Page 59 of Promised to the Cursed Laird

"Nae."

"Neilina—"

"Nae." She stepped back properly this time, putting real distance between them, her chin coming up despite the throbbing at her temple. "I willnae be locked inside a ring of guards because a stranger tried tae drag me off a street. I've spent my whole life being managed by men convinced they kent better than me what danger required, and I'll nae start living it again now, whatever almost happened today."

He looked at her a long moment, jaw working, and she watched him weigh the argument and, for once, choose not to press it further.

“I am not locking ye away.”

“Then stop ordering men tae follow me everywhere I go.”

“They're there tae keep ye safe.”

“I have managed tae survive this long without four armed men breathing down my neck.”

“Ye nearly died.”

“Yer guards did.”

The words landed. Marcas's face went still. Neilina immediately wished she could take them back, but she was too angry to soften them now.

“I willnae spend the rest of my time at MacKinnon being treated as though I am some helpless thing that must be guarded behind walls.”

His jaw flexed. For a moment she thought he would argue. Instead, he looked past her towards the road where the dead man still lay, then back to her.

"Fine," he said, low. "For now. But we're speaking of this properly once ye've rested, and I willnae be argued out of it a second time."

She didn't answer that, only turned toward the horses, her whole body still humming with adrenaline that had nowhere to go. She let him help her mount without further comment. Whatever fight she had left in her, she needed it for later, once the shaking properly started again.

By the time they reached her chamber, Neilina had managed to convince herself that she was fine.

She had sat straight in the saddle on the ride back. She had answered when spoken to. She had even managed to snap at Marcas when he tried once more to examine the cut at her temple. She had been fine.

The moment the door closed behind them, her hands began to shake again.

Neilina stared at them.

"Nae."

The word came out barely above a whisper. She curled her fingers into fists, pressing her nails into her palms, willing them to stop. They did not.

The room was too quiet. There was no shouting outside now. No horses screaming. No boots pounding against the road. No man's hand locked around her arm.

But her body remembered. She could feel it all again. The grip around her arms, the blow to the side of her head, the crushing pressure around her waist, the horses waiting at the end of the road.

Her breath caught. She closed her eyes, and suddenly she was back there.

Get her.

The words seemed to echo inside her skull. Neilina's knees weakened. She caught the edge of the table. Marcas moved instantly.

"Neilina."

She shook her head.

"I am fine."

It was the same lie she had been telling him since the attack. Her voice broke on the last word. Marcas came closer, but he did not touch her.