Page 49 of The Highlander’s Defiant Bride

She lifted her gaze then into the storm in his eyes, and beneath it, the hurt.

That cut deeper than any fury ever could.

*

Cameron clenched his teeth, biting back the anger that pressed hard against restraint—words of betrayal he would not give voice to. Instead, he dismissed the guards with a barked command, his voice harder than steel. When the men hurried down the stairs, the tower fell into silence, except for Destiny’s uneven breaths and the muffled curses of the prisoner.

He paced, his boots echoing against the stones, trying to burn off the fury twisting in his chest. He should haul her before the council, make her confess her treason openly. He should set her aside as an example that not even his wife stood above the clan’s safety.

But when he turned back, torchlight caught her face, and he saw no pride, no cunning. Only fear. Only anguish.

“Do you understand what nearly happened?” His voice came low, taut with restrained rage. “One turn of that key, and every man under my command would be at risk. The Mackenzies would be emboldened, the clan weakened. You would have undone all this clan has sacrificed to hold us together.”

She flinched. “I know.”

His breath hissed through his teeth. “And still you tried.”

Her eyes shone, tears spilling freely now. “I was going to, aye. I cannot deny that. But in the end, I could not do it.” Her breath broke. “I know that is not what you saw.” She swallowed hard. “Now Sorcha will suffer, and whatever is done to her will be on me. Her blood will be on my hands.” Destiny lifted her gaze to his, raw and pleading. “Would you not do the same if it were Gavan or Kenzie they threatened?”

The words struck sharp. He thought of Kenzie and of Gavan, his foolish brother, who was hot-tempered and half-crippled now by Sorcha’s bullet. Aye, even Gavan, with all his flaws . . . Cameron himself would accept death before letting harm come to his brother. Cameron’s gaze returned to Destiny’s. He pressed his lips thin, torn between laird and man.

When Cameron felt some measure of control return, he stepped closer, his shadow falling over Destiny. He did not touch her. His hands remained clenched at his sides, the distance between them deliberate.

“You cannot carry this alone,” he said, his voice low, stripped of warmth. “And you cannot stand between your father and the Mackenzies without it changing you.”

He turned away, pacing a single step, as if the stone itself were the only thing holding him steady. “I will have to send men to Clyth,” he went on. “Good men. I will weaken my own defences to do it. They will cross Mackenzie land and move where an ambush will be waiting for them.” He faced her again, his eyes hard. “Some of them may not return home.”

The words were not an accusation. They were consequence. It was exactly what she had feared, but this was his choice, not hers.

“The staff at Clyth will give you no resistance. They all love Sorcha and will be eager to help.”

Silence stretched, heavy and unforgiving.

“When this is over,” he finally said, his voice roughening, “we will speak of what you almost did. Of what you kept from me.” His jaw tightened. “Do not mistake action for absolution.”

Destiny’s breath stuttered. She nodded once, barely.

“Next time,” he said, the command as sharp as drawn steel, “you come to me. Before keys are taken in hand. Before lines are crossed.”

“Cameron. . .” Her voice broke. “I am sorry.”

He did not answer.

He turned away, already issuing orders in his mind, already carrying the weight she had placed upon him—men to send, risks to take, trust left cracked and bleeding between them.” Go back to the hall,” he said, his tone quieter now, though no less firm. “I will deal with the prisoner, and with your father. But Destiny . . .”

She paused at the threshold, her hand tightening on the fabric of her gown.

“If you ever put this clan at risk again,” Cameron said, his gaze hard on hers, “not even my heart will save you.”

Her breath shuddered, but she nodded once and disappeared into the shadows of the stairwell.

Cameron stayed behind, his hand braced on the cold iron bars of the cell, his chest tight. His heart warred with his duty, and for the first time, he feared both would tear him apart.

Chapter Sixteen

Destiny knew she should go directly to the great hall as she had been instructed, but her feet had another idea. Instead, she found herself heading for the guest chamber the Munros had given her father. She knocked once on the door and entered without waiting for a response.

Her father sat before the hearth. The fire burned low, casting more shadow than warmth. A cup of wine rested in his hand, another half-empty on the table beside him. The air was thick with smoke and sour drink. He looked up and smiled.