“Are ye ready to submit to me?” Gillis demanded, grinning.
Alex shook his head and spit toward Gillis. “I’ll nae ever break,” he vowed, keeping his gaze on Ginny. He’d developed a liking for her over the last year. She was the cook’s daughter, and she had taken to secretly giving Alex sweet treats when she brought them their water after training. How did she fit into Gillis’s plan?
He didn’t have to wonder long. Gillis snatched her up, tugged her head back, and slit her throat. Alex felt his mouth working. A scream was lodged there as he watched the blood pour out and Ginny crumble. Gillis let her drop like a spoiled sack of grain. She made horrid sounds for a moment before falling silent. Alex’s stomach cramped, and then rage dotted his vision red. He yanked on his tied hands and feet to no avail. When the blood dripped down his wrists, he finally quit the hopeless task.
Gillis eyed Alex and pointed the bloody dagger at him. “Every day that ye deny my wish, I’ll kill someone ye care for. I think tomorrow it will be Thomas.”
Alex awoke with a roar, sweat-drenched and fiercely enraged. He saw and heard movement at the same moment, and his mind snapped to his dream. It blurred with what he knew to be here and now, and he lunged across the room, wrapping his hands around Gillis’s neck. Blood pounded in his temples as he squeezed.
Fingers grasped his hands, pulling and wrenching, and then nails dug into his skin. “Alex!” Lena cried out, her voice strained against the force of his effort to strangle her.
Christ!He released her instantly, heard her stagger away, hit the wall, and gasp huge breaths. His heartbeat pounded a cacophony in his ears, but when it quieted and his breathing had settled, silence permeated the room. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he could see Lena, her back hugging the wall, the whites of her eyes large in the shadows, and her pale hands pressed against her own neck.
“Lena.” It was all he could get out before his voice cracked over the sorrow that threatened to consume him. He dropped to his knees, overwhelmed with the knowledge that he could have killed her when all he wanted to do was protect her. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, burying his face in his hands.
Hands touched his shoulders, and then her fingers threaded into his hair. She tugged at his head, trying to get him to look up at her. “Alex, look at me,” she pleaded. He couldn’t bring himself to do so, knowing what he’d done and how the trust that had been in her eyes earlier would likely be gone. “Please, Alex.”
He shook his head, and then suddenly she kneeled and touched her forehead to his. “I’m nae afraid of ye, Alex.”
Her words shot terror to his heart. He brought his head up and pulled back from her, or he tried to, at least. She grasped his neck, her fingers curling tightly around him with surprising determination and strength. “I am nae afraid of ye,” she said again, her voice sure and insistent.
“Ye should be,” he growled. “I almost killed ye.”
“Nay, though ye did give me quite a fright and I’ll likely have a bruise on my neck,” she said, her voice raspy.
“My God,” he moaned, clenching his jaw and curling his fists. “Return to yer bedchamber,” he begged. “Stay away from me until morning.”
“Shh,” she replied and brushed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Ye’re nae a monster that will turn at the blink of an eye. Ye’re a man who simply had a bad dream.”
He stared at her, awed by the strength she showed. “Ye’ve changed,” he said, pride nearly choking him.
“Aye.” She nodded and slipped her hands from his neck to his shoulders. She pressed her cheek against his heart and placed her hands on his chest. He glanced down at the top of her head, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around her but afraid she would not welcome his touch. “I need to feel ye, Alex.” She looked up at him, her gaze beseeching. “Will ye nae hold me and make me feel safe?”
“How can I make ye feel safe after what just occurred?” he asked, incredulous.
“Well,” she replied slowly, “ye’re nae asleep. I’m nae such a fool to linger or come into yer room if ye’re asleep again, but ye’re nae now, so…”
He pulled her to him, needing to feel her just as she had admitted to needing him. He ran a hand over her silken tresses and hugged her to him. “Dunnae ever come into my room again when ye ken I’m having a bad dream. Do ye hear me?” She nodded, but when she did not give her promise in words, he grasped her chin and tilted her face to him. “Vow it.”
Her chin jutted out stubbornly. “I vow I’ll nae for now, but I kinnae vow I’ll nae forever. Ye are my husband, and I want to sleep the night with ye.”
His chest squeezed at her words and at the realization of just how deeply he was coming to care for her. Oh, he’d cared for people—his sister, Donald, his clan—but it was different. With all of them, he could keep a certain shield in place and there was never a danger of losing control, but with Lena… “I want to give ye everything, Lena, but I kinnae give ye that.”
“Ye can,” she insisted. “Ye’re just nae ready to. But I’ll be patient, as ye have been with me, and I’ll show ye I’m braw enough to ken whatever secrets ye’re hiding.”
Instead of answering her, because it would not be what she would want to hear, he enfolded her in his arms once more and rested his chin on top of her head. His dream was fresh in his mind, the image of Ginny’s dead face seared into his memory. He would protect Lena no matter the price, even though it meant hurting her by denying her now.
As if she sensed what he was thinking, she climbed silently onto his lap and snuggled in his arms. And soon, his foolish, beautiful, suddenly much too courageous wife was soundly snoring. He sat for a long time, relishing in holding her as she slept. He memorized the pattern of her breathing and simply stared at her lovely face. When he felt his own eyes grow heavy, he carefully stood and moved Lena to her own bedchamber, where he laid her gently on the bed. After covering her, he departed, shutting her door, then entering his own chamber and locking his door. He had to keep the demons in, just as he always had since the day Gillis had broken him, and now he had to keep his wife out. Pain sliced his belly at the thought of it, but this was how it had to be.
Ten
“What happened to yer neck?” Marsaili asked, her voice low but not low enough. Lena paused with her hands in the cool bread dough and indicated the rail-thin, brown-haired woman who had been stirring the stew near the fires. The woman had stopped mid-stroke the minute Marsaili had asked Lena the question, and the woman had actually turned her body partially toward them. Lena sensed the woman was listening to them.
Marsaili motioned to the kitchen door and Lena nodded, pulling her hands from the dough and wiping them on her skirts. A few of the women in the kitchen glanced up from their tasks to eye Marsaili and Lena with wary looks, but most simply continued what they had been doing. When the door to the kitchens closed behind Lena, and she and Marsaili had moved far enough away that she was sure no one would overhear them, she blew out a frustrated breath.
“The women are less friendly this morning than they were upon meeting me yesterday,” she said.
Marsaili nodded and took a seat on the log that Lena had dejectedly plopped down upon. “Aye. I overheard some of the women gossiping before ye came into the kitchens to offer yer help. Apparently, Fardley is a favorite amongst the women, and they blame ye for his punishment.”
