“I’m no’ sure she’ll like it,” Kane said for the hundredth time. He held the object in his hands, feeling as if he were going to crush it. His hands were too big and brutish to hold it there, but Brodrick had refused to touch it.

“Of course she will,” his friend said. A frown came over his face. “Though she would have liked my idea much more.”

Kane gave him a skewed look. “Nay, she would no’ have. She prefers trews to dresses—”

“Ye’ donna ken that, Kane. Ye’ just want her in the trews because ye’ like how her arse fills them.”

A flush climbed up his neck. Mayhap he had admitted that after recalling Saeran in a pair of trews. He had just noticed her legs looked quite lovely in them, but it was a bad move on Brodrick to mention that.

“Sure,” he said, running his fingers over the soft gift. “But I donna ken if she’ll have me, so purchasing her a dress for a wedding ceremony—”

“Would have been romantic. My wife would have swooned if I’d done that for her,” Brodrick said wistfully. “Kane! Lord, now we can do manly stuff together, what with you and Saeran being together.”

“We were already doing manly stuff.”

“Aye, but this time it’ll be better, because ye’ll understand the relief of getting a break,” Brodrick said, laughing. “Free time is much different when yer married. Anyone can sit around with a good amount of ale and make jokes, but it’s the added relief of having a moment away from the nagging that makes it better.”

“I highly doubt that I would want time away from Saeran if she agreed to be my wife,” Kane murmured, lifting her present to his face. There wasn’t a full ray of light penetrating it, and he smiled. A feather was just as innocent as Saeran.

Even after her deception, he still thought of her as his wee, innocent lass.

Brodrick had suggested they explore the village for something to give to Saeran, something to lighten her mood. Kane had shared only parts of their conversation with his friend, and though Brodrick had been horrified, he had quickly come up with the idea of getting her a gift.

From the type of woman Blaine was, they had both come to the conclusion that Saeran was not accustomed to being treated with gifts and praise. Kane wanted to do at least one thing right by her, and he planned on this being one of many things she would be showered with.

He did not want to earn her trust or love with gifts, and he would make sure to tell her that right when he presented the elegant quill to her. Nay, he only wanted to show her that she could have nice things in life from the people who loved her, that not everyone was out to use and hurt her. Even Brodrick had agreed to get his wife to start baking goods to present to Saeran.

She would never feel unwelcome or fearful again.

“I love my bonny wife more than anything,” Brodrick said, slapping him on the back. “But I’d gladly go to war instead of listening to her groan about how dirty I am.”

Kane frowned. “She’s no’ complained about a stench around me.”

“Yet,” Brodrick added, shaking his head sadly. “Donna worry, my brother. Soon you will know the hardships of having a wife.”

“Surely the pros outweigh the cons? I’ve never heard ye’ complain about yer wife before, Brod.”

“Of course ye’ haven’t,” Brodrick said, chuckling. “Ye’ never complain about a wife to an unmarried man. They donna understand and I, personally, feel that some of the relief is lost to a man who does no’ share yer troubles.”

“Do ye’ fight often? Is it that…awful?” Mayhap marriage was as terrifying as he had originally thought it to be. Brodrick had never once said a word against having a wife, and though he was not doing that right now, it still made Kane wonder.

“Donna get that look about yer face. I love my wife, and I would gladly sacrifice anything for her. One day, though, ye’ll understand the woes of having a spirited lass as a wife. They donna give up on anything easily.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, staring at Brodrick with a growing sense of unease.

“Nothing, Kane. Nothing.” Brodrick looked ahead of them. The inn was just in front of them. They kicked up dirt as they walked, Kane quickening his pace in anticipation to see Saeran. He smiled, holding the quill in his hands tenderly. Aye, she would love this, and no matter Brodrick’s revelations of the true horrors of marriage, Kane would pursue her and show her that he could be worthy of her trust.

“She will like this better than a dress, I am sure,” he said over his shoulder. Brodrick’s laugh carried behind him as Kane burst into a full run, intent on finding Saeran just as she was waking up. It had taken a bit of time to find the right gift, but she had always been a late and deep sleeper.

