“This is an interesting turn of events.” Damen scowled at Gwen. “I thought you were on a ship headed for Kirkwall with the man I arranged for you to marry. I never thought I’d find you on your back with your legs spread like a whore for a MacKay.” He seized Gwen’s wrist and yanked her toward him, while two of his men restrained Kyle.

With her chin inclined, and despite pangs of terror squeezing her chest, Gwen returned Damen’s stare with one of her own. “As you can see, things have changed. I am not on a ship, I despise Laird Gower, and might I point out, I’m not a whore.”

Damen tightened his bruising grip until Gwen winced from the pain. “You will mind your tongue with me, woman, or I will cut it out.”

He leaned so close to her face that their noses brushed and she could smell the sour odor of stale whisky on his breath. “I’m not afraid of you, Damen,” she lied, and refused to look away. “You may be pretending to be laird, but you are not.”

“That is where you are wrong. My father is dead and that makes me lord of MacQuin Castle.”

Gwen raised a hand to her throat. She wasn’t overly upset about the death of Ronald MacQuin, but her concern quickly turned to Lilith. “What of your mother?”

“She sits in the dungeon awaiting her trial,” Damen said, an evil grin tugging at his lips.

“Trial for what?”

“Murder.”

Gwen blinked several times in disbelief, then coughed to clear her throat. She couldn’t imagine that Lilith would or could harm anyone. Her mother had to be one of the sweetest, most caring, unselfish people she’d ever met, and while she’d been sorely mistreated and had good cause, she would never kill her husband. “I don’t believe it. On what grounds do you accuse her?” The lawyer in her immediately kicked in.

“Belladonna was found in my father’s room and the scent of it on his breath when the maid found him dead,” Damen said. “When searched, we found a flask in my mother’s chamber containing an elixir made from the poisonous plant.”

“That doesn’t prove a thing. It could have been planted there to make her look guilty,” Gwen challenged. “Belladonna is used for all sorts of ailments.” She glared at Damen. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find out it was you who murdered Laird MacQuin to get his title.” The words left her lips before she could stop them and she regretted it the minute they did. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t curb her tendency to speak her mind.

“Bitch!” Damen let loose a backhand that sent her to the ground. 

He was about to strike Gwen again when Kyle narrowed his gaze, pinning Damen with his stare. “Let her go. If you want to pick a fight, I’d be happy to oblige. Touch her again and I’ll send you back to hell where you belong.”

She was shocked when Damen released her arm, then stormed toward Kyle with his fist balled. Gwen wanted to run after him and do what she could to intervene, but despite what she’d said, she knew she was no match for Damen’s power or strength.

“I’d haud your wheesht if I were you, and will take care of you both soon enough.” Damen raised his fist, as if he were about to emphasize his threat by striking Kyle, but suddenly stopped, mumbled a curse, then issued orders to his men instead.

“Drag them out into the clearing and I’ll deal with them there.” Damen stomped toward the entrance of the cave.

Relieved when he didn’t hit Kyle, Gwen wondered why. If she wasn’t mistaken, he appeared to focus on the cross Kyle wore, then backed down—his reaction giving credence to what Beatha had said about fairies and the rowan bush. She gave her head a shake. Her conversation with Beatha about the rowan and iron talismans had been only a dream and this was very real. But that didn’t stop her from wishing she had an iron nail right now.

“Let’s go, Lady Gweneth,” a guard said as he led her to the entrance of the cave. Kyle followed, accompanied by two burly warriors, each holding on to one of his arms.

Gwen did as instructed and went along quietly. But when they stepped into the clearing and the guard clasped her elbow, she dug in her heels and refused to budge.  

“You heard the laird, get moving,” he snarled, then shoved Gwen so hard, he almost knocked her off her feet. She stumbled, but managed to remain standing.

Kyle’s reaction was to wrench free of his captors’ hold and lunge at the man, tackling him to the ground. “That is no way to treat a lady. Especially mine,” he roared and delivered an uppercut punch to the man’s jaw, and then another, before two warriors seized him and hauled him to his feet.

“What is going on?” Damen bellowed. “Are you so weak and incompetent that two of you canna control one prisoner? If so, I best find warriors worthy of serving me.”

“Nay, m’lord. I can promise it willna happen again,” one of the warriors said.

“It had better na. You have yet to see the ferocity of my wrath,” Damen warned.

“What do you plan to do with them, m’lord?” another of his warriors asked.

“Punish them, but I have not quite decided how,” Damen hissed. He drew a dirk from a sheath at his side and examined it, running his fingers along the blade. “Whatever I decide willna be pleasant and will be the end of them both.”

He turned his attention to Kyle. “Bring MacKay here. I think I will start with him and she can watch as I carve him up, lopping off piece by piece. Their deaths will be a warning to anyone who dares defy me in future.”

“Are you na afraid to bring the wrath of the MacKays upon our heads?” one of his men asked.

Damen answered by drawing his sword and plunging it into the man’s gut. He loomed over his victim, watching him writhe on the ground in agony, then delivered a swift kick to his chest. A menacing grin crossed his lips as he held his sword above his head and addressed his men. “Is there anyone else who has a question?”

Gwen’s stomach twisted when she witnessed Damen’s brutal reaction to his warrior’s words, and she shuddered to think what he had in store for them.

When no one else dared to speak, Damen sheathed his sword and strode toward Kyle. “Make him kneel before me and remove that cross,” he ordered one of them.

