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“Thank ye,” Sorcha replied, laughing. “And thank ye for staying with me. Ye made me feel safe, as if—” the truth of her feelings in the moment hit her “—as if ye took the place of my sister who is nae here.”
Lena’s lips parted, and she slowly smiled. “Thank ye, Sorcha,” she replied, her voice trembling with emotion.
They whiled the rest of the afternoon away, swimming, eating, and then swimming some more. When the sky became orange with the first hint of dusk, they decided it was time to return to the castle.
“Care to race?” Sorcha challenged.
Lena answered with a grin and a dive under the water. She shot past Sorcha in the clear water. Chuckling, Sorcha gulped in a deep breath and dove under to catch up, not coming up for air until she saw the ground appear beneath her in the water, so that she knew she was very near shore.
She broke the surface with a whoop, stood, and rubbed the water out of her eyes. “Did I win?” she asked breathlessly as she blinked her eyes open.
Her breath solidified in her throat when she saw Lena, lying unmoving on the shore, her face turned toward Sorcha but her body twisted the other way, as if she had tried to fend off someone but had been caught unawares. Blood streamed down her forehead, and her eyes were closed.
Sorcha’s gaze flew to the face of the man looming over her. She squinted up at him, struggling to really see him as the setting sun was in her eyes. He held a dagger in his hand and had a savage smile on his face, but his features were blurry.
“Hello, Sorcha,” he said in an eerily pleasant tone, as if greeting an old friend.
Something in his voice made her gasp. She knew that voice. Happiness and dread flooded her at once, and as the man bent down to his haunches and his face came into view, her stomach knotted in recognition as memories flooded her mind. “Finn,” she choked out, looking into the face that so mirrored her own. Silver-gray eyes the exact color as her own stared back at her with cold dispassion.
Finn ran his blade across his now-bearded face, as if he needed to scratch an itch. “Ye’ve caused me much trouble, Sorcha, and wasted an immense amount of my time, but here we finally are.”
“Ye came to retrieve me?” she asked, her voice betraying her fear, despite her effort to sound nonplussed.
Finn frowned. “Nay. I’ve come to kill ye,” he stated without a hint of emotion.
She responded at the same moment he lunged for her. Lurching backward, she ducked under the water, frantically clawing at it in hopes of escape. His strong hand locked around her ankle as she kicked, and it yanked hard, pulling her back toward the shore she had been trying to get away from. She was dragged, sputtering and gulping in mouthfuls of water, onto the shore, past Lena’s still form, and across the rocky land. She dug her nails into the ground, trying to gain purchase, but to no avail.
“Finn!” she screamed, as he hauled her toward the edge of the stone path she and Lena had come down earlier.
He stopped directly beside the tree where she had left her bow and arrows. When he flipped her onto her back, he stared down at her with an expression of hatred that made her shiver. “For years,” he spat at her, “I had to endure Father berating me, telling me I was weak and unworthy, shaming me in front of others, but I withstood it because I kenned that one day Blair Castle would be mine and I could finally be free of Father. But ye ruined that as ye ruin everything!”
Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs as she stared at her brother. All the while, she was trying to discreetly judge if she could reach her bow and have any hope of nocking an arrow and aiming before Finn stopped her. She was unsure. She had to get closer, had to keep him talking.
“How do I ruin everything?” she asked, even as memories filtered in that made her think she partly knew.
“I was Uncle Brom’s favorite,” he growled, “then ye stole his love.”
“Ye were cruel to him,” she countered, trying to edge a bit toward her bow.
“Cruel?” Finn scoffed. “He almost drowned ye. He deserved the beating I gave him.”
“Nay.” She shook her head, the memory of the day she had fallen into the water coming back to her even more clearly now. Brom had saved her, but Finn had appeared, taken her from Brom, and started to shake her for being careless. Finn undoubtedly had known, just as her sister, Constance, had, that Father would blame them for Sorcha’s carelessness. Age-old guilt besieged her, yet it was edged with the awareness that her brother’s heart had been twisted into an ugly thing. Still, he was her brother.
“Finn,” she said, softening her tone, “ye made Brom fear ye. That is nae my fault.”
“I had to beat him because of ye,” Finn accused. “I had to lie to Father to protect myself because of ye,” he shouted. “So aye—” he narrowed his eyes “—it is yer fault.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said simply, knowing her impetuousness as a child, combined with her father’s quick temper and harsh treatment of Finn, had led to this moment.
Her twin shook his head almost violently. “Sorrywill nae suffice. Father will give my castle to that bastard Hugo if he learns ye still live.”
Sorcha gaped at her brother for a long moment, as she soaked in what he had just said and sifted through her memories. She recalled in quick flashes the night she had heard her father plotting Katherine’s death, and she knew Finn’s words to be true. She and the castle were the prizes offered to Hugo for his deed.
She swallowed hard, horrified. She trulywasrelated to the enemy. But there was no time to consider what it meant now. “Why does Father think me dead?”
“Because I led him and Hugo to believe I saw ye killed. Did ye think I was coming to rescue ye?” he jeered.
She didn’t bother to tell him she’d had no memory of who she was until a moment ago. “Finn,” she said in a broken whisper. “I dunnae wish to marry Hugo or have yer castle. If ye will just let me speak with Father, I may be able to compel him to allow me to marry another.” She thought immediately of Cameron. What if she used what she knew her father had done to try to coax him into letting her marry as she wished? It was a risk, but she saw no other option. “I’ll go with ye this day to speak to him!”
