Sela. She lied. She said she had no interest in him, but he continues to show up.”
Sela fell on her knees in front of the bearded man. “I’ll do anything, but please don’t send me with Hord. Please, Guy.”
The man she’d called Guy looked to the short man’s companion, a man with a deep scar across his neck, who shook his head. “Sela, we need your compliance, and I don’t like what I’m seeing. Hord will make sure you abide by our rules.” He nodded to two men, who moved over and yanked her to her feet, dragging her behind him.
Connor heard her screams all the way down the passageway. When he had his chance, he’d kill that bastard, but it wasn’t yet time.
Four men held him while the biggest of the group swung at him. Two blows later, he blacked out.
***
Sela sat at the table, contemplating all that had happened. Hord had told her he’d be back, so she knew what was to come. She’d have to endure the worst possible form of torture.
Familiar with his tactics, she knew he’d left her alone to make her think about what was to come. How she wished she could have gone with Connor Grant, who was being beaten for trying to help her.
Why hadn’t she told him the truth?
It was a simple answer. Fear. Fear of what her punishment would be, fear that her boon would be denied to her forever. Connor Grant couldn’t possibly understand what drove her.
The door opened, and
to her surprise, a wee red-haired lassie came straight for her, a doll clutched in one hand. “Mama! I’ve missed you so much. Where have you been?”
Sela closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her daughter, Claray. Only three summers old, she was the one light in her dark life. She clutched her so tightly she feared she would hurt her. “Mama, why are you crying?” Her little hand came up and wiped the tear that slid down her cheek. “Don’t cry, Mama. I’ll stay with you forever.”
How she wished that were true. She hugged her tightly again, inhaling her sweet fragrance. For the first two years of her life, Claray had lived with her, but then Guy and Dee had discovered they had a perfect method of controlling Sela: taking her daughter away from her. The first time had been when she tried to run away with Claray, but it had only been for a sennight. Then it had been over a fortnight when she tried to refuse a job in Inverness. The last two times had been a moon or more, once for escaping and the other for arguing. The separations were gut-wrenching, made worse by the fact that Sela did not trust the people who were watching her. “I missed you so, Claray. Forgive me for being gone so long? I love you. You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She pulled her up onto her lap so she could sit back and look at her, memorizing everything there was about her. Those memories would help her get through the long days and nights she had to spend without her daughter. They’d help her do as she was told even though everything in her nature rebelled against it.
“I love you, too, Mama. Do you remember how you said Grandmama would keep watch over me? I saw a butterfly the other day, and I thought it might be her. It kept flying about my head. It even landed on my head once and it tickled. Do you think it was?”
“Aye, I’m sure ’twas Grandmama. Without a doubt, she was watching over you because she would adore you if she could be here with us. She would sing wonderful songs to you and plait your hair, put ribbons and flowers in it to make you even more beautiful.”
“Look, Mama, is my doll not so lovely? Her eyes are blue, just as yours are,” she said, looking at her with such adoration it humbled Sela. The doll was an old fabric creation she’d found for her, and it had been loved so much that she’d had to sew the holes closed many times. It didn’t put an end to the allure the doll held for her daughter, something that pleased Sela.
“Blue eyes the same color as yours, my sweet,” she said, kissing her daughter’s forehead. How could she explain her daughter to someone like Connor Grant, who’d lived his whole life a free man? She’d given birth to the lassie about a year after she’d been stolen away from her home, forced to do her abusers’ bidding. She’d hated every moment of her life until wee Claray, the most perfect being on the face of the earth, had come along.
But the bastards had turned her daughter into a weapon to be used against her.
If she didn’t do as they ordered, they didn’t just punish her—they threatened to punish Claray, something she could never allow. She would need to devise a way for them to escape someday, before her daughter grew into a woman, but none of her plans had worked thus far. After her last escape attempt went awry, Hord had unleashed his worst on her.
Every night she prayed that someone would come along and put an arrow into Hord’s black heart. Guy and Dee, too.
It appalled her to think of the lives they’d ruined for coin and wealth and their own personal satisfaction.
It horrified her to know she’d played some small part in it.
The door opened and Hord stepped inside. His eyes had a way of looking into a person, as if assessing how best to hurt them. She held Claray close.
“Are you not going to thank Hord for your boon?”
Refusing to look at the twisted man’s face, she said, “My thanks, Hord.”
“Was this not a pleasant surprise for you?”
He spoke the truth—she’d expected punishment, not the boon, not her dearest daughter. Besides which, Hord didn’t award boons, Guy and Dee did. She hadn’t expected to be given her boon early, especially after what had happened.
“Well?”
“Aye, this was a most pleasant surprise and I am grateful,” she lied. She’d never be grateful to the bastard.
