Cam stared down at Elise. Her hair tumbled in tangled disarray over the furs, her face was flushed and lips swollen from his rough kisses. He burned the image into his mind because once he told her MacAllister had no intention of traveling to Dal Riada, Elise would have questions. And since he was no longer constrained by MacAllister’s order to keep the truth from her, she’d discover how he’d lied to her about their destination.

A woman as honorable as Elise would have no use for him after that. He despised the desperate desire that had driven him to her tent this night. But he’d been unable to stay away. If tonight was the last time she would look on him with favor he’d wanted to take full advantage of it.

Aye, he was a despicable bastard. But even knowing that hadn’t been enough to make him stay away.

With grim self-control, he withdrew from her slick heat. Hollowness filled his chest as he shoved himself upright and away from her. He raked a hand through his hair and couldn’t look at her. But even without looking at her, he knew she stared at him with a bemused frown. Knew also that if he did turn toward her he might not be able to stop himself from taking her one last time.

“I spoke to MacAllister.” From the corner of his eyes, he saw Elise sit up and push her hair off her face. She leaned toward him and he cursed the fact he hadn’t stood up and put more distance between them.

“Yes?” Her breathy response dusted his jaw as she curled her hand around his bicep. Her musky aroma of woman and sex invaded his senses and made it hard to think.

He dragged in a heady breath. “Our destination is Fortriu.” He braced himself for her withdrawal. But she remained where she was.

“Fortriu? Why does he journey to our supreme kingdom?”

Cam resisted the urge to scrub his hand over his face. He was guilty enough without making himself look more so. “MacAlpin has taken up residence in the palace of Forteviot.”

Again he waited for her to snatch her hand from him. Again she remained where she was. He couldn’t help but glance at her, and then of course he couldn’t look away.

Her eyes were narrowed and no hint of laughter lightened her expression. He braced himself for her condemnation.

“Of course.” There was a distinct chill in her voice that caused a shudder to inch along his arms. But she still held onto him. Perhaps she was unaware of her action. He certainly wasn’t going to draw attention to it. “That was his prize. Naturally he would claim it as swiftly as possible.”

Cam said nothing. Her accusation was true however the deaths of the Pictish nobles had come about. He had no defense to offer.

She sighed and to his confusion caressed his arm. “Cam. I don’t blame you for your king’s actions. We know his despicable betrayal was undertaken without the knowledge of any of Connor MacKenzie’s men.”

She knew that? How did she know that? Another shudder crawled over his arms but this time it had nothing to do with the fact that soon Elise would scorn him. It took him more than a few seconds to realize he hadn’t attempted to refute her implied accusation that MacAlpin had murdered in order to gain the prize of Fortriu.

But since a reply appeared necessary, he grunted and glowered at his boots.

“When did MacAllister know of this change in plans?” Elise sounded thoughtful and Cam tensed for her next inevitable question. “But no matter,” she said, and he gave her a sideways look. She appeared oblivious to the possibility that he had known of their true destination all along. “I can request an audience with MacAlpin as easily in Forteviot as I could in Dal Riada.”

He forgot about his guilt as disbelief hit him. “You wanted an audience with MacAlpin in Dal Riada?” But she had told him she wanted to see her cousin, Aila. The knowledge that she hadn’t told him the entire truth stung, despite the fact he knew there was no reason why she should confide all her plans to him.

It wasn’t as if he’d been entirely honest with her, either. That stung, too.

“Yes.” A faint blush heated her cheeks. “There is a matter I wish to discuss with him concerning the fate of certain hostages.”

He remembered a conversation they’d had when Elise had remarked on the unlikelihood of any ransom securing her father’s release. Did she mean to request her father’s freedom to MacAlpin’s face in the hope he might show mercy?

The thought of Elise begging for any favor from his king turned his stomach. It wasn’t riches MacAlpin wanted for his most valuable hostages. It was the loyalty of the Pictish clans.

“MacAlpin doesn’t talk politics with women.”

It wasn’t a tactful thing to say, but it was the truth. Elise stiffened in clear affront by his side. “I am quite certain your king will receive me, a princess of Circinn.”

Aye, he was damn sure MacAlpin would receive the princess. With open arms. Unease stirred deep in his gut, the same unease he suffered every time he thought of MacAllister’s undisclosed plans, but this time it was worse.

