Page 100 of Taken By the Ruthless Highlander

“What?” Morgana gulped, her gaze flicking to Cohen.

“She’s lyin’. That’s all she ever does—lie. Tell her, wife. What was on that cloth? Tell her what it would have done to her,” Cohen growled.

He grabbed Orella by the arm and tossed her to the floor like a ragdoll.

Morgana glanced at the window, only to find it sealed. As she scanned the cottage, it became clear that this was a trap set not for her sister, but for her.

“She was never here, was she?” she choked out as she started for the door.

Cohen jumped in front of her, blocking the only exit.

“Ye would leave yer sister’s murderer alive?” he asked. “Do ye nae see?”

“What? I’ve never—” Orella gasped, lunging at him in a fit of rage.

But she was no match for him, and she was too enraged to see the trap she had walked into.

Morgana clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her scream when Cohen wrapped his fingers around his wife’s neck.

“Ye are but a reed in my hands,” he gritted out. “This is the second time ye’ve tried to take my life, wife. I grow weary of yer antics.”

“Cohen, please,” Morgana whimpered, watching helplessly as Orella’s eyes fluttered.

“She has to die for what she has done,” Cohen growled. “It was because of her that ye were accused of the Laird’s death.”

“I forgive her,” Morgana blurted, hoping that by showing compassion, he would extend grace and mercy.

Morgana’s heart pounded wildly in her chest as she watched the color return to his knuckles.

Orella crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

“By all accounts, she should be dead,” Cohen hissed, rolling his shoulders back as he towered over her. “Say the word and I’ll do it.”

Morgana shook her head. “I would never have ye kill for me.”

She glanced at the door, wondering if she’d be able to escape now that he was distracted. But any sudden movement would only set him off. And after what she had seen him do to his wife, she wasn’t about to get on his bad side.

“But I would,” Cohen said with a manic smile that stretched from ear to ear. “Oh, the things I would do for ye, Morgana. I’d walk through Hell for ye.”

“If that’s the case, then why did ye bring me out here? Where’s my sister?” Morgana asked, inching closer to the door.

“Aye, well, that was a lie,” Cohen admitted, turning his head to her. “But I had to get ye out here for this. Ye had to see that I would turn on even my wife for ye.”

Morgana froze as his eyes landed on her. She wondered if he could read her intention to escape. With the door only a few steps away, she fought the urge to race for it, knowing he was faster and stronger.

“Ye’re nae listenin’,” Morgana said. “I would never betray my husband.”

“I ken,” Cohen muttered.

Her heart stuttered as he took a step toward her, then another, then another, stalking toward her like a predator.

“That’s why I would never ask ye to. But forgive me, I thought I could resist temptation. I thought havin’ ye here…” He stopped before her and raised a hand.

His fingertips grazed her shoulder. It was as if he had cut off a slice of an iceberg and raked it down her spine like a pick axe. She tried not to quake under his touch, so as not to give him the wrong idea, but the goosebumps rising over her skin betrayed her.

Cohen’s lips curled into a leery smile.

“Ye make it nearly impossible to be a gentleman around ye,” he murmured, nuzzling her hair.