Hannah sat near the warmth of the hearth in the Great Hall, her legs tucked up against her chest, her arms wrapped around them, and her chin resting on her knees. She had fled Helice’s presence after supper, the woman so angry that Hannah had expected to see fire spew from her mouth. It had started when Helice had informed Hannah she was not to do any chores until told otherwise. She could not blame the woman. There was much to be done in the keep, far more than two people alone could do.

“You should leave.”

Hannah’s head shot up to see Helice standing a short distance away.

“There is nothing here for you. Go now while you can. I will give you food to last for a few days. Find someplace safe.”

Hannah did not expect to hear the last three words from her. She was telling her it was not safe here. She almost laughed, not with humor, but fear. No matter where she turned, there was no place for her to go. No safe haven. No one to help her out of kindness, except for the healer who had freed her from that hell. She had been the only one who had showed her true kindness, wanting nothing in return for it.

“I have no place to go.”

“Any place is better than here. There is no heart to this place, no soul. It will swallow you whole and you will never escape.”

“If that is so, why do you stay?” Hannah asked curious of how the woman came to be with Slain.

Helice’s chin went up. “I owe a debt and I will see it repaid.”

“I guess then we are both stuck here,” Hannah said.

“You can find another clan who will surely take you in,” Helice said almost as if she commanded it.

“Trust me, Helice, when I tell you that this is the only place I can find refuge and I will do what I must to remain here… for now.”

“If you do not leave by morning’s light, you will never leave here.”

A direct warning that sent a small shiver through Hannah.

“I will leave a cloth wrapped with food for you in the kitchen if you should change your mind, and I hope you do.”

Hannah watched Helice turn and walk away and she considered paying heed to the woman’s dire warning and advice, but it always returned to the same thing. Where would she go? Her only other choice would be for her to leave the Highlands and go where? This was her home and the only place she knew. The only place she wanted to be. Besides, there was no safety for a woman traveling alone.

When she had been freed from that hellhole of a dungeon, she had kept company with another woman who had been freed along with her. They had traveled at night and had avoided the well-traveled roads. They had parted when their destinations went in different directions and Hannah had to admit she had missed traveling with her. They at least had each other even if the woman had barely spoken a word, but then she had suffered far worse than Hannah had.

Slain was her only hope at the moment, and Helice might think that she would never leave here, but Hannah knew better. There would come a day when one, or perhaps both, of the monsters she had escaped would come claim her.

She had no choice but to agree to pay her due for being allowed to remain here, though she would give herself a few days to think on it. Sometimes solutions could be found for the most improbable problem if one gave thought. Or so she told herself, when she knew better. Sometimes there was no solution… only surrender.

She was no fool. She had known by the way Slain’s dark eyes had caressed her body slowly what demands he would make of her and she had to be sure that she was willing to surrender to him. She would be a servant and she would serve the chief of the clan. Was she truly willing to pay such a price to survive?

She would think on it, though she worried her fate was already sealed.

* * *

Hannah could not sit idle the next day. Without her hands busy, her thoughts were chaotic. After making sure Helice did not see her, Hannah grabbed a bucket of water and other items she needed and went to the Great Hall to continue cleaning it. She intended to take her time since her arm remained weak and still pained her. But the pain in her arm was a welcoming relief compared to the endless, disturbing thoughts that plagued her.

She smiled and raised her arm to wipe the back of her hand across her brow, after finishing cleaning one table and the benches along each side. She kept her left arm tucked against her since it was simply too weak to be of any help.

“What did I tell you?”

Hannah jumped at Slain’s unexpected and fierce reprimand and turned to see him walk with quick strides toward her. Instinct warned her to back away from him, but courage rose up and refused to allow her to move.

He came to a stop directly in front of her and she could tell he had recently been in the woods, the scent of pine heavy on him. He remained there, his arms folded over his chest. His sleeves were rolled up, the cuffs clinging tightly to the defined muscles in his arms.

There was a sternness to his expression, his brow narrowed and his mouth tauter than pinched, but his eyes told a different tale. A spark of concern flashed in their dark depths, similar to yesterday when he had found her crying, and she wondered if there was a more human side to the savage than he allowed anyone to see.

She realized he waited for an answer. “I cannot sit idle,” she explained.

His hand reached out to cup her elbow. His touch was firm as if not giving her a choice and his hand warm against her bare skin, having rolled up her sleeves to work, as he directed her to sit on one of the benches that had been cleaned.

“Tell me of this torture that injured your arm,” he said and sat beside her.

She had spoken of it to no one, but then who was there to tell, and she would have preferred not to speak of it. However, his stern tone told her it was not a request. “My upper arm was shackled and I was left to hang from it for long periods of time, my feet unable to touch the ground.”

His brow scrunched as he measured her words. “That is how you got that bruise that looks like a band around your arm?”

Hannah nodded, fearful he would demand to know who tortured her. A question she would not answer, so she spoke quickly. “A healer told me it would take time for my arm to mend, though it may never heal completely. That it may always remain weaker than my other arm.”

“That is a harsh punishment for a disobedient daughter,” —he paused a moment— “Or is it a husband you run from?”

She was quick to say, “I have no husband and no family who wants me.”

“Then who are these monsters who chase you?”

He had trapped her with that question. He was searching to find out some truth about her. Hannah’s mum had once told her that the truth was not something always to be told, especially if the truth could prove harmful to one’s self. In this situation, the truth could prove deadly for her.

“Those who would do a woman on her own harm.”

“How long have you been on your own?” he asked.

“Long enough to know there are too many monsters for me to fight alone.”

