A muffled sound escaped Edith as he stepped inside, and relief struck him with as much force as the rage that followed it.
Heavens.
His gaze shifted to the window, falling on MacFaris.
The man turned around, grinning as though he owned the room.
“Aaron Gallaway,” he said pleasantly. “I didnae expect ye to find us quite so quickly.”
Edith straightened at the mention of Aaron’s name, another desperate sound escaping behind her gag.
Aaron’s gaze hardened as he watched MacFaris. “Edward.” His voice was unnervingly calm.
“So,” MacFaris said, folding his arms as he walked slowly to Edith’s side. “Perhaps I underestimated ye after all.”
Aaron’s irritation flared.
“How so?” he asked, taking a measured step forward.
MacFaris placed his hand leisurely on the back of Edith’s chair, his fingers close enough to her shoulder that Aaron’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“I wasnae surprised to find an abandoned gate on yer land,” he said. “Nor was I surprised to find it unguarded.” His smile widened. “It speaks to yer arrogance.”
Aaron’s jaw ticked. Every instinct urged him to cross the room and tear the older man away from Edith. Instead, he remained where he was.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
MacFaris straightened as though he had been waiting to say the words that came next for a long time.
“Ye daenae deserve yer title.” His voice hardened. “Ye are unfit to lead these lands.”
Aaron almost laughed.
So this is about pride.
His hand tightened around his dirk as he took another step forward, and MacFaris reacted immediately, drawing a small knife from his belt and holding it lazily against Edith’s throat.
Aaron stopped. His jaw clenched so tightly that it almost hurt, and he sheathed his dirk. “Let her go.”
MacFaris laughed softly. “I intend to.” His fingers flexed around the knife. “After ye surrender everythin’ I came for.”
“There is nothin’ to surrender.”
“Och, but there is.” MacFaris’s weathered features contorted with greed. “Yer lands, Hallow. The northern fields. The trade routes that run through yer territory and lead to the coast.” His eyes gleamed. “Sign them over to me, and yer betrothed returns to ye unharmed.”
Aaron scoffed, veins throbbing in his temples.
“Ye expect me to surrender me clan’s inheritance for a lass.” He forced contempt into every word, making sure to sound as cold and detached as possible, even if it meant that Edith might believe it too.
MacFaris studied him carefully. Too carefully.
“Surely she is no ordinary lass,” he murmured. His expression twisted with open disdain as he looked down at Edith. “Ye rejected me daughter for this lowborn.” He tightened his grip on the knife. “I suppose she is worth everything to ye.”
Aaron’s heart clenched, both at his tone and at the truth in his words.
Aye, she is. Ye got that right.
Edith whimpered and shook her head as the blade touched her skin. Even now, with her life in danger, she was trying to stop him from giving anything up for her.