The closer he came to the inn, details began to jump out at him. The silence was the main one. Normally, he could hear the inn bustling with life. Since it was the morning, there should have been clients readying themselves for breakfast, but there was not even that.

His stomach began to cramp, and a cold draft washed over him.

Saeran.

His walk turned into a full-fledge charge as he came up to the inn. Throwing the door open, he focused only on finding Saeran, on getting to her room and ensuring she was safe. He stormed up the stairs, taking a sharp turn and then—

Stopped cold.

The quill dropped to the ground.

The door to her room was open. He felt nothing but the beating of his heart as he put his hand to the door, watching it swish open with a silent swing.

His heart rocketed to his feet.

There wasn’t a single person in the room except Connor.

The lad was slumped on the floor, his face turned to the ceiling. Blood was dripping down the side of his face from the side of his nose. Both of his eyes were swollen shut and a bloody mix of red and purple flesh, and his lip was split. Kane felt rage boil deep in his gut. As he came farther into the room, closer to Connor, he realized the lad had put up a fight as best he could. There was one dead body in the corner of the room, a burly man with a knife to his chest.

Kane didn’t spare him another glance as he knelt beside Connor. With shaking hands, he brushed a dark lock of hair away from the lad’s face, taking a closer inventory of injuries. The only thing he’d failed to realize from his spot in the door was the broken arm. It was bent at an ugly angle, with the bone pushing through the skin.

He was close to roaring with his fury, but he couldn’t get it through his throat. Connor had been nearly killed—and Saeran was gone.

“What—oh, fucking bastards,” Brodrick said from behind him. A rushing sound built between Kane’s ears, blocking out the sound of Brodrick’s heavy footsteps. The rushing turned into a thrumming pulse, until he was vibrating with the force of his rage.

He jerked himself to his feet, pointing a finger to Connor. “Take care of him. Find Mabel or her husband—whoever hasn’t died. Someone fix that bastard.” Brodrick knelt, sliding his arms under the lad’s legs and back. A rough, gargled sound came from his throat.

Kane took one look at the color of the dead man’s plaid, and that was all it took. The roar that had been building in his throat broke free. The air seeming to turn into a solid substance as the sound shattered the silence. He threw his head back, letting his wrath crash through him.

* * *

“I hate her,” a low voice sobbed. Saeran turned her head to the voice, eyes heavy with sleep. Lucidity was slow in coming, so she was left questioning who was speaking, and who the speaker hated. “She…stole everything. Ruined everything. I hate them both.”

“I’ll make the blonde one pay.” This one was a male. He sounded bored, uninterested.

“But not the other one? What is their suffering worth if they are not both paying for what they have done to me?”

“She hasn’t done a thing—”

“She tried to steal Kane from me!” the feminine voice growled. Saeran heard the sound of a slap, thinking it had to have been on a table. A woman didn’t hit a man. It was…unheard of. Saeran lifted her hands to rub her eyes—or tried to. She tugged, making a distressed sound. It was as if her hands had been tied down. Trying to lift her head became painful as well. There was a pulsing pain in her stomach, and her head was heavy, like a rock. It thumped back onto the hard surface she had been resting on.

“Tell Blaine she’s awake,” the male voice said. He sounded more alert. There was rustling in the dim room, and one by one, candles were set. Why candles? It was morning…bright as a light. She tugged at the ropes, holding back a whimper when her abdomen stretched. God, what was happening?

“I’m always doing what she—” The blonde was cut off with the sound of a door opened. It came slowly, but Saeran was able to make out three figures. The man, the blonde woman from before, and another one, who was behind them both.

“What who says?” Blaine’s voice came from the figure. Saeran tensed, then began struggling in earnest.

“Blaine? Blaine—what’s going on? Why am I tied up?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” her sister murmured. Saeran locked eyes with her, pleading without words for her to get her out of this. The hope was a dying one, though Blaine did step farther into the room. Why would she help Saeran, after trying to kill her? The hemlock came back to mind and she shuddered, trying to kick out her feet.

Nothing. Tied down just like the rest of her.

“Gwen, get me damn knife. Aurick, please leave. Make sure Gwen stays with you.”

