Page 16 of Bound to a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #8)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

T he night air was cool on Tiernan’s cheeks. The sky above was dark and he couldn’t help but have some concern that a storm was about to come, clouds gathering swiftly to bring in the rain. It was late, so late that all the patrons had gone to bed, and he was the only one who was sitting there, outside the inn, simply breathing in.

He had made a terrible mistake. He should have never touched Isabeau, no matter how much she had wanted him to or how much sense her words had made in that moment. He could understand her frustration. And why a woman like her, who had never been allowed to do anything she wanted, would desire it—would desire him, even. He was aware of the effect he had on certain women. The fact that he had once been a brigand was appealing to many of them, and Isabeau had fallen in the same trap. Not only that, but she had wanted to experience what it was like to be with a man, something for which he could not blame her.

Of course, she was curious. Of course, she wanted to experience it after having been protected for so long. But he shouldn’t have been the one to touch her. The mere thought that he was the first one to ever bring her such pleasure, to see her in the throes of passion was enough to drive him insane with need, the knowledge more intoxicating than any wine. But that was a selfish notion. He had been terribly selfish this entire time, thinking that touching her once would bring no harm. But how could that be when before him, she had been so pure? He had not been lying to her when he told her that he wasn’t a good man. Even if he had changed, even if he was a blacksmith now, a man with an honest profession, he could not erase his past. It would haunt him forever. He couldn’t outrun it, no matter how much he tried. She would always be better than him, deserve better than him.

On top of everything else, there was also the concern of their mission. It was a dangerous one, one that he would much rather face alone. He should have been firmer with her, he should have forced her to go back to the castle, where she would have been safe. As much as he understood her fear for her people and her family, he doubted there was much Beag could do once she was behind the castle walls.

Then again, there was no guarantee he would not move in secret, concocting a sly plan to hurt her and thus him, for disobeying.

“What are ye doin’ out here?”

Isabeau’s voice pulled Tiernan out of his thoughts and he jumped a little, surprised by her sudden presence. So lost had he been in his thoughts that he hadn’t even heard her, which was certainly not a good thing for a man who was being hunted. He had to be more cautious, more alert. For all he knew, danger lurked just around the corner.

“Just thinkin’,” he said with a small shrug, looking at her over his shoulder with a small, hesitant smile. The air between them seemed even chillier. Something had changed, he knew, in that room, something he could never take back, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Isabeau regretted it.

What would he do if she did? Everything was different between them now, but they still had to complete their mission. They would have to be in close proximity, always around each other, at least for the foreseeable future. If she regretted what had happened, that would be impossible.

“What are ye thinkin’ about?” Isabeau asked, coming to sit next to him. She was wearing her clothes once more and was even bundled up in her cloak, which she had pulled tightly around her shoulders to battle the chill. Tiernan wanted to reach for her, to wrap his arms around her and ensure she was warm, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t know if it would be the right thing to do.

“The mission,” he said. It was only a half-lie. He was, indeed, thinking about the mission, but that was all he was willing to share with Isabeau of what was going through his mind. He wasn’t going to tell her about his doubts for the moments they had shared. “It’s all I can think about these days.”

Isabeau said nothing, but she did place a gentle hand on his shoulder, which Tiernan took as a good sign. If she was still willing to be near him, or touch him, if she was concerned enough about him to follow him out into the cold, then perhaps he hadn’t ruined everything between them.

It was a blessing, and Tiernan had long since learned to count his.

For a while, the two of them sat there, leaning closer and closer to each other to battle the cold. Just as Tiernan was about to tell Isabeau to head inside, though, he heard the distinctive sound of footsteps nearby and he jumped to his feet, immediately putting himself between the sound and Isabeau. From the shadows, men emerged all around, surrounding them, and before Tiernan knew what was happening, Isabeau’s scream pierced the silent night as one of the men grabbed her.

Tiernan’s head whipped around just in time to see him press a blade to her throat, the sharp edge digging into her skin. And in that moment, it was as though all those months he had spent as a blacksmith had evaporated from memory, leaving behind nothing but the man he had once been—ruthless and dangerous.

Within seconds, his knife was in his hand and his body moved before he could even make a conscious thought. Years of training had left him with sharp reflexes, and with a swift, precise movement, the man who was threatening Isabeau dropped dead after Tiernan sliced his throat open. Screaming once more, frightened, Isabeau stepped back, far away from the man’s body, but Tiernan couldn’t look away from the blood that fountained from his throat, staining everything red.

His chest heaved and his eyes turned glassy, his gaze distant as he turned around to spot the rest of the men. There were three of them, two he could not recognize and, much to his chagrin, Beag.

