Doon

I could only hope the MacCrae would listen to reason, or at least allow me to speak to Jamie.

We wound our way up narrow, torch-lit stairs that seemed to go on for a mile. I swallowed compulsively, trying to force moisture into my parched throat, but only succeeded in upsetting my already-churning stomach.

At the top of the stairs, Kenna and I followed Fergus’s hulk-like form down a dim corridor, Gideon’s overbearing presence our ever-present shadow. We entered a circular room smelling of stale wood-smoke and dust. Sun streamed through a bank of diamond-paned windows, causing me to blink like a rat coming up from the sewer and almost slam into Fergus as he stopped.

After returning Kenna’s wobbly smile, I let my gaze wander. Two guards stood on either side of the circular space, hands locked behind their backs, the dark brown of their leather vests blending with the rectangles of wood paneling that covered the walls. An unlit candelabra hung on a long chain, almost brushing Fergus’s pale hair. I tilted my head back, following the gilded chain of the chandelier to an oak-paneled ceiling carved into geometric sections that when viewed as a whole resembled a blooming flower. If I hadn’t been shaking in my Nikes, I would’ve been impressed.

An unnatural hush fell over the room, and all the guards pivoted to face forward. Since I couldn’t see around the giant wall of Fergus, I assumed the MacCrae had arrived.

“Where are the lasses?” asked a deep, melodic voice.

I knew that voice.

Fergus stepped aside to reveal the boy of my dreams sitting on a throne-like chair. A jewel-encrusted circlet rested atop his blond head, but something more than the crown held the room in thrall. Despite his casual posture, he radiated a natural authority, as if he’d been born to command men. His somber regard moved from Fergus, down to me, and stopped.

Slowly, he rose to his feet. All the sounds in the room faded away as our gazes caught and held. Something like hunger filled his dark eyes as they roamed over my face to my lips and back up again.

My heart beat so hard, I feared everyone in the room would hear it. Longing exploded across my body and I stepped toward him, lifting my hand. I’d been waiting for this moment—

His whole body stiffened and he scowled at my outstretched hand. I could almost feel the cold radiating from him as, without a word, he turned his back, the fur-trimmed hem of his cape fluttering against my outstretched fingers.

The blood drained from my head and pooled somewhere near my feet as sounds rushed through my ears like a roaring tide. I stumbled back several steps. Didn’t he recognize me? He’d been the one stalking me, for heaven’s sake!

“Gideon,” Jamie barked as he sat back on his throne. “Approach.”

“My laird.” Gideon moved from behind me and bent in a stiff bow. “These girls utilized the witch’s magic to infiltrate our borders. For the safety o’ the kingdom, they must be imprisoned.”

Kenna stepped forward, palms held in front of her. “Whoa, there. I’m not going back to that hellhole. You can’t hold us without evidence. We have rights!”

Gideon spun to face us, grasping the hilt of his sword. “Not in Doon ye don’t, witch. Now hold yer tongue.”

Kenna put her hands on her hips and stepped toward him, raising herself up to her full height. “Make me, you bald rent-a-cop!”

Her bravado was admirable, but in this case I was pretty sure it was going to get us skewered. “Kenna, seriously! Now is not the time—” I pushed my impulsive friend behind me, wedging myself between her and our jailer.

“Enough!” Jamie rumbled from his throne, a dangerous edge to his voice. “Gideon, stand down.” The MacCrae had spoken. Immediately, Gideon took several steps back, but the feverish light didn’t fade from his eyes.

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