Faye pulled her cloak from the hook on the wall and banged out of the front door. The cool afternoon air hit the heat of her face. She breathed it in, letting the fresh crispness of it revive her, and began to walk.
The path was the same she’d strode down before for the same reasons. She knew she should wish she could release the pent-up hurt from all those years ago, but it lingered like a picked wound. And, in truth, she wanted to hold onto it. The wall she’d erected around her bruised heart would keep it safe.
A warning suddenly tapped in the back of her mind. She jerked right, but it was too late. Something akin to a stone wall slammed into her, knocking her to the ground.
The world spun around her as her thoughts reeled.
Before she could think to retaliate, the iron grip of arms tightened around her torso.
Her body acted on instinct and Faye drove her elbow into her attacker. Never had she been more grateful for the lessons Drake had taught them after seeing how skilled Lord Werrick’s daughters were at fighting.
Whoever held her grunted and the tension around her loosened. Faye pulled her arm free and slammed her elbow back once more, this time meeting with the unyielding surface of a bony face. Pain shot up her arm, the mark of a solid hit.
She leapt to her feet and pulled the dagger from her belt. Three men stood around her, surprise evident on their faces as they looked from her to the skinny man writhing over his injuries on the ground. Their shock lasted only a moment, and in the time Faye spun around to flee, they were already grabbing for her.
She stabbed the first one in the shoulder, but as he released her, another man caught a fistful of her hair and yanked her backward. She went with the momentum of his tug and shoved into him, using her elbows once more, this time on the middle of his neck, so he choked and gasped for breath.
The final man was larger than his friends. Despite her efforts to evade him, he managed to lock her in a grip so firm, she couldn’t even wriggle one elbow free. She twisted in his hold, lunging her torso to the right and bit his arm.
His sleeve was filthy, sour with mustiness, but she didn’t let go. She’d rather die than give in to these men. It was widely known what happened to abducted women.
She sank her teeth more savagely into his skin, tasting the metallic copper of his blood. He growled, a low, animalistic sound that reverberated through her and rattled loose deep fear. Panic nipped at the fraying edges of her control. She had to keep a level head, or she would surely die.
But no matter how she locked her jaw on him, he did not release her. Indeed, the harder she clamped, the more he squeezed until she could scarcely draw breath.
A flash of pain exploded at the side of her head, and everything went dark.
Faye awoke in a large wooden crate that bounced about like a wagon crossing rugged terrain. A weight had settled over her wrists, cutting into the skin. She squinted in the darkness where slivers of light sliced into her prison. Metal shackles bound her wrists together.
Her frantic breath huffed around her, echoing against the wooden box.
She’d been captured.
Taken from her family. Drawn away from her home. Every roll of the clattering wheels took her that much farther from Castleton. But to where?
And why?
Her panting breath dug into her fear and exacerbated it. Would her mother know she’d been abducted? Would her family think she’d left in anger?
She clenched her teeth, and determination grew inside her with visceral force and she threw her body weight against the side of the crate. The whole thing rocked on its side.
Outside, someone cursed, and the movement drew to a stop.
“She’s a fecking hellcat,” a man said.
Faye clasped her iron-bound hands together. They had no idea how much of a “fecking hellcat” she could be.
A clatter came from the left side of her crate as the latch was lifted. She edged toward it, held her breath and waited. When a crack of light appeared, she lunged through the opening and slammed her manacled hands at her captor’s head. The man dropped to the forest floor like a sack of grain.
Strong arms wrapped around her, locking her in place as they’d done before. “I’m wearing leather this time,” the man said in a low, menacing voice. “Even ye canna bite through that.”
“Faye.” Her name was barked with the authority of a father figure scolding their bairn.
She glared up at the man who dared call her thus and met the familiar green eyes of the Ross Chieftain. Her own grandfather.
“Ye’ve abducted me,” she accused. “Ye’ve stolen me from my home and my family.”
“I am yer family,” her grandfather said in a gravelly tone.
“Ye’ll never be my family.” She kicked out her legs, but the man behind her only tightened his hold.
“Where are ye taking me?” she demanded.
“To yer betrothed.” Ross crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at her. “Because ye’re too damn stubborn to listen to reason.”
“How is there any reason for this?” She shook her shoulders to free her captor’s hands off her.
Her grandfather nodded at the man. “Ye can release her.”
“If she bites me again, I’ll beat her,” the man warned.
“Do ye hear that?” Her grandfather raised his brows at her. “I willna stop him.”
The warrior released her with a shove. She staggered to remain upright and looked around for the first time. They were…nowhere. A scattered forest surrounded them, without a house or person who might help in sight.
She had no idea how long she’d been in that damn box, or how long she’d been knocked out senseless. Her head ached with each thrum of her heart; the beat reverberated in her skull.
“Ye’re to marry Ewan Sutherland, Chieftain of
