Page 75 of Bound By Deception

Eventually, he pulled away from her, rolling across the furs and out of the sleeping nook.

Steeling herself, Bree pushed herself up into the sitting position, her heart thumping against her breastbone as she watched him silently dress.

This was it.

She could resist him, yet it was pointless. She would only be delaying the inevitable. And after what they’d just done, all the fight had gone out of her. A strange fatalism settled over her, a sensation that she’d never experienced before.

Swallowing, to loosen the tightness in her throat, she waited for the ax to fall.

Eventually, the chief-enforcer met her eye. His expression was veiled now, his gaze shuttered; it was impossible to guess what he was thinking or feeling. “I won’t be back tonight,” he said gruffly. “So … this is goodbye.”

Bree stiffened, confusion wreathing up. “Excuse me?” Her voice didn’t sound like her own; it was softer, huskier.

A nerve flickered in his cheek as he stared back at her. “It’ll take me until dawn to ensure everything is ready for departure,” he replied. “I’ll be away half the turn of the moon, at least … but when I return,youwon’t be here.”

Their gazes fused, and as the moment drew out, realization dawned.

Bree’s heart kicked violently against her ribs. Shades, he was letting her go.

“You want me toleave?” she asked, making sure she hadn’t misunderstood.

He nodded.

“You won’t come after me?”

“No.”

Bree’s breathing grew shallow. She wanted to ask him why, but something held her back. There was a glint in his eye now, a warning not to push any further. The chief-enforcer knew she was a liar and that she couldn’t be trusted—but he was prepared to look the other way.

This once.

He was offering her freedom, and she’d be a fool not to take it.

Swallowing the lump that now rose in her throat, Bree silently nodded.

32: A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS

HE WAS A fucking idiot.

If Cailean had been thinking straight, he’d haul that lying bitch down to the dungeons and interrogate her himself. He’d show her that he wasn’t averse to torture—that, when necessary, he could be just as cruel as the High King.

But he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d plowed the woman and then, to compound his mistake, opened the door to her cage.

He should go back upstairs and have his reckoning with her, but he wouldn’t.

He’d let her go.

This is Talorc’s fault, the bastard. Aye, the High King had cornered him, threatened him. Rage had pulsed within Cailean as he’d suffered being humiliated before his peers, and he’d stormed upstairs when the meeting ended, looking for someone to unleash his fury upon. Maybe he wouldn’t have acted so rashly if he’d been thinking straight.

Cailean descended the steps before the fog-shrouded yard outside the broch. Halting at the bottom, he surveyed the large company of enforcers and warriors that filled the wide space, readying their horses to ride out.

Dawn was close to breaking, although the enshrouding mist would block out the sunrise. This summer had been cool and damp so far, the light dim. The sun had shown its face rarely over the last moon, and it looked like this journey would be another bleak one.

Cailean’s mouth pursed. Their departure was at short notice indeed. Nonetheless, it was the High King’s will. They had a decent ride before them and needed to reach their destination before Mid-Summer Fire. They couldn’t delay, and so Cailean had spent the night marshaling the men and organizing supplies.

Glancing up at the sky, he let the misty rain kiss his skin. A sleepless night had left him exhausted. Nevertheless, he welcomed the fatigue; it blunted the edges of unwelcome emotions and uncomfortable thoughts.

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