Page 163 of Highland Spy

Ariana lowered Murdoch to the floor and pulled the key ring off his belt. Three iron keys jingled together.

Murdoch’s breathing was labored and thick and bright red blood was smeared over his teeth.

She wanted to close her eyes and block out the sight of the life she was taking, to blot out the odor of his blood staining the air, but already there was too little time.

The footsteps outside were louder now.

In front of the prison door.

Ariana tried to slide the key into the manacles, but her hands shook too badly. Fianna nuzzled close to her feet, as if attempting to calm her.

Focus.

Ariana gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus on the dark keyhole. Quickly, she unlocked both manacles from her wrists.

Murdoch’s glittering, narrowed gaze fixed on her while she worked in the semidark. He gave a long, low sigh, and finally his eyes slid closed.

“Forgive me,” Ariana whispered. She grasped the handle of the dagger and pulled. It came free with a sucking sound, but the blade was still stained with Murdoch’s blood.

The footsteps outside had stopped and the hairs on the back of Ariana’s neck rose. She scooped Fianna into her arms and deposited the little cat near the hole in the corner of the room.

The door rattled and Ariana’s heart lurched.

“Go,” she whispered, and nudged the little cat forward.

Regardless of who stood on the other side of the door, she would not put the kitten in jeopardy.

Much to Ariana’s great relief, Fianna darted through the hole and disappeared into the early gray of dawn.

The door swung open and Ariana spun to face her enemy, bloody dagger held at the ready.

Chapter 39

Ariana’s would-be attacker entered, silent as a shadow. He was clad in all black with a hood drawn over his face.

She couldn’t see who her opponent was, not that it would keep her from killing them if it meant her freedom.

“Ariana.”

Her heart skittered in her chest.

She knew the man’s voice, the honeyed burr with which he spoke her name.

Connor.

Relief crashed through her, washing away all the fear and stress and leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion. As if all the tension from the last day and night had finally ceased and her body no longer had the strength to even stand.

Her legs didn’t even have the chance to go soft before Connor’s arms were around her. Strong and warm and smelling so wonderfully of him. Tears prickled in her eyes.

He pushed the hood from his head and his mouth came down on hers, deliciously sweet and familiar. Her body flared to life with the heat of desire, with the joy of being reunited.

He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. “Why did ye tell the king ye were a witch? They meant to kill ye.”

She stared deep into the hazel eyes she’d thought never to see again. “Because I love you.”

“Then ye know the pain ye caused me by taking my place. It was too risky.” His arms were around her once more. He stroked her face and she found herself wanting to close her eyes and surrender to his embrace. “We hoped ye’d free yerself and wait for me. It’s why we sent the note. We dinna want ye escaping on yer own.”

He went quiet then and stared at her for a long moment.