“Come along,” he said, spinning around to head out of the small chamber. Four guards stood outside, not a good sign, but she followed him with Claray. He led her down an unfamiliar passageway, then down a set of stairs. She had not spent much time in this castle, so she was unprepared for where they were going. Carrying her daughter, she tried to stay as calm as possible, hoping Claray would not sense her discomfort.
“Where are we going, Mama?” her wee lassie asked. Her daughter’s innocence pleased her so much. How she prayed it would never be taken from her.
“I’m not sure, sweetling,” she said.
They came to a door and Hord stood to the side, saying, “After you, my dear.”
She stepped into the dark chamber, fear crawling up the back of her spine, but she reminded herself that she still had wee Claray with her, so she had not been brought here for punishment. Punishment always came to her alone.
The door slammed behind her and she spun on her heel, still clutching her daughter.
Nay, nay, nay!
“Mama, ’tis so dark in here.”
She kissed her daughter’s forehead, forcing herself to act calm. “Do not worry, Mama is here.” Through the closed door, she pleaded, “Hord, please, not my daughter. Please?” Her voice cracked a wee bit, but Claray did not seem to notice.
The chamber was quite small and empty, not a stool or chest around. Hord did not reply for some time, but he finally said, “This should convince you to do as you are ordered. I have a surprise for you, my dear. I’ve sought out my favorite kind, the kind that like to bite.”
A small movement caught her eye at the bottom of the door—a smaller door was being opened. A familiar rustling sound forced her into action.
“Nay, nay, nay!!!” she shouted it out loud this time. Her daughter’s eyes widened.
Spiders. The hoarder of spiders, as Hord was known, loved nothing better than to unleash the creatures on his victims. He spent hours searching in dark corners for them.
She screamed, but if she allowed fear to overwhelm her, Claray would pay the price.
How could she protect her? She held her now-squirming daughter with one arm and tore her own gown off, wrapping it around the wee lass as tightly as she could, covering every bit of skin.
Claray was crying now, but she could not let that stop her.
“Nay, nay! Please let us out! I’ll not talk to him again. I promise!” She cried giant tears as hundreds of spiders invaded the chamber in a hideous wave. They immediately started crawling everywhere, including up her bare legs, her arms.
“Mama, what are those things?” Claray said between sobs.
Sela’s feet stomped and stomped as she fought to keep the beasts off her precious daughter. “Close your eyes, Claray. Keep your mouth closed.”
“Ow, Mama. They hurt. Ow…” The dress was not protecting her skin as much as Sela had hoped. She had to do something…the spiders were biting her legs, her arms, her neck, crawling up the walls all around her, but she had to think. She had to protect her daughter.
Lord above, help me. What do I do?
She crushed as many spiders as she could, then laid her daughter down on the ground, covering her with her body to protect her. “Put your face inside Mama’s gown. Do not look out.”
Sobs wracked her, but she covered her daughter, both hands reaching out to crush and kill every spider that came near.
Kill them, kill them, kill them. Protect Claray, protect her. Help her.
She fought and fought, even when she thought she would surely pass out, forcing herself to stay awake to kill every last one. When the spiders’ advance began to slow, she finally heard the eerie sound she hated most of all.
Hord laughed gleefully outside the chamber.
When she thought she’
d nearly killed them all, she stood, looking at the walls, reaching out and killing more. Her skin burned with bites.
Claray cried against her chest. Peeking her head out, she asked, “Mama, are they gone? You saved me from them!”
Her daughter clung to her and began to hum a song, a balm to her soul. It was a song she oft sang to comfort Claray, and she knew her wee daughter was attempting to cheer her. The door opened and Vern came in, his eyes wide with alarm. “Och, lass. You did a fine job protecting her, but you…”
Her legs could no longer hold her up. She collapsed into Vern’s arms, and the last thing she recalled was her friend saying, “Do not worry. I will take care of her. She’s not hurt badly.”
Chapter Six
Thorn waited and waited. He’d done good finding Sela, and he knew he’d given Connor the right directions.
So where the hell was he?
Unsure of what to do, he stood outside the curtain wall, looking about for signs of what might be happening inside, but all was quiet.
Oddly silent.
Until he heard the keening sound of a lass in pain, a horrible cry unlike anything he’d ever heard before.
Sela. It had to be Sela.
He must find Connor and tell him.
He scampered up the curtain wall, jumped down, and ran to the keep. There was no one about, and so he was able to sneak in through the back with ease. He found that odd because there’d been several guards before.
Once inside, the screams of the lass he thought to be Sela continued, a sound that scared him. What would make the Ice Queen scream like that?
He didn’t wish to know. Connor could find her and help her, but first he needed to find him.
He crept down the passageway toward Sela’s chamber just in time to see the door open. He hid in an alcove and waited. Ten guards came out chuckling about something.
Highland Brawn (The Band of Cousins Book 8) Page 4