Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
His gaze flickered for just a second. Then his hand struck her again, snapping her head to the side with the force of the blow.
Dru’s cheek stung but she didn’t care. The thought that her husband might be dead unleashed her fury.
“You told me that my mother knew Lord Randall before she left the clan. That she chose him over duty.” Dru shook her head, rage rising in her throat like fire. “You lied. She didn’t run away to be with someone. She ran to escape someone.”
Callan went to hit her again and she ducked and punched him in the stomach, hitting him in just the right place to illicit a groan from him.
“You’re going to learn your place,” Callan said, through gritted teeth as he dealt with the pain.
“Tell me what hell you were condemning my mum to.” Her voice trembled now, from more than cold or fear. She wanted answers. She needed them. “What happened, Callan? What the hell was my mum running from?”
For a moment, the woods went quiet. Callan’s jaw shifted, as if grinding down words he didn’t want to say. He looked past her, into the shadows.
Dru stared at him, heart thudding. “Are you too much of a coward to tell me?”
“At least your mother knew how to hold her tongue, but you’ll learn how to hold yours soon enough,” he sneered as if victory was his.
“Not likely,” she snapped. “I got my tenaciousness from you. I’ll never give in.”
Callan’s face contorted with something darker than anger—wounded pride, buried fury. “Duty. That’s what your mother spat on. That’s what she ran from.”
Dru blinked, startled by the venom in his voice.
“She had a duty to her clan. To me. To our people. But instead of doing what was necessary, she chose cowardice.”
He took a step closer, jabbing a finger at her chest. “You want the truth? You want to hear how your mother failed her clan? How much her clan hates her. I’ll tell you. An agreement was struck. A northern clan—strong, brutal, but rich in weapons and numbers. They promised warriors in exchange for blood ties. Your mother was to wed the chieftain’s son. That was the price.”
Dru’s stomach turned. “You said brutal clan. Did you promise her to a monster?”
Callan’s eyes flared. “Some believed him so. Two wives buried before him, both bruised and broken. But he kept his word. He fought for those he claimed. And with his men, I could’ve taken the high glens, the western hills. I could’ve secured the clan’s future. Especially against Clan Glencairn, Lord Randall having his sights set on several of the northern clans.”
“So, you sacrificed her?” Dru could only imagine the horror and fear her mum must have known and it broke her heart. “She would have suffered at his hands.”
“She would have saved us!” he roared, the forest echoing his fury. “Instead, she vanished. Gone without a word, disappeared into the mist. And the alliance crumbled.” His hands curled into fists. “The Northmen turned on us. We were nearly wiped out. My warriors died. Our stores were burned. Crofts torched. Our people starved because of her.”
Dru felt her pulse throb at her throat. “Yet you said nothing, did nothing all these years…”
“I couldn’t.” Callan’s voice dropped, bitter now. “I had no time to search for her. No men to spare. No coin to send south. I buried what she did because I had to keep the clan standing on its last, splintered legs.” He stepped closer to her. “And you, granddaughter, will redeem our honor. You will wed the son of the warrior your mother should have wed, and with their army of savage warriors, I will lay claim to endless clans surrounding mine, including Clan Glencairn, and I will see your half-brother dead.”
Pain dragged Knox from the dark, clawing him back into his body like a curse. The ache in his skull pulsed with every heartbeat, and the cold earth beneath him had seeped into his bones.
He blinked.
Dru.
He had to get to Dru.
A shadow moved beside him, crouched at the edge of a low-burning fire. Broad shoulders. Dark hair, the fire’s light highlighting the silver strands running through it.
Knox pushed himself up on an elbow with a groan.
“About time you woke.”
Knox blinked harder, his vision slowly sharpening. “Quint?”
The man turned his head, one brow arching. “So, you remember me.”
“Hard to forget the way you cut through men like wheat or that you’re infamously known as The Monk, for reasons I won’t mention.”
“Wise decision.”
Knox sat up and pressed a hand to his temple, fingers coming away bloody. “What are you doing here?”
Quint stirred the fire absently. “A message came a while ago. Said if I didn’t hear from Dru within a certain time, it meant she was in trouble, and she needed my help.” He looked up, eyes sharp. “She’s a friend. Helped me once. I owe her.”