Phelan grinned when he and Rhys clashed again. He lost count of the hits he gave and the ones Rhys landed. A tree groaned ominously when Rhys threw him into it. In the next moment Phelan tossed Rhys against a boulder.
Their fighting had them rolling down the mountain again until they landed in the valley. It was Rhys’s laughter that made Phelan pause.
He was on his back and looked over to find Rhys had risen up on his elbow staring at him. The curious sheep drew closer to them, and that’s when Phelan felt one sniff his face.
Phelan shooed away the animal and sat up. He drew his knees up until he could put his heels in the ground. Then he wrapped his arms around his knees and clasped his hands together.
“I’m game for that anytime,” Rhys said as he sat up.
“As am I.”
“Do you feel better?”
The smile Phelan had slipped. He looked away from Rhys’s probing aqua gaze. “I swore no
“Let the past go, Phelan.”
It didn’t go unnoticed by him that Rhys was giving him the same advice he’d given Aisley. “Isla took me from my family.”
“A family that was no’ only on the run to save your life, but a royal one at that. You’re royalty, Phelan. A prince. And your family never left Scotland. They remained, searching until death took them.”
“Why did she look into my past? What could’ve been there that Aisley wanted to use against me?”
“Maybe it wasna to use something against you but to help you.”
Phelan looked up to find Rhys standing above him with a hand held out to help him up. He took it, and Rhys pulled him to his feet.
“Contain your fury until you’ve captured Aisley, Phelan, or Wallace will get the better of you.”
He knew Rhys gave solid advice, but he couldn’t get Aisley out of his head. How could he set aside his anger if he couldn’t stop thinking of her?
* * *
Consciousness came to Aisley slowly. She realized she was sitting up and opened her eyes to a distortion of colors. It took her blinking several times before she was able to focus on what she was looking at.
A cold, sinking feeling filled her when she saw the iron bars. She didn’t need to look around to know where she was.
Jason’s prison below the mansion.
“So you’re finally awake.”
She hadn’t dreamed him preventing her from jumping. He really was there. Aisley couldn’t stop her racing heart, but she’d be damned before she let Jason know how much just the sound of his voice frightened her.
“No quip, cousin?” Jason shifted from outside the bars and moved out of the shadows. “What happened to your cheeky comments always at the ready?”
The one thing she hadn’t wanted to happen had. She was in Jason’s clutches. Whatever death Phelan planned to give her would be nothing compared to what Jason would do.
She looked at her cousin. “You disgust me.”
“You were no’ so disgusted when I pulled you out of that gutter.”
“Believe me, you slimy bugger, I wish I’d have refused you.”
“As if I’d have let you.” Jason narrowed his gaze on her. “You think you control your destiny, Aisley, when in fact it’s in my hands.”
She lifted her chin in a show of defiance. “Do you still feel like that bullied weasel of a boy from school, Jason? Do those lads who used to push you around still give you nightmares?”
“You’ve no idea, do you?”
A ripple of terror rolled down her back. “What do you mean?”
“You doona know what I’ve become. You doona yet comprehend what I can do to you. But you will, Aisley, you will.”
His eyes flashed solid black before magic slammed into her, breaking several ribs.
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
“What now?” Phelan demanded when he walked into the large room to find Rhys, Banan, and Charon playing pool.
Charon called his play before the ball rolled into the pocket. He slowly straightened and held his pool cue beside him. “While you and Rhys were … letting off some steam, Banan and I did a little research on what Aisley discovered.”
“Doona say her name.” Phelan couldn’t stand to hear it. Already she invaded his every thought. Everything reminded him of her. It was too much.
His hands itched to hold her against him, to run his hands through her midnight hair. It had only been a few hours without her. How could he face eternity?
Banan walked around the table, never taking his eyes off the burgundy felt and the balls scattered on it as he decided on his play. Finally he stopped and leaned over the table to call his shot, carefully holding the cue as he lined up his play and took his aim, knocking a solid yellow ball in a pocket. “So we willna say her name. Are you going to comment on the fact we found something?”
“What do you want me to say?” Phelan looked out one of the many windows on the opposite wall at the mountains that urged him to walk their craggy slopes and get lost in the wilds of Scotland.
Rhys chuckled from an overstuffed leather chair he reclined in, sipping the famous Dreagan scotch. “I told you, Banan. Phelan doesna want to know.”
“You want to know,” Charon told him. “Trust me.”
Phelan rubbed his hand over his jaw thinking he needed to shave so he wouldn’t scrape Aisley’s skin. Then he recalled she was no longer his. He remembered the betrayal and the lies.
And his heart shattered all over again.
“Tell me,” he said when Banan missed his second shot.
Rhys rose and poured two glasses of whisky before turning and handing one to Phelan. “You look like you could use this.”
“Ais—” Banan stopped and cleared his throat. “She was on the right track. With more time I think she would’ve discovered what we did.”
Charon eyed a striped purple ball and lined up his pool cue. “She found where you’re from, and she learned your family fled in order to save you. What she didna learn was about your blood.”
“What do you mean my family left to save me? Didna everyone have the same kind of blood?” Phelan asked.
“Nay,” Charon said and took his shot. Two stripes found pockets. He moved to line up another play. “It seems your blood was rare, even for your family.”
Phelan absorbed that info as Charon’s next shot bounced off the eight ball and hit the side of the table before colliding with a blue stripe that rolled into a side pocket.
Charon stood and caught his gaze. “In other words, you were precious to the entire royal family. It seems your uncle let it be known about your blood because of jealousy. Your parents left Saxony that night, though they were unlucky enough to run into a group of peasants who tried to take you.”
“Your younger sister was killed in that attack,” Rhys said.
To know that his family had gone to such lengths to protect just one of their children left Phelan ashamed of himself for the hateful thoughts he’d had of them over the centuries.
“How many siblings did I have?” he asked.
