Page 101 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander
“Ye willnae convince me, Abigail,” Peyton scoffed.
Abigail’s heart thundered in her chest, but she lifted her chin.
“Ye’ll never get away with this.”
Peyton barked out a cold laugh. “I convinced the guard he’s in love with me. The fool’s gone now to fetch supplies and twohorses. He’ll be waitin’ just outside the wall, thinkin’ he’s runnin’ off with a saint.”
Abigail narrowed her eyes at her. “Then what are ye doin’ here?”
Peyton’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Finishing what I set out to do,” she declared, raising her sword an inch. “I’ll take yer life, then Kian’s. But nae just yet. First, ye’ll take me to him, so I can run ye through in front of him.”
“Ye’re mad,” Abigail whispered, stepping slightly to the side.
“Aye,” Peyton said, her smile widening. “Mad with grief.”
Abigail felt sweat trickling down her spine. Her eyes flicked to the pitcher on the table, then back to Peyton. Her fingers moved with purpose, pushing the heavy pitcher. It crashed to the stone floor, water and ceramic flying in every direction.
Peyton jerked back in surprise, her blade rising higher. “What the devil?”
Abigail widened her eyes. “Forgive me. I get clumsy when I’m nervous.”
Peyton eyed her suspiciously. “Watch yerself. I’ve waited too long to be fooled by a broken pitcher.”
“And what happens after? After ye kill me and Kian? Think the clan will welcome ye as queen?”
“I dinnae care for the clan,” Peyton spat, her sword glinting as she stepped closer.
Abigail felt the distance shrinking. Her mind worked furiously. If she could just get to the door…
“Ye’re nae thinkin’ straight,” she said. “Revenge will rot ye from the inside. If ye loved yer faither, let him rest in peace.”
Peyton’s hand trembled for a moment, but then she steadied herself.
“Dinnae speak to me of peace. Nae when me heart’s been hollowed out by what yer man did. Now, move. We’re goin’ to see him.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Kian burst through the door, his breath like fire and his grip firm on the hilt of his dirk. Abigail’s wide, terrified eyes locked onto his for a split second, long enough for him to taste her fear.
Peyton grabbed her and pressed her sword against her throat.
“Get away from her, Peyton, or I’ll gut ye where ye stand!” Kian’s voice boomed like thunder.
Peyton let out a wild laugh, her eyes glittering with malice. “One step closer and she bleeds,” she hissed. “Ye took everything from me, Kian. Me faither’s life, me name, me future.”
Kian stood frozen, his fury barely contained, his hand trembling with the need to strike. He could see Abigail’s chest rise and fall quickly, her chin dipped, her hands clenched at her sides. He felt the beast inside him stir, pure, blinding rage rising like a storm in his chest.
“Let. Her. Go,” he growled. “I willnae repeat meself, Peyton.”
“Why should I?” Peyton sneered. “Do ye ken what ye did to me? I was meant to marry into another clan. I was meant to wear silk and feast. Instead, I sat in the shadows of scandal while you stood like a hero.”
Kian took a careful step forward, his gaze never leaving the blade at Abigail’s throat. “I took yer faither’s life because he would’ve seen me dead. He swung first. He blinded me.” His voice broke slightly. “I spared yer life that day. I’ll nae make the same mistake again.”
Abigail whimpered as Peyton pulled her closer, her voice shaking now with hatred. “Aye, he blinded ye, and yet ye still won. Ye walked away with a title and glory, and I was left with ashes. D’ye ken what it’s like to be forgotten? To have naught but whispers and pity behind yer back?”
Kian tightened his grip on his dirk. “I dinnae care what glory I walked away with. I’d give it all up if it meant keeping her safe. I’d trade the castle, the title, and both me eyes if it meant she wouldnae tremble like that.” He fixed Peyton with a cold glare. “But I swear on me name—if ye harm her, I will end ye.Slowly.”
Peyton’s voice was shrill with desperation now. “Then watch me kill her first. Let her bleed in front of ye. Let that be the price of yer pride, Kian Wright!”