“No! You can’t be so cruel as to strip a man of his only form of religious comfort when you are about to torture and kill him,” Gwen blurted. She hoped as long as Kyle wore the cross, Damen would not be able to harm him. But after what the fiend had done to his warrior, she doubted the others would challenge him.

One of the warriors restraining Kyle immediately grasped the leather thong and yanked until it broke free, then tossed the cross in the dirt a few feet away. “You heard Laird Damen, on your knees.”

“I refuse to kneel before the devil,” Kyle replied, but a sharp blow to his stomach thwarted his effort to resist and he dropped to the ground.

“I’ll take great pleasure in teaching you who is in charge, MacKay.” Damen cast Gwen an evil grin, then grasped a handful of Kyle’s hair and snapped his head back, forcing him to look Damen in the eye. “When finished, I will send you back to your clan in pieces.”

“Go to hell,” Kyle snapped.

Damen tilted Kyle’s head from one side to the other, then glanced at Gwen again. “Which ear should I lop off first, right or left?”

“You can’t do this, Damen. Your quarrel is with me not Kyle. Let him go and you can do with me what you wish,” Gwen begged. “Is killing him worth the risk of bringing the wrath of the MacKays upon the clan?”

“Silence. You will get your turn soon enough. But when my father died, I became laird of clan MacQuin and I fear no other clan.” His menacing laugh echoed in the clearing as he waved his dagger in Kyle’s face. “Left I think.”

Uncertain where the strength came from, Gwen twisted her arm in an attempt to break free from her guard. When he turned his body toward hers, she kneed him in the groin and he crumpled to the ground. Wasting no time, she bolted toward Damen, who in turn released Kyle and confronted her.

Eyeing the cross on the ground, she dove for it, catching Damen off guard. Once she had retrieved it, she stood and placed herself between Kyle and Damen. “Stay back. You are not the laird’s son. You are a changeling left in my place. An evil fae creature whose only goal is to wreak havoc and misfortune on the clan. I bet you murdered the laird and blamed your mother.”

A collective gasp resonated amongst the warriors, and to her surprise, no one rushed forth to challenge her. She wondered if they questioned if he was human or not and feared him too much to say so.

“Liar. You have nothing to base these accusations on. No one will believe the rantings of a madwoman,” Damen hissed. “Not that you will be around to say anything.” He addressed his men. “If any of you wish to join MacKay, speak up or swear yourselves to secrecy about this.”

When no one spoke, Gwen’s heart dropped. She’d hoped someone would have the guts to stand up to him. She raised the cross in the air as Damen stepped forward, but she knew she couldn’t hold him off for long. She shot a glance round the clearing, not sure what she was looking for, but she was desperate.

“Remember the dream.” Beatha stepped out from the forest.

“What are you doing here, witch?” Damen asked.

“Setting a wrong to right, I hope.” Beatha moved closer to Gwen and looked her in the eye. “Remember the dream.”

“I can’t, but was thinking about making some dinner for these men,” she said. “But I have no pot in which to cook. Have you an egg shell I can use?”

Damen brought a hand to his brow, as if suddenly in pain. “What nonsense do you spout, woman?”

“Do you have an egg shell I can use?” Gwen repeated.

“Acorn before oak I knew, and an egg before a hen, but never before have I seen an eggshell brew dinner for harvest men.” The rhyme spewed from Damen’s lips as if he had no control.

“You see. Only a changeling would recite those words.” Gwen shouted. “He is an evil being who took my place at birth. I demand you return from whence you came and give me back my life.”

Damen’s face twisted and contorted, changing into that of a horrifying creature, his eyes blazing red. Despite the fact that Gwen held the cross in front of her, he lunged forward.

With nowhere to retreat, Gwen had no choice but to stand her ground. With the cross held before her, she closed her eyes and prayed. Jarred by the bone-crushing impact when Damen’s body rammed hers, she somehow managed to stand her ground. She braced for the final death blow, but when nothing happened, her eyes flew open in time to see Damen stagger backward, the wooden cross protruding from his chest. He crumpled to the ground in a pool of blood, shouted a curse in Gaelic, then disappeared.

In the commotion, the guards released Kyle and he sprang to his feet. “What possessed you to take such a risk?” he chided, then wrapped his arms around her and tugged her into his embrace. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“Thank Beatha.” She looked at the old woman and smiled. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Beatha smiled. “You already have. But as the new and rightful head of Clan MacQuin, you’d best give orders to your men.”

“But—” Gwen started, then stopped when Beatha disappeared.

One of the warriors stepped forward and bowed. “I’m na sure who you and Lord Damen were talking to just now, Lady Gweneth, but he is gone and as rightful heir to your father’s title, what would you like us to do?”

“You saw her, didn’t you,” she whispered to Kyle. When he nodded, she faced the warriors.

“It matters not. Assemble the men and prepare to return to MacQuin Castle. I must get Lady Lilith out of prison.”

“Aye, Lady Gweneth.” The warrior bowed and raced off to do her bidding.

Gwen scratched her head. “I can’t believe they didn’t see or hear Beatha.”

He playfully kissed the tip of her nose. “You were right when you said it didn’t matter. Damen is gone and you, m’lady, have a clan to run. Well at least until we can get Beatha to send us home.”

“Yes, home,” she mumbled on a breathy sigh. There was so much to think about, Gwen found it hard to take it all in. She was the leader of a medieval Scottish clan, and with that came great responsibility. Who would take over when she went home to her own century was of primary concern. But right now, returning to the castle and getting Lilith out of that horrible dungeon had to take priority.