Jamie inhaled sharply. “Elise—”
She pushed harder. Light burst across the shore. The glamor shattered.
And the world changed.
Elise opened her eyes and saw that where the empty bay had been only moments ago, an entire hidden inlet had been revealed.
And it was filled with ships.
Dozens of them. War galleys, longships, sleek raiders painted with symbols she didn’t recognize. Men moved across the decks and up and down the beach, unaware their concealment had just been ripped open.
Jamie stood slowly, his face whitening with shock. “By all the gods…”
She leapt to her feet. Her legs felt shaky and her breath burned in her chest as she gazed with wide eyes at what she’d revealed.
“My God. It’shim,” Jamie whispered, his voice laced with outrage and fury. “It’s always been him.”
Elise didn’t understand what he meant. Looking closer, she saw that several of the ships were outfitted like the pirate ships she’d seen when they went after theSea Star. But most weren’t. Most were sleek galleys fitted with canon ports, pristine sails, and equipment in too good a condition to belong to a ragtag pirate fleet.
Something that had been bugging her since their encounter with the pirate ships suddenly came into focus.
“That’s not a pirate fleet at all,” she breathed.
“No,” Jamie agreed. “It isnae. It’s the king’s fleet.”
*
Jamie stared outat the scene before him, hardly daring to believe the evidence of his own eyes.
A whole fleet. Dozens of ships with Scottish banners furled tight against their masts. War galleys. Transports. Enough men to take every island from Islay to Barra.
The world tilted under his feet.
The king of Scotland. Phillip MacClelland. Elise was right. He’d been working for the king all along.
The betrayal punched the breath from his lungs. For a long moment he couldn’t speak—could barely think—only feel the fury climbing in him like a storm.
Elise turned to him, her face pale and drawn. “Jamie… what are we going to do?”
He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. “What we should have done from the start. We fight. We ride back to the keep. We take Phillip and the envoy prisoner. We rouse the fleet and strike now—while those bastards still think their trick holds.”
Elise nodded tightly. Her skin was pale, but she didn’t look afraid. She looked determined.
Behind them, the horses stamped suddenly, hooves shifting in the pine needles. A branch snapped.
Jamie whirled, hand going to the hilt of his sword as the undergrowth rustled—then parted to reveal armed men surrounding them, steel glinting in the morning light.
Jamie let out a slow, vicious breath, eyes darting, taking in his enemies.
They were surrounded by at least twenty of the envoy’s guards, all heavily armed, spread in a circle, blocking all escape that way.
They were snared like rabbits in a trap.
He heard slow hoofbeats and two men came riding through the trees. Jamie bristled at the sight of them. Phillip MacClelland and Sir Ewan Bruce. They pulled to a halt in front of him and Elise.
“Ye should have stayed at the keep,” Phillip said in a voice that sounded like he was scolding a naughty child. “I did try to warn ye.”
Jamie drew his sword in a whoosh of steel. Cold fury boiled in his veins. “I’ll kill ye for this,” he growled. “Ye treacherous snake.”