He didn’t know why he had ever expected anything else. He should have known Beag would do something like this, just to infuriate him.

But Tiernan wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of taking this without a fight. He had already killed one of his men, and now the other two were advancing towards him, both with their knives in their hands and menacing looks on their faces. Tiernan adjusted his stance, preparing himself for the fight that was to come, light on his feet. One of Beag’s men attacked first, charging at him, but he was too big and too slow. With a feint to the left, Tiernan avoided the worst of the blow the man was about to deliver and counterattacked immediately, carving a line across his stomach with his knife. He, too, fell to the ground with a thud, just like his partner, staring blankly at the sky as the light left his eyes.

His ribs stung with the shallow cut he had sustained, but the pain was in the depths of his mind. He was so removed from it that he hardly felt it at all, adrenaline coursing through his veins and making him feel nothing but the exhilaration of the fight, the drumming of his heart.

Then there was only one left. The man was foolish enough to try and kill Tiernan instead of fleeing, but having seen the other two lose their lives so easily, he was reluctant to attack first. Tiernan had no such qualms. He threw himself at the man, punching him across the face with his left hand as the right stabbed him in the gut once, twice, before finally letting him crumble to the ground.

A widened view returned to Tiernan slowly, his eyes focusing on more than just his targets. He was covered from head to toe in blood and drops of it dripped from his fingers, pooling by his feet. The three men had all taken their last breaths and Beag stood several paces away, keeping his distance from Tiernan.

That, at least, was smart.

“What dae ye think ye’re doin’?” Tiernan asked as his hand tightened around the blade, his gaze flitting over to Isabeau, who had only just dared to peek her head out from the side of the inn. She had done her best to stay away from the fight, much to his relief, but he knew she had witnessed all the carnage. There was no avoiding it; even if she hadn’t seen him fight, she could now clearly see all the bodies on the ground.

He had half a mind to kill Beag too and get it over with, but he didn’t know if that would be a clever thing to do. He had no idea who Beag’s allies were and how many men were loyal enough to him to seek revenge. He also didn’t know how many other men were lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. Surely, he had not only come there with those three, Tiernan thought. With Isabeau there, he didn’t want to risk it.

“What am I daein’?” Beag asked with a scoff. “What are ye daein’? I told ye tae kill Constantine, nae tae befriend him! An’ yet me men told me that ye spent an entire afternoon with him… an’ nae only that, but ye plan on seein’ him again on the morrow. Did ye think I wouldnae find out?”

“I did, actually,” Tiernan said. “How did ye find out?”

“I have me men everywhere,” said Beag. “They’re watchin’ yer every move. Ye should be careful when ye talk, ye never ken who may be listenin’.”

How did I nae ken I was bein’ followed?

Perhaps the men Beag had set after him and Isabeau were that good or perhaps Tiernan was so distracted by everything else that this had faded in the background, the least of his concerns.

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, though it hardly helped at all. “What does it matter tae ye how I approach him? As long as I kill him.”

“Dae ye expect me tae believe that ye’re tryin’ tae kill him?” Beag asked. “If ye were tryin’, ye would’ve already done it. Ye’re colludin’ with him, I ken it.”

“Are ye insane?” Tiernan demanded, throwing his hands up in the air. “First, ye force me tae kill him, then ye accuse me o’ colludin’ with him. I’m only tryin’ tae dae what ye asked o’ me an’ yet here ye are, makin’ it all the worse fer me. I have a plan. Ye will either allow me tae enact it, or ye will be at the end o’ me blade.”

As Tiernan spoke, he pointed his knife at Beag, taking a few steps towards him. Sure enough, just as he had expected, he heard shuffling footsteps from the shadows around them, as though there were more men awaiting Beag’s orders. Instead of telling them to attack, though, Beag only shot Tiernan one last, scathing look and fled, his boots echoing in the air around him until they disappeared into the distance.

Along with him, his men disappeared too, fleeing into the night. Tiernan had been determined to kill them too if it came to it. He would kill anyone who dared come close and threaten Isabeau, no matter what it took.

Isabeau… she must be so frightened.

Turning around, Tiernan met her gaze reluctantly, fearing what he would see. Isabeau had just seen him kill three men in the span of seconds, taking their lives with such ease that even a part of him was surprised. He had never hesitated in his killings; he had never second-guessed himself or given any of his victims much thought, but he had wanted to believe it was different now. He had wanted to believe he had turned into a different person.

How wrong he had been to think he could change. Even now, he was nothing but a killer.

And yet, even though Isabeau shied away from the three bodies close to her feet, she didn’t flinch away from Tiernan. She held his gaze, trusting and entirely unafraid.