Page 33 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander (The Highland’s Lawson Sisters #3)
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
K ian 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!”
“Ye dinnae want to do this, Peyton. Yer quarrel’s with me, nae her.” Kian stepped to the side, eyes locked onto hers, calculating the distance.
His dirk glinted faintly in his hand, and though the wound in his side still throbbed, the pain was muffled by the fury in his chest.
Peyton shifted slightly, her blade pressing tighter against Abigail’s throat. “Stay where ye are, or I’ll gut her.” Her voice trembled with barely restrained rage, her eyes gleaming with madness. “Hand me the eyepatch, Kian. I want it.”
Kian’s brow creased, but he nodded once. “Aye, I’ll give it to ye. Just… let her go.”
He stepped forward slowly, the weight of the moment stretching time thin, blood pounding in his ears.
“Let her go?” She laughed cruelly, twisting the sword slightly. “Nay. But if ye hand over yer eyepatch, I might make it quick for her.”
Her lip curled as she took in his torn shirt, the blood seeping into the fabric.
Without another word, Kian reached up. The leather of the strap tugged at his hair as he pulled it off. The eye beneath was shut, a jagged scar sealing it forever.
He held his head high, but inside, he braced himself for Abigail’s reaction. When he dared a glance, her eyes were full of sorrow, not fear, and she gave a small nod—a silent vow.
She looked to the right.
Kian turned his dirk in his hand, blade down, the weapon now an extension of his fury. “Here’s the patch ye wanted so badly,” he growled.
With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the eyepatch straight at Peyton’s face.
She jerked instinctively, her hand rising to catch it. In that fleeting second, her grip on Abigail faltered, her sword angled away. Abigail twisted and dashed to the right.
Kian’s arm moved before thought could form. The dirk flew from his hand like lightning. The blade struck true, burying itself deep in Peyton’s chest. She stumbled backward, her mouth falling open on a choked breath. One hand grasped at the handle in vain.
Her knees gave out beneath her, and she collapsed onto the floor with a dull thud. A rasping cough tore from her throat, and blood flew past her lips. Her eyes, once so sharp and filled with hatred, glazed over.
Kian stood still, his chest heaving, unable to look away. Abigail rushed to his side, her hands reaching for him. He felt her touch and let out a shaky breath, his rage ebbing like a tide, leaving only sorrow and exhaustion in its wake.
Peyton lay silent. Vengeance had consumed her, and in the end, it had destroyed her.
“Guards! Come now! Guards!” Kian bellowed.
His arm tightened around Abigail. He pressed a kiss to her hair, his heart still pounding like a war drum.
“Are ye hurt, lass?” he asked, brushing her face with shaking fingers.
She shook her head against his chest. “Nay, I’m nae hurt. Just… shakin’.”
“I feared I’d lose ye,” he whispered hoarsely. “Feared I’d be too late.”
He held her tighter, as if he could shield her from everything with just his arms.
“Guards! Get in here!” he bellowed again.
The sound of footsteps answered, and in the next breath, Leighton burst through the door with two guards. He halted, his gaze falling to Peyton’s crumpled body.
“Oh God,” he gasped, his eyes wide. “Are ye both all right?”
“Aye,” Abigail said quickly. “But Peyton said the guard in the dungeons helped her escape. She said he’s waitin’ just outside the wall with horses and supplies.”
Kian’s expression darkened. His jaw clenched as his fury returned in full force.
He turned his glare on Leighton. “Go now! Bring that treasonous bastard to me!”
Leighton didn’t hesitate. He spun on his heel, barking commands to the guards as they ran.
The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Kian and Abigail alone once more in the silence, save for the echo of retreating footsteps.
Kian’s arm never left her. He wasn’t ready to let go. Not now, not ever. He held her close.
Her cheek rested against his shoulder, her breathing still uneven. He tilted her face gently, brushing his thumb over the smudge of dirt on her temple.
Her eyes, though tired, sparkled with that same fire that always stirred something fierce in his chest.
“How did ye ken to come?” she asked softly.
Kian gave a low chuckle and kissed her brow. “I heard something crash. Thought maybe ye’d tripped over yer feet, but then I heard a voice in the corridor that didnae belong.”
Abigail chuckled and leaned back just enough to meet his eye. “So, I suppose it’s a good thing ye put me in a room next to yers.”
“Aye,” he said with a crooked grin. “And that I didnae return to the healer’s chambers, as ye kept barkin’ at me to do.”
“Yer stubborn ways saved me,” she murmured, resting her hand over his heart.
He caught it, pressing her palm to the steady thrum beneath his ribs. “If I’d come a minute later?—”
“But ye didnae,” she cut in. “Ye came for me, like ye always have.”
His hand slid up her back, threading into her hair as he looked down at her. “God, Abigail… I cannae stand the thought of losin’ ye. When I heard her voice, I kenned it was her. I kenned she came to hurt ye.”
Abigail’s eyes shimmered, but her lips curled into a smile. “And ye stormed in like a wild boar.”
“I’d tear down the whole castle if it meant gettin’ to ye,” he said hoarsely.
She laughed again, the sound like warmth after frost. “Och, ye daft man.”
He didn’t answer her with words. Instead, he lowered his head and caught her lips in a fierce, deep kiss that conveyed every unsaid fear, every breathless relief, every ounce of love between them.
Her arms twined around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands cupped her face, holding her like she was something precious and breakable.
The kiss deepened, hungry and slow, as though they’d both forgotten the world outside the door. At that moment, it was only them. No past, no danger, just the thrum of hearts and the heat of longing.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Kian rested his forehead against hers, smiling lovingly.
“Stay in me bedchamber tonight,” he said.
“Aye,” she whispered. “Someone has to watch over ye.”