He turned to Elise. She still looked irritated by his remark, although he had the notion it wasn’t him she was annoyed with for saying it, but his king for deserving it.

He couldn’t stop himself from warning her. “Promise me you’ll be careful around him.”

A small smile caused her hauteur to flee. She threaded her fingers through his and gave a gentle squeeze. “I promise.”

***

It took another two weeks before they entered the kingdom of Fortriu. The palace of Forteviot was formidable. Protected by its elevated position and the numerous outlying hill forts, it commanded an unequalled view of the surrounding countryside. Its defenses appeared impenetrable.

No wonder MacAlpin had been so eager to claim his mother’s legacy. To take Fortriu by sheer force alone would have led to a bloodied Scots massacre. Whoever ruled the supreme kingdom held an unparalleled strategic advantage.

MacAllister had sent a messenger on ahead a week ago to let them know of their royal visitor, and as they approached the palace, a small contingent emerged to greet Elise. Cam gritted his teeth and gripped his horse’s reins until his knuckles ached as he watched her disappear into the palace.

He couldn’t shift the fear he had led her into an elaborate trap.

***

It was later that day when he was summoned to the king’s inner sanctum. MacAlpin was surrounded by his intimate circle of advisers, including MacAllister. Cam dropped to one knee and bowed before his king, but his thoughts were far from those of a loyal subject.

He could only hope MacAlpin couldn’t read his mind.

“Cameron MacNeil.” There was a note of amusement in MacAlpin’s voice, and he jerked his head indicating Cam should rise to his feet. “I always knew one day you would do your father proud.”

Cam kept his mouth shut and tried not to glower. As a child, he had feared his father, and as a youth, he’d despised him. Was MacAlpin suggesting he believed Cam was turning into his father?

He’d rather slit his own throat first.

MacAlpin didn’t appear to notice Cam’s simmering anger. He strolled toward him and slapped him on the shoulder in a show of camaraderie. Cam had never been in the king’s favor before. He didn’t like the fact that he was now.

“Your father and I were inseparable in our youth.” MacAlpin smiled in a benign manner that sent Cam’s senses onto full alert. He knew all about the friendship his father and the king had shared years ago. He didn’t know why MacAlpin felt the need to dig up that ancient history now. “It was I who encouraged him to pursue your beautiful mother who had stolen his heart.”

Thunder roared through Cam’s head and tangled rage lodged hard in his chest. Many times when drunk his father had recalled the sordid tale, as though he expected his son to applaud his actions.

All Cam had ever wanted to do was wrap his hands around his sire’s throat and squeeze the life from him. The same urge consumed him now as he looked at his king.

God help him.

“It is fitting, is it not, that you follow so closely in my old friend Neil’s footsteps?” MacAlpin stood in front of him. It was almost as though he dared Cam to raise his hand in defense of his long dead mother. “He brought a foreign princess back to Dal Riada and you have brought a princess to my new kingdom of Fortriu.”

“My liege.” The words all but choked him. “The princess travels of her own free will.” Which was more than his mother had. Abducted and raped and then forced into marriage. His stomach churned at what she had suffered at the hands of his father.

“Excellent.” MacAlpin folded his arms. “You’ve done well, MacNeil. And don’t think I am unappreciative of your actions in avenging the death of your father and sister. I will not forget it.”

Cam’s fetid memories froze as the king’s words penetrated. How did MacAlpin know he had anything to do with mac Uurguist’s death? The only other who knew was Ross, and Ross would never have confided in MacAllister.

“My liege, I swore I would not let vengeance interfere with my duty.” He could feel sweat trickle along his spine at the lie. But he couldn’t confess the truth. The repercussions could fall not only on himself but Ross for covering for him and Connor for being his superior officer.

“Of course not.” There was an unpleasant twist to the king’s lips. “We cannot afford any more unfortunate incidences involving prominent Picts. Nevertheless, justice has finally been served.” MacAlpin paused, a calculated move, Cam knew, to put him on edge. “How fitting that Ferelei mac Uurguist’s timely demise freed his delectable wife. One might think it a gift direct from God.”

Cam had several answers to that remark but none fit for his king’s ears. So he remained silent and fought to keep his face impassive.