“No, I want to see this—”

“Gwen. Do not make me repeat myself.” She sounded like the exact same Blaine as before, but there was a sternness to her voice, a firmness that struck Saeran as odd. She was…calm, in way. Like Blaine was not surprised this was happening.

“On second thought, Aurick get the dirk. Hurry.”

Once the door was closed, Saeran spoke, “Blaine, what is going on?”

“Well,” her sister said, a look of distaste spreading over her face. “I didn’t expect Gwen to go through such dramatics over bringing you here, first off. Second, I think you have an idea. I know you’ve been snooping around—or at least trying to. You’ve done a poor job of it, really.” Her laugh was genuine. No malice, no bitterness. It was as if they were actual sisters again.

A cold ache spread through Saeran.

The door popped open, and Aurick handed Blaine the knife.

“Thank you,” she murmured. The door closed, and she came up to Saeran, holding the knife. Her eyes widened, and panic spread through her.

“Blaine, what are you—”

“Saeran, please be quiet until I’m done. Really, I’m not going to cut you into pieces.” She proved that to Saeran by slicing through the ropes, both on her hands and feet. She even went as far as to help Saeran sit down. She must have moved too fast, because her abdomen rebelled. “What’s wrong? You’re pale.”

“I hurt…” She recalled the last time she’d told Blaine of her wound from the horse. She wouldn’t care, not really. Better to keep silent and keep her unaware of Saeran’s weakness.

“You hurt, what?” Blaine’s face was a mask as she reached out, taking Saeran by the shoulder. “Tell me. Did Kane hurt you? What—Saeran, God. You’re bleeding.”

She watched in mute amazement as Blaine ran away from the table she’d been tied to, searching frantically for a cloth. She dipped it into the basin. Saeran became aware of her surroundings as a trickle of blood slid down her stomach. They were in a small wooden room with two windows. There was a chair, table, and a bed. A water basin and a tub. It was like a house, all crammed into one. She glanced at the windows, feeling…odd. Like this was surreal. Her sister came back and forced her to lay back, gently dabbing away the blood.

“What happened to you?” she whispered, glancing up at Saeran. She was too shocked to speak. This was a side she’d never seen of her sister. It was like she actually…cared. Her mouth started moving before she could stop it.

“The battle that Kane dragged me off to—the MacLeod chased me down after he saw I killed his son and—”

“You killed his son?”

“I—yes,” she whispered, finding no way around the truth of it.

Blaine’s hands turned even more tender, their movements slowing, as she wiped the rest of the blood away. For whatever reason, tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t explain it. Blaine was being more kind to her than she had in all the years of her life.

“But how did this happen?” Blaine asked, a look of pain crossing her face. She looked like she felt the wound on herself from the look in her eyes.

“He tried to kill me. Kane distracted him enough that his sword didn’t go through my stomach, just skimmed my abdomen.”

“This isn’t a ‘skim’, Saeran,” she said tightly. She shoved herself away from the table, cursing. “I warned him. I warned that bastard about hurting you. I should kill him—”

“What are you talking about?”

Blaine looked at her over her shoulder. “The MacLeod. I told him that if a finger was laid on you, I would kill him. He didn’t take me seriously. It’s his funeral.”

“I—I’m having a hard time following this,” Saeran said. In truth, she was. Her sister had been trying to kill her with hemlock, and now she was going to kill the man who had harmed her? It was so out of the blue that Saeran was struggling to wrap her head around it.

Blaine sighed, sad and low, and sat down beside Saeran. She looked at Blaine, noticing things she would rather not have. Her hair wasn’t powdered, but black and lifeless around her shoulders. Her face was clear of any rouge, terribly pale, and strained. She looked…tired. Beaten. It made it hard to believe this was the woman she had betrayed for Kane. It made it hard to believe that this was the woman who had tried to kill her…who was no longer her sister…

“Fear does a lot of things to people,” Blaine murmured, dropping her gaze to her hands. “Makes us crazy. Makes us do things we don’t comprehend until it’s too late. Fear can turn into anger…jealousy…so many things.

“At first, I never wanted you to get hurt. I had made a mistake at court. A huge, terrible mistake and I took advantage of the opportunities it gave me.” Her hand caressed her stomach, a look of longing embedded into her eyes.

