Could Moiré know for certain that he’d not been killed when she’d been with Faye the entire time?
She slowed her pace as they neared the edge. The deep blue sea stretched endlessly beyond, and the breaking waves over the rocks below filled their ears. Faye’s heart slammed in her chest, its rapid-fire beat so loud, it drowned out nearly everything else. It was a pain more vicious than anything she’d ever felt.
Her mother’s words rushed back to her, the reminder that the glory of love was worth the pain of loss. Such a thought hadn’t fully registered with Faye. Not until that very moment.
But she wouldn’t think of Ewan being dead. She couldn’t.
“What about Lara?” Faye asked.
Moiré narrowed her eyes. “Ye’re too clever. Mayhap, ’tis a good thing ye’ve interrupted my plans.” She lifted her shoulder. “Lara’s womb finally took root.”
It was too much. Faye’s feet stopped moving forward. She wouldn’t die like Lara had.
“Walk.” Moiré prodded Faye in the belly with the dagger, her hand at Faye’s back pressing even harder.
This was exactly the reason Faye’s eldest brother had insisted his sisters train so hard. To ensure they were never in such a position. She couldn’t think through the moves too much, not when each thought resulted in a new way everything could go so horribly wrong. She had to trust that she was strong enough, skilled enough. Or the cost would be her life as well as that of her unborn child.
Faye jerked sharply to the side as she swung her elbow into Moiré’s face. The blade sank reflexively into Faye’s side, more pressure than pain. Moiré put her hand to her face where she’d been struck.
An opportunity to run.
One Faye would not waste.
She sprinted back toward the forest. Warmth washed over her side where she’d been sliced, but she forced her thoughts from it. She was nearly halfway to the tree line when a solid weight knocked into her back and sent her landing hard on the ground. Pain shot through her side and dazzled her vision from where the wound at her side absorbed the impact.
Faye kicked her feet out, hitting one foot square into Moiré’s chest. Moiré staggered backward. But not far enough. Before Faye could scramble to her feet, Moiré was on her again.
Her fists came down on Faye, merciless and unending. Faye blocked them as they came, each one stinging at her forearms, unable to get a hit of her own. She thrust her hips up and pushed with all her might. The action sent Moiré crashing to the ground beside her.
This time, Faye managed to get to her feet. Something caught against her toe, tripping her, so she sprawled forward. The thing at her foot pulled. Moiré, dragging her backward, toward the cliff.
But Faye wasn’t done fighting yet.
The cliffs were visible in the far distance. Ewan leaned closer to his horse, urging the beast onward. To Faye. And their bairn in her womb.
The agony in his chest was so intense, it made drawing air difficult. He couldn’t lose her. Not when he hadn’t told her he loved her. Not when they were just starting their life together.
As they grew nearer, Ewan fell prey to despair. No figures were visible as they approached the spot where Lara had died.
And then he saw it, a woman in a yellow kirtle with brown hair pulling another person backward by her leg, a woman with blond hair.
Ewan’s heart caught.
Faye.
And Moiré.
Ewan cried out to his horse in an effort to make him go faster, but the beast was already going as swiftly as was possible.
Faye kicked at Moiré, who continued pulling her to the cliff’s edge. Ewan watched, helpless as Faye struck out at Moiré. She fell, and the two rolled on the ground together, arms lashing out, legs kicking.
Ewan’s pulse ticked with frenzy. They were still too far.
All at once, Faye sent Moiré flying off her, as she scrambled to her feet and ran. It looked like she might escape when Moiré lifted something and threw it at Faye’s head.
Faye dropped, unmoving.
Ewan cried out, but he was still too damn far away, his voice drowned out by the wind.
Moiré pulled Faye by her feet, so her skirts bunched up as she was dragged. Still, Faye did not move. Not even when Moiré was poised with her at the edge of the cliff.
Ewan was closer now. It would be mere moments until he could help.
But before he had the opportunity, Moiré shoved at Faye, so her body rolled to the very edge of the cliff.
Nay.
Ewan wanted to call out to them again, but he couldn’t. Not with his heart lodged in his throat. He pulled his dagger free and rode with such haste, the world bounced around him.
It would be difficult to strike Moiré from his current position, but not impossible. Ewan held his breath to steady his hand and released the dagger.
It sailed through the air toward Moiré, its path true. Just as it was about to connect, she bent, and it flew over her head. His insides crumpled at his failure. And of what it might mean.
Oblivious to what had happened, Moiré shoved at Faye. A startled scream carried on the wind toward Ewan.
He found his voice and bellowed against the wind for Moiré to stop. She doubtless couldn’t hear him over the roar of the waves crashing against the rocks below the cliff, for she didn’t even turn. Nay, she kicked her foot hard at Faye with an impact that sent her rolling over the edge of the cliff.
“Moiré.” Her name tore up through his soul, raw with rage and horror.
His cousin spun around just as a hand shot out and grabbed her by the ankle. In one moment, she was standing there, gaping in surprise at Ewan and the next, she was gone. A shriek caught on the wind and died away.
But it was not his cousin he feared for. He dismounted
