Graham brought his face close to Lachlan’s. “She told me that Lena would still be alive if she had appointed ye to watch over her.”
The revelation made Lachlan flinch. In her grief, their mother, had said words that had driven a wedge between the two brothers, and Lachlan had never known. He reached for Graham, but he jerked away. “Dunnae touch me.”
“Graham,” Lachlan choked out, his throat aching with pain for all the lost years. “She was grieving and said something she did nae mean.”
“She meant it,” Graham replied flatly. “She had a thousand chances to correct it, and she never did. And she was right. If I’d nae gone to chase that rabbit to prove to her I could hunt as well as ye, Lena would be alive.”
Lachlan damned himself silently to hell for ever teasing his brother, who now looked haunted, angry, and close to destroying himself. Lachlan didn’t think he could despise himself more than he did in that moment. But then he thought of Bridgette, how he’d been too weak to stop what was happening between them and how he would make the same choice again because he loved her that much, and he hated himself more.
“I’m nae worthy to be yer brother,” Lachlan said hoarsely. “It was I that failed ye. I teased ye when Mother said ye were nae a good hunter. I should have taught ye, as was my duty. If I’d done so, ye would nae have felt ye had anything to prove.”
Graham looked through Lachlan as if he didn’t even hear him, and when he spoke, his words seemed to confirm that he had not been listening. “I’ve spent my life trying to be as good as ye. I never am. I thought if I could be as good a warrior, or hunter, or even as silver-tongued with the lasses, then Mother would love me. But I was nae as good at anything. Ye’ve always been the better warrior, hunter, and the lasses always fell at yer feet. Ye did nae care for any of them, yet they tried to be with ye.” He shook his head. “Mother died before I could best ye at anything, but I’ve nae been able to rid myself of the desire to best ye. I needed to prove it to myself, and with Bridgette, I saw the chance.”
Fear for Graham clogged Lachlan’s throat. The prediction the seer had told Bridgette rang in his hears:Jealousy will drive him to his death, whereupon vengeance shall resurrect him.
Desperate to save Graham, Lachlan grabbed his arm and gripped it so Graham would have to listen and could not flee. “Ye dunnae need to be jealous of me. Ye’re worthy in yer own right. Ye always have been.”
Graham stared at Lachlan with dead eyes. “Since ye’re nae my brother any longer,” Graham growled, “I absolve ye of yer vow to watch over me. Though I kinnae rightly say ye were any good at that.” Graham spat on the ground toward Lachlan’s feet, yanked his arm free, and stormed off.
Lachlan stood for a moment, frozen in utter torment, his fear that the seer had been correct deepening. He’d failed his brother twice—once with Lena and once with Bridgette. He’d change the first if he could, but he could not truthfully say he would change the second. Could he live with that guilt? He’d have to because he could not live without Bridgette. Yet he could not claim her as his wife yet, as he wanted to do so without further enraging Graham and that left him with a fear for her that battled his worry for Graham.
Lachlan stalked into the night with thoughts of Bridgette in his head. He wanted to go straight to her, but there was so much anger boiling in him he knew he needed to rid himself of some of it first. The best way he knew to do that was train.
His hand came to his sword as he strode toward the seagate stairs, away from the castle and the demons that were chasing him.