“Why come here? Why the Clan MacKewan?”

“You are feared and respected, and you are a chief who has already fought monsters,” she said.

“It takes a monster to fight other monsters,” he cautioned.

Hannah shook her head, ready to correct him, “It takes courage—”

“To confront a monster, especially in his lair. With such courage, why would you need me?”

“Courage only goes so far when you are on your own.”

“So what you truly seek from me is… friendship?”

An unexpected smile rose on Hannah’s face at the thought that that could actually be possible. “It would be nice to call you friend.”

Slain leaned his face close to hers. “It is not friend you will be calling me, Hannah.”

He brushed his lips faintly across hers with a tenderness that sent a ripple of pure pleasure cascading down along her body to fade at her feet.

He stood. “Have Neata look at your arm and see what she says. She is a good healer,” Slain ordered, leaving no room for her to disagree. “In the meantime, you will do as told. No chores for you until I say otherwise.”

Hannah went to protest, but a sharp wince replaced her words and she looked down at her hand in her lap. It had cramped, her misshapen fingers resembling more a talon’s claw. She went to grab it with her good hand when Slain quickly seated himself beside her once again and took hold of her cramped hand.

She winced again when his thumb dug deeply into her palm, pressing against the taut muscle that sent a stinging pain to shoot all the way up her arm.

“I know it hurts, but it is the only way to ease away the pain,” he said, and continued fighting the muscle that refused to relax.

The pain grew and she shut her eyes against it, trying desperately to fight it as she had done endless times. It seemed like forever before the pain began to subside and once it did she realized that she had rested her brow against Slain’s.

When had she done that? And why had he allowed her to? She warned herself to ease away, but instead, she opened her eyes.

It was almost as if his dark eyes touched her green ones and this time she saw it clearly… concern. It disturbed him that she suffered pain. If he cared, how could he be a savage? Somewhere inside him had to be a kind heart. Or at least that was what she wanted to believe.

Slain watched confusion swirl in her lovely green eyes. She did not know what to think of him. He confused her and that was not good. He could not let her think that he cared or had a heart. She would only be disappointed.

His hand suddenly grabbed at the back of her neck, holding it stiff as he brought his mouth close to hers, so close his words brushed her lips. “Do not be foolish enough to think I care. You will settle a need I have and that is all.” He released her and stood to stand in front of her. “If you cannot sit idle, find something to do that will not require use of your arm.”

Hannah watched him walk away, not another word spoken between them.

* * *

“I got a severe tongue lashing because of you,” Helice accused as she all but dropped the bowl in front of Hannah where she sat at the table in the Great Hall that evening. “I do not understand you Highland women. You are stubborn to a fault.”

“I only thought to help you,” Hannah said in a way of an apology.

“If you want to help… leave here and never return.” Helice turned and walked out of the room mumbling in her native language.

Hannah ate little, her thoughts once again cumbersome. Why had she ever thought coming here would be a solution for her when there was no solution to her problem?

Hope.

She had held on to the hope that things would turn out well despite all she had been through. That hope, unfortunately, was beginning to fade.

Her churning stomach prevented her from taking another bite and she retreated to her pallet by the hearth. She was tired of thinking, tired of worrying, tired of being strong. She wanted nothing more than the peacefulness of sleep until at least dawn.

Regrettably, that was even denied her. She woke from her sleep and seeing that the logs in the fireplace had not dwindled that much, she realized she had not slept long. And with how awake she felt, sleep would not soon return to her.

She lay on her pallet, staring up into the dark, not looking forward to the long, sleepless night ahead when a sound caught her attention. She lay still, listening.

Was that the crinkling of parchment she heard? Footfalls as well? And the scent of pine and earth was strong.

Slain.

With the scent so heavy, he had to have been in the woods again. He seemed to spend much time in the woods, and she wondered why. The clansmen did the hunting, the meat shared amongst the clan.

The footfalls sounded indecisive, stopping then starting again.

It was not until the whispers started that Hannah realized that it was two footfalls she heard and though the voices were low, she could distinguish them as coming from two men.

She turned her ear to the whispers, straining to hear even just a snatch of conversation.

Whispering mumbles met her ear, then she caught something.

“—anyone to know you are here.”

That sounded like Slain. From the words she had caught, he did not want anyone to know the person he was speaking with was here. Did that include Helice? Did he not trust her and if so why?

More footfalls approached.

“Go—follow soon—east wing.”

Slain spoke rapidly, the crinkling of parchment making it difficult to hear his words clearly, then footfalls rushed off as another approached.

“Do you need anything?”

Helice’s whisper was not as quiet as the men had been.

“I will retire shortly, after I am done in the solar,” Slain said, keeping his voice low.

“Are you certain you do not want her moved to a room?” Helice asked.

“No, she stays here until I have my answer,” Slain said.

So Helice knew what he intended. Was that why she had told her to leave? Could Helice actually have been concerned for her?

Hannah listened as two pair of footfalls faded away. She lay there wondering what was going on. How had the unknown man gotten into the keep without Helice knowing it. Did Slain not want Helice to know about the visitor?

MacKewan keep held far too many secrets and if she was going to remain here, she had to know what was going on. She could not live with secrets. Secrets could have disastrous results. She knew that from experience.

She quietly got up off the pallet and silently made her way up the stairs to the east wing door and her eyes turned wide.

It sat ajar.

The man who had spoken with Slain must have left it open, since Slain had said he intended to follow. Hannah did not give herself time to decide if it would be wise to follow after the man, she quietly slipped past the door into the east wing.