Chapter Ten

 

 

 

The darkness pulsed thick around her. It was so complete that she couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed.

Damp earth encased her, as if she’d been buried alive. The stench of waste clogged her nose. A drip sounded somewhere, matching her hammering heartbeat.

Oh God. Nay! She was back there again. The root cellar. Mayhap she had never left. Mayhap this was to be her eternity, never to escape, never to know aught but this black, cold hell.

Some small, clawed creature scurried across her legs. She screamed and thrashed, kicking it away. It squealed in anger but then fell silent. Had it retreated to whatever hole it had emerged from, or was it coming closer once again?

“Mairin.”

The voice belonged to an Englishman—one of her tormentors.

A moan rose in her throat. What would it be this time? Would they toss a crust of bread or a waterskin into her earthen cage, letting a few blessed rays of light in through the door overhead as they did? Or mayhap it would be a rat they threw inside, chuckling at their sport and watching as she struggled to kill and eat the creature.

Or mayhap there would be no food at all, only their hissed taunts and low-spoken assurances of what they would do to her body if she weren’t a filthy, half-starved Scottish witch.

Nay, she wouldn’t let them touch her. She would fling her own waste at them when they came to torment her, screaming like a mad banshee, even if it meant they’d close the hatch over her prison and take away those blessed slivers of light all the sooner.

Her threats and curses had worked up until now, for they’d never descended into the bowels of the cellar to make good on their vile promises.

But not this time.

An invisible hand closed over her shoulder, squeezing. “Mairin.”

She cried out and tried to twist away, but it felt as though the darkness held her immobile, suffocating her, closing in to swallow her whole.

She clawed blindly, making contact with something solid. Now the grip on her shoulder tightened and gave her a shake.

“Mairin, wake up!”

Mairin jerked upright with a deep gasp, as if she’d just broken the surface of an inky black ocean. She opened her eyes, but she was still adrift in a sea of darkness.

“Nay!”

Hands clamped on her shoulders once more.

“It was only a dream.” It was the same Englishman’s voice that had echoed through her nightmare. But nay, this wasn’t one of her tormentors.

Niall.

Confusion twisted her mind. She wasn’t in the root cellar. Her captors could no longer torture her. She was safe with Niall.

But the darkness…the darkness gripped her like a vise.

A strangled cry squeezed from her throat.

“What is it?” Niall was close, his voice filled with concern. “What do you need?”

“Light,” she managed to croak.

Niall cursed softly. “The fire has gone out. And the candle has burned itself down as well. I should have woken to stoke the fire. I should have—. It doesn’t matter now.”

His hands vanished from her shoulders and he moved off somewhere in the black chamber.

It felt as though the whole world tilted sideways. With naught to gain her bearings and pitch-darkness pressing in, Mairin was anchorless. Her breaths came short and sharp, her heartbeat slamming in her ears.

“Nay, dinnae leave me!” she cried.

Suddenly one of his hands returned, clumsily fumbling for her. He slid down her arm until his hand closed over hers, entwining their fingers tightly.

“I won’t. Not ever.” He gave her hand a squeeze before continuing. “Hold on to me. I’m going to open the shutter to give us a little light.”

Mairin gripped him as if he were a rope and she was drowning. Shame and humiliation whispered at the back of her mind—she was weak, pathetic, naught but a scared bairn. Distantly, she knew she would torture and berate herself later for this wretched display, but for now all she could do was cling onto Niall and listen to the roar of her own pulse.

She heard him fumble with the latch for a moment, and then a slice of silver light slashed through the thick darkness, followed by a blast of cold air.

The wind must have chased away the last of the storm, for the half-moon hung stark white against the clear night sky. Its light reflected off the fresh blanket of snow covering everything outside, making the whole world seem to glow a bluish silver.

Mairin drew in a shuddering breath. The inn room was no longer a shapeless void of black. Now, its contours were once again clear and familiar.

As was Niall. He stood before the open window, his large, lean form frosted in silvery light. His blue eyes were riveted on her and his russet brows were lowered in concern.

She still held his hand, her grip so tight that her knuckles had gone white, yet he did not pull away. Instead, he moved toward her.

He sat on the edge of the bed, carefully adjusting their hands so that he didn’t bend her wrist. “Better?”

Mairin swallowed and forced herself to nod. “Aye.”

“You were having a nightmare. Thrashing and moaning in your sleep.”

Despite the cold air still rushing into the room, heat rose in her cheeks.

“Aye, that…that happens sometimes.”

He kept his tone gentle, but he watched her with keen eyes. “Because of the darkness?”

He knew. He knew she was afraid of the dark, like a silly child.

There had once been a time, in the early months after Logan had freed her from her captivity, that the outside world had inflicted far too many sensations, too much overwhelming noise and color and light. Mairin had retreated into the dark, taking comfort in its numbing embrace. She’d hardly left the dim confines of the hut she’d shared with Logan in those first months.

Eventually she’d gotten stronger. She’d begun learning to defend herself. But as she’d grown accustomed to the outside world once more, the darkness had come to represent everything she feared, everything she’d endured in that black hellhole somewhere in the middle of England. Now, it brought on a nigh-choking terror that left her blubbering and boneless.

And Niall knew. She had tried to hide her weakness, but in such close quarters, how could she have hoped to keep it from him?

“N-nay, no’ because of the darkness.” The dark merely prompted the memories of her captivity. But she couldn’t bring herself to say that. The tattered remains of her pride demanded that she defend what few secrets she had left.

Slowly, he reached out and swept a lock of hair back from her face. His thumb lingered on her cheek, the barest of touches.

“Whatever was tormenting you, it wasn’t real.”

Mairin closed her eyes, willing back the fresh surge of fright. “Oh aye, it was,” she whispered.

“You’re shaking.”

Belatedly, she realized he was right. Her whole body trembled and gooseflesh had risen on her bare arms.

Niall glanced at the open window with a frown. “You will freeze like this.” He started to rise from the bed, but Mairin yanked on the hand she still held captured in her own.

“Nay, please! Dinnae…”

What? Close the window? Move away? Stop touching her?

She faltered then, her pride warring with her fear. The need for Niall’s nearness won out. “Please, dinnae go.”

His blue eyes locked with hers, steady and fierce. “I won’t,” he repeated. “Not ever. I promise.”

He gently eased her back down onto the bed and pulled the blankets around her shoulders, all the while keeping her hand tucked into his. He sat perched on the edge of the bed, solid and unmoving despite the frosty air swirling through the room.

Mairin fought to escape into the oblivion of slumber, but her muscles remained knotted and her teeth chattered faintly. Whether it was from the cold or the memories, she couldn’t say. Time stretched, yet sleep would not come.

A long while later, she heard Niall let a breath go.  Wordlessly, he drew back the blankets and slid into the bed beside her.

She stiffened, but before she could ask what he meant to do, he enfolded her in his arms and hauled her against his chest.

He was so warm, so solid at every point they pressed together. Pine resin and wood smoke and his unique, masculine scene enveloped her. He at last extracted his hand from hers, but instead of withdrawing it completely, he rested it on her head, stroking her hair slowly.

She couldn’t help the tears that pricked her eyes then. Couldn’t be strong anymore. She melted into him, her face pressed into his chest to muffle her cries, her shoulders shaking beneath his hands.

“There now.” The low rumble of his voice reverberated through her. “I am here with you. Let yourself rest easy.”

And for the first time that Mairin could remember, she did.