Page 42 of Love Beyond Time (Morna’s Legacy #1)

Arran left his brother’s bedchamber with a heavy heart. He’d never seen Eoin so devastated, and it made him realize how wrong he’d been about Bri. Eoin loved her just as much as he loved Blaire, and seeing that made him feel guilty for how ardently he’d tried to send her away.

It was selfish behavior, and now that Bri was gone, he found himself wishing that he could do something to get her back. Even if Eoin was right and they’d all be dead come evening, Arran knew Eoin was weaker without Bri by his side.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, then, when he passed Bri on his way down to the dungeon.

She said nothing to him; she only smiled briefly in his direction before hurrying on her way.

It was such a normal interaction that it took Arran a moment before he realized that she shouldn’t have been there.

He whirled around to catch her attention before she got too far away. “Bri! Come here, lass.”

He moved in her direction, meeting her halfway in the middle of the room.

“I’m sorry, Arran. I don’t have time. I’ve got to find Eoin.”

Arran reached to grab her arm. “What the hell are ye still doing here? Ye should be gone by now.”

“I’m not going, Arran. I know he wants to keep me safe. But I can’t do it.”

Arran smiled and waved her away, dismissing her. “Get on with ye lass. Ye will find him in his chambers. I’m glad ye dinna listen to him. He needs ye here.”

With Bri remaining here during the battle, it was even more important that he get the truth out of the runaway.

The lad was close to breaking, and as he entered the dungeon and laid eyes on the man hanging unconscious from his wrists, he grabbed the pail of the man’s urine and threw it in the runaway’s face.

“Time to wake up. I’ve no more patience for ye, lad. It’s time for ye to make a choice. Ye can either tell me who yer real master is and the real reason that ye’re here, or I’m slowly going to slice each one of yer wee toes off, and ye’ll find them served to ye this evening.”

The runaway groaned, unable to raise his head to look Arran in the eyes. “I doona believe ye will do it.”

Arran grabbed the knife he’d left lying near the entrance to the dungeon. Moving quickly, before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed the runaway’s big right toe, swiftly sliced it off, and tossed it to the ground.

The man’s screams bounced off the dungeon walls. “No one will hear ye, lad. It’s just ye and me. Now, do ye want to lose the others or are ye willing to talk?”

“Aye. Aye. Doona cut another. I work for Laird Kinnard. He’s the one that plans to attack ye, no Laird MacLyrron.” The runaway puked out onto the floor; the pain radiating from his foot made him ill.

“Is what ye say true, lad?”

“Aye, I swear it on me father’s grave.”

“Aye? Well, ye shall meet him there now.” Arran drew his blade quickly across the runaway’s neck, jumping back to avoid the spray of blood as the man took in his last breath.

Bri wasn’t the only one who needed to find Eoin. Perhaps now that Arran knew the truth, they would have time to stop Ramsay’s treacherous plan.