“Tell me,” Saeran whispered. She would no longer hate Blaine after this. As much as she wanted to, for all of the things Saeran had been put through, she couldn’t. This was the real Blaine. The scared, lonely Blaine that had hidden behind a mask of hate and spitefulness. Saeran reached out, taking her hand.

Blaine held onto it like a lifeline, like she needed that hand to breathe.

“Hans found me. At court, he found me and…used me. I couldn’t process your parents’ deaths. I didn’t know what to do or how to feel. I knew from the beginning that they weren’t my true parents, but I…I loved them. When they died, it hit me hard. I couldn’t show you that—I would have looked so weak. I just…Saeran.” She put a hand to her face, resting her elbow on her knee. She was hunched over, looking helpless.

Saeran watched her. “What do you mean, he used you? As in…”

“Like Kane and you, except I…I did not enjoy it. I did it purely for information, for leverage.”

“Oh, God. Blaine—”

“I don’t want your judgement. It helped me get to where I am now,” she said, lifting her eyes to Saeran’s. There was a strength in them that took her back. “I found my father through Grayham. He gave me a way to get close to him.

“I am sorry for the pain that I’ve caused you through my own selfishness and greed, Saeran, but I will never regret it. Not ever. It gave me a chance to learn, to understand who I am. He…helped me. I found out what happened to my mother,” she whispered, tears shining in her eyes.

“I…I would like to know,” Saeran said, oddly sure of that. She should suspect Blaine of using sympathy to make her defenseless, but she sensed none of that. She knew Blaine, knew her attitudes. She was genuinely opening to Saeran, and for the first time with Blaine, she was…happy. Happy that her sister was telling her all of this, even though she didn’t know why.

“Your cousin, King James. My mother was his mistress. She had an affair with my father, James found out, and had her executed. He left my father alone, but…I was sent to live with you when I was six. I was forbidden to ever tell you.”

“So we really aren’t sisters,” Saeran said, feeling her heart clench. The signs were there, of course. They did not resemble each other in the least, she had different parents, and their personalities were different to the point of being polar opposites. The signs were all just…there.

“No,” Blaine said. She squeezed Saeran’s hand. “That doesn’t change the fact that I do love you, in my own twisted, terrible way.”

Saeran shook her head. “Why now? Why tell me all of this now? Why show me your true self…now?”

“I tried everything I could to make you hate me. Everything I could think of.”

“But why?”

“So that when the time came, and I gave you to the MacLeods, you would hate me, not mourn me. I…that is the only excuse I have for you Saeran. I wanted power. I needed it. I still do. When I became pregnant with Grayham’s child, I—”

“Pardon?”

Pain darkened Blaine’s eyes. “King James sent us from court when I came to him with news of my pregnancy. I begged him to make it look as if it were my choice, or everyone would have known. Grayham knew, but he…wanted more than just an adopted heiress.”

“Blaine, my God. Is that why you made me parade around as a lad?”

“To keep you out of my way, yes. Kane and I were going to marry, I was going to poison him, and then Grayham would take me as his wife.”

“But you never…showed.” There should have been signs to Blaine’s pregnancy, right? A swelling in her stomach? Strange cravings?

“I lost it within the first few days of coming here. The ride was too much for my body to handle, and…Gwen helped me through it.” A tear fell down her sister’s cheek. Like always, though, the strong Blaine wiped it away, taking a deep, steadying breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Saeran choked. “I would have…I would have helped you.”

“You would have looked upon me differently. You would have doted to my every need, and I was trying to make you hate me. Saeran, I…” A sob wracked her sister’s hunched body. Saeran wrapped her arms around Blaine, holding her tightly. She had thought Blaine uncaring, unable to feel for anyone but herself. Now, she was seeing so much more…and she hated it. Hated how Blaine had gone through everything alone, without speaking to her.

“I had to…I had to get the baby back. Grayham would have murdered me without it, so I…I went to the MacLeod. I had to find a way to kill Kane, and as his enemy, he was…the MacLeod was perfect. I…I seduced him.”

“Lord... I do not know what to say!” Saeran breathed into her sister’s hair. “Were you…were you going to kill me?”

