Page 43

Briar

I walked up the gravel path, the stones crunching beneath my feet.

Each step brought sharp edges pushing into the soles of my shoes before they shifted uneasily beneath my weight.

The wind whipped around me, carrying the scent of the sea, and the sky hung heavy and gray.

It was as if nature itself knew what I was feeling and was doing its best to mirror those emotions.

The island was small, barely two square miles, but the trek across it from the pier had given me more than enough time to grapple with the confusion swirling in my mind.

I was finally here, back where my family had come from before Lady Isobel’s conviction.

A serenity wrapped around my mind, telling me I was truly home, walking the path of my ancestors.

It was like the land itself called out to me, wanting to embrace and claim me as one of its own.

I tried to focus on that instead of the uncertainty and anxiety that caused my heart to flutter.

I reached the end of the gravel path and stared ahead, confronted by a sight I hadn’t expected.

The howling wind pressed into my ears, and salt stung my eyes.

Enormous black stones lay broken at the bottom of what had once been a massive wall.

I tentatively stepped into the grass, squishing my foot into the soft ground.

Lyons Hold stood before me, nothing more than ruins—a reflection, perhaps, of something inside me.

I fought back tears as I made my way forward, all at once thankful that my mother had never learned about Lady Isobel—had never learned that all that existed was a torn and broken delusional woman who gave up her life for revenge. Wasn’t that what had happened?

I flexed my fingers against the biting wind, the ruins before me screaming a warning. At one point, this all would have belonged to Lady Isobel, but it, and our family, had been reduced to nothing.

I climbed the hill. The thick stones that remained in the wall—some almost a foot across—broke the wind as I walked through what had once been the front door.

The cold air swirled around me, carrying the scent of the damp and decay.

I wandered forward across the grass. This must have once been the grand hall.

I tried to imagine what it would have looked like, but could only see desolation.

To the right, the walls towered over me. I peered through the first door, finding a spiral stone staircase that would have once led to the upper levels. I didn’t dare climb it, as small pebbles and stones sat on some of the higher steps.

Through the second doorway lay a decrepit chamber. I struggled to place what the large space could be. Small shafts of light filtered through the sagging expanse above me. Rusted metal fixtures adorned the walls at regular intervals. Would they have been sconces?

I walked in, the smell of rotting wood surrounding me. An enormous stone fireplace dominated the space, a coat of arms barely discernible above it. Ivy and weeds snaked in through cracks in the walls, possibly the only living things to remain in residence among these walls since 1810.

I walked to the fireplace, a desire to run my hands over the crest burning inside me. I touched the edge, and a shower of dust coated my hair.

I fought against the knot constricting my throat and leaned against the wall before my knees buckled and I sank to the cold ground.

I closed my eyes, the exhaustion overtaking me.

The damp stone stole the warmth from my skin, and the wind sang through the empty window frames and mortarless walls.

I pulled my jacket tighter around myself, allowing the tears to burn my cheeks as they streamed down my face.

My breath stuttered and a sharp pang shot through my ribs.

How could I have let myself believe Lorcan cared about me?

I was tired of thinking about him, of the memory of him fucking me, driving me to an ecstasy I had never known playing incessantly behind my eyelids.

I didn’t want to be doing this anymore. I didn’t want to be thinking about him.

A hollowness settled in my stomach. I just wanted to forget.

I curled my fingers into fists, my nails biting into my palms as the ache in my chest spread like wildfire.

I struggled to pull in air as my sobs curled around me.

And how fitting it seemed. Lady Isobel had thought the Lorcan of her time cared about her too—that he would save her.

But he hadn’t. He hadn’t kept her from harm the way he had promised.

He hadn’t made sure that her life would go on unchanged.

He had destroyed her life as the Lorcan of my time destroyed mine.

A sound exploded from my chest: half a sob, half a bitter laugh.

He hadn’t destroyed my life. He’d destroyed all the walls I’d built around me—the ones that kept me alone despite a wealth of friends.

I’d only ever let Amy and Mum in. It had always been safer that way.

Unlike this castle around me, my walls never crumbled.

People can’t hurt you unless you let them get close. But you can’t fall in love, either.

Lorcan hadn’t left even one stone standing.

My hand fell to what remained of the stone hearth in front of the fireplace, dark and cold. I had let Lorcan in, and he had torn down my defenses. I had allowed myself to love. But instead of finding sanctuary and discovering security, I had been left with ruins.

Maybe being alone was the fate of everyone in my family.

Lady Isobel had allowed someone in, and it had changed her life so drastically—damned her to start over on an entirely new continent.

I shivered against the gust of wind that pushed through the walls, whispering of ghosts of the past. Did she ever truly fall in love with her second husband?

Or was it the very thing her father had feared—a marriage of convenience? One to ensure her survival?

I lay my head in my arms, my knees drawn to my chest. I would not make the same mistake.

I would never again be hurt the way Lorcan had hurt me.

I would remain in control. No one needed to be that close to me.

I was better off without them. I would live my life in comfort and security, just as my mother had taught me.

I inhaled sharply, letting the air fill my lungs. No more mistakes. No more submission or pain—just me in control of my heart.

I stood, brushing the dust from my jeans, and exited the room.

Pausing in the doorway, I looked up at the sky.

Where it had once been gray, it was now black.

A large drop of rain splashed onto the stone before me, marking its surface with a fine dark sheen.

The wind threaded through my hair like icy fingers.

I pulled up the hood of my jacket, preparing for a wet jog back to the pier.

By the time I arrived, the ferry was waiting. I made my way down the concrete slope and hurried onto the back of the boat. Warmth enveloped me as I walked into the small cabin, water dripping from my jacket.

“Good thing you made it on, lass. Likely this will be the last ferry with this storm,” said the operator as he approached me.

I handed him my ticket to return to Tingwall and forced a smile. “I wouldn’t want to be stuck out there for the night.”

He nodded before walking away.

I sat back, resting my head against the headrest. I had found everything I needed here—everything I wanted and more.

I would go to Dún Na Farraige and see where Isobel was presented as the Baroness of Blackcairn. And while there, I would say goodbye to Lorcan’s ghost at the home where he had told me he grew up.

But after that?

I would never think about him again.