The silence became oppressive. Was it his imagination or were all the king’s men eyeing him as though he was an exotic insect?

Finally MacAlpin gave a dry laugh. “Your reticence does you credit. Much as I admired your father, restraint was not one of his virtues.” He glanced at MacAllister and the two men shared a knowing smile. Cam battled the self-destructive urge to run the pair of them through with his sword. “You must have inherited the trait from your royal mother. Perhaps it’s time her blood finally served us.”

If fucking MacAlpin mentioned his mother one more time, God help him. Cam fisted his hands and forced his thoughts away from drawing his sword. If he did such a thing in the king’s inner sanctum, it would be the last action he ever performed.

But in all the years he’d known MacAlpin, the king had barely acknowledged his mother’s existence. Much less her royal blood. As far as Cam was concerned, his mother’s blood meant nothing. Her people were despicable and he claimed no kinship ties with them.

“This princess of Circinn,” MacAlpin said, “cannot be allowed to slip through our fingers.”

Cam’s futile sense of injustice about his mother’s tragic fate vanished. Every sense sharpened, like the moments before a battle commenced. He could feel the subtle shift in the atmosphere, a palpable tension radiating not only from the king but all his advisers.

The claws of the trap he had feared were real. They were here, in this chamber. And it was not only Elise the king had in his sights.

“The princess is not our captive.” His snarled retort was out before he could consider any possible consequences. Several of the advisers stiffened and glanced at their king, but both MacAlpin and MacAllister appeared uncaring of his breach in protocol.

“No. But she is a widowed princess of Pictland. And unwed princesses of Pictland of marriageable age are rare, especially ones who possess such personal wealth. But rarer still are Scots born princes.”

It seemed a great rock lodged in his chest, constricting his breathing. Insane images raced through his mind.

In the darkest, silent moments of the night, he had sometimes imagined a future with Elise. A real future where she was his wife and happy to be so.

But they had just been wild dreams because Elise was a princess and he was a commoner.

A commoner with foreign royal blood in his veins.

And MacAlpin was prepared to exploit that to his advantage to get what he wanted.

Another princess of Pictland married to a Scot.

For an agonizing moment, the vision taunted him. Elise could be his. But it was only for one fleeting moment. He would never trap her as his father had trapped his mother. If Elise didn’t want him as her husband, he wouldn’t force her. He wanted her love, not her loathing.

He looked his king in the eyes. “I am not a prince of Dal Riada.”

“But you are my loyal subject.” MacAlpin offered him a cold smile. “And your bloodline is undisputed, even if it has been neglected until now. Tell me, MacNeil. Does the thought of fucking this princess repel you so utterly? I’ve heard reports that she is a rare flower indeed. Wasted on a wizened bastard like mac Uurguist. And even if her appearance doesn’t thicken your cock, think of the dowry she brings with her.”

Cam had taken a step toward MacAlpin before he even realized. The king merely cocked his head, as though waiting for Cam’s reply.

He reined in his churning fury. Only the fact MacAlpin was his king allowed him to speak of Elise in such a derogatory manner. But by God, Cam would not forget the insult, nor would he forgive it.

“The princess does not repel me, my liege.” He shoved the words between his teeth and forcibly stopped himself from gripping the hilt of his sword.

“MacAllister tells me the princess appears to enjoy your company, despite your surly countenance.” The king appeared to find this mildly amusing, if the look he slung MacAllister was any indication. “Therefore it would be a simple matter to compromise her and form an alliance between us and the kingdom of Circinn.”

Compromise her. Form an alliance. The words thundered in his mind. All MacAlpin cared about was strengthening his bloodied alliance. He didn’t give a shit if he besmirched Elise’s reputation on the way.

“I will not compromise the princess.”

Nothing stirred for a heartbeat. Then, at a sign from MacAllister, the rest of the advisers left the chamber.

“You’ve already compromised the princess.” MacAllister’s voice was low but there was no disguising the menace behind his words. Cam gritted his teeth and cursed his lack of willpower. During the journey, he’d stolen several nighttime visits with Elise, so certain no one had witnessed his stealthy maneuvers. “I followed you to the roundhouse in the woods the day before we left the kingdom of Ce.”