“No,” Blaine said sharply, pulling away. “The plan was to kill Kane, give you to the MacLeod to appease him, and then I would marry Grayham. After that, I would kill him and take over the Shaw clan and the MacLeods. My father is sick, Sae,” she whispered. “He’s too sick, and I have to make him well. I’ll have enough power in the Highlands, to give him anything he wants.”

“I was just a bargaining tool,” she said, numb. It made sense. She had always felt that way with Blaine, like she had no worth. Her sister felt justified in her reasoning, but…It still made Saeran sick to her stomach.

“Alasdair would have taken care of you,” Blaine said firmly. “See, it’s that hurt in your eyes, the betrayal, that I was trying to avoid. I…everything was for my father. You had everything, Saeran. You had the perfect family, the beauty. Do you think, with the two of us standing side-by-side, that I had a chance to make myself stronger?”

“I was never—”

“Kane fell in love with you with one look, Saeran,” she said softly. There was envy in her eyes, but it was softened by reality. “I had no chance of getting him to marry me when I knew he had found you. It was the exact reason I dressed you as a boy. Then you let yourself become involved with him…”

“How did you know?” Saeran asked, feeling guilt stab her heart.

“Many things,” Blaine replied, smiling wistfully. “You were happier. Smiling more, blushing whenever you were around Kane. Then people started to notice you, Kane was speaking about you to his men, and…it just fell into place.”

“And you told Kane I was having an affair with myself…”

“Yes,” she said. She lowered her eyes to her lap. “I was desperate. He was not proposing to me, he was leaving the next day, and I thought…I thought that if he could cast you away, both Saeran and your counterpart, I would be able to finish the plan.”

“I was never meant to be happy, was I?” Saeran whispered. Her heart cracked. Blaine had meant to destroy her, and yet…yet it had all been for a good cause. For her father. To give him the life he needed. Surely something could have been done that didn’t involve Saeran being discarded like a chess piece. There could have been something else for Blaine to do. She would have found a way if she cared, right? Or had she really been driven by need and jealousy?

She stared at her sister, and found it all hard to believe. There was real guilt, real remorse. Real sadness. Her sister had been pushed into a corner and done the only thing she could.

“Saeran, I swear to you. If I had thought of a way for you and Kane to be happy, I would have left you two alone. I’ve only made your life hell—I know that, and I’m so sorry for it. But it had to be done. There was no time for me to think of a new plan. I had to act fast. You saw him—you saw my father, didn’t you?”

She recalled the foaming man, his tremors, the deranged quality he had about him, and nodded. Blaine had done everything out of love for her father, who needed her more than Saeran did.

“I don’t have much time. I just…had to tell you this before I continued. I didn’t want you to die thinking that I hated you, because I never did. Ever. I might have been jealous and greedy, but I never once hated you. I tried to convince myself that I did, but it never worked. You were too kind and compassionate. Even my black heart can’t hate something as pure as you.”

“Die?” she echoed, meeting Blaine’s eyes. There were tears in them. “You had me kidnapped so that I would die? Be killed?”

“I will do everything I can to protect you, but I—I’m with child. I am weak, and—I promise, I’ll do everything I can. But you…Saeran, you killed his son. He’s not going to let you get away. If I could have done something to save you, I would have. I swear. I promise on my unborn child that I would have.”

Saeran stood up, hands shaking and heart falling to her stomach.

“Where is he?” she asked, voice hoarse. “Where is Alasdair MacLeod? How long—how long do I have until he’s here?”

Blaine stood as well, taking her hands. Her voice was pleading when she spoke. “Saeran, you’ll only enrage him if you try leaving. I can try to talk him out of it. Just please, don’t try to run.”

“You said yourself, he’s not going to let me get away. That means I’m going to die. I can—I can find Kane. He’ll fix this,” she said, hysterical. “I can’t—Connor said he was coming back for me. I believe Connor. I have to see Kane, he can do something about this! He can kill Alasdair.”

“No,” Blaine whispered, shaking her head. “He’ll be here by the morrow. It’s too dark to find Kane. Saeran, I wish—I had no idea he and Gwen were planning on kidnapping you. I never would have let this happen—”

The door crashed open.

By the tensing of Blaine’s body, she knew something was wrong. Very, very wrong.