Chapter 1

1

T hank God for books.

Sunlight poured through the open window as Emma sat in the nook of her room, devouring the pages of her book. Reading was the only escape she had from the turbulent world around her.

Although she had a roof over her head, and daily meals, her home, which was once filled with laughter and love, was nothing more than four walls and empty ever since her father passed.

The door of her room flew open abruptly, pulling her from the solace of the story. With wide eyes, she looked up to find her sister, Isobel, barging in, her face red and fear flickering across her features.

"What's goin' on?" Emma asked, slamming her book shut. Isobel's breaths came in short bursts as she tried to regain her senses. "What's Geoffery done now?"

"Ye've got to come quick," Isobel finally answered as she pointed to the door. "It's Nora."

Panic shot through Emma as she tossed her book aside and rose swiftly. Isobel turned on her heels as they marched through the barren hallway.

"What's happened? Is she all right?" Emma asked, at her sister's heels.

"He's thrown Nora in the dungeon," Isobel hissed.

"What? Are ye sure? Why?" Emma asked, her voice rigid with barely contained anger.

Isobel nodded, her petite frame bristling with tension. Despite her small stature, unlike Emma's, her body was athletic and curvy, a testament to a lifetime of hard work in the rugged Highlands. Her hair, a golden blonde, was chopped to chin length, on Geoffery's orders, and it fell in untamed waves around her strikingly blue eyes.

At just nineteen, Isobel held a youthful vigor that was impossible to ignore, her features often settling into a maddening expression of stubborn determination.

Emma's fists clenched at her sides as she glanced over at her sister, their footsteps echoing in the hall. Her eyes were narrowed in anger, and her jaw was set in a determined line.

"I watched them, Emma. Geoffrey's men dragged her right out of the garden," answered Isobel, her voice straining from the race to get to Nora.

"On what grounds did he take her?" Emma questioned, her voice icy with impending fury.

"I heard them chargin' Nora with being a witch. And then, they took her. Carried her off like she was some common criminal," Isobel replied, her voice a raspy whisper as Emma's eyes shifted to the open doors, hoping no one else in the area heard them.

"A witch?" Emma echoed, her voice rising incredulously.

Isobel nodded, her face growing ever redder with rage. "They said she'd be tried and killed. I came to ye right away. There's no way I'm goin' to let me sister die as a witch. They'll have to kill me, too."

Emma's hands clenched into tight fists, the cool Highlands air suddenly feeling stifling. "No one is going to die. Besides, there's no evidence. Nora is a healer, we all ken that. It's her callin', and no one does it better than her."

"Ye think I dinnae ken that? I swear, I'll kill Geoffery for this," Isobel growled as they turned the corner.

Emma grabbed Isobel by the shoulders and shook her head. "Keep yer voice down," Emma warned. "It's bad enough Nora is in the dungeon, do ye want to join her as well?"

"I'd like to see them try to take me," Isobel stated defiantly. Her voice echoed angrily through the quiet night, her outrage clear as glass.

"Stop," Emma said, jerking her sister away from the corner. "Ye'll do as I say, understand? Now, keep yer voice down. I'll talk wit' Geoffrey and see what this is all about. Maybe it was a misunderstandin' of sorts."

"Ye cannae believe that." Isobel glared at Emma.

"I dinnae," Emma hissed. "But best to go about this manner carefully. There's nae tellin' what Geoffrey will do next. We've got to be smarter than him. Let me talk to him. I want ye to stay here, understand?"

Resigned to do as she was told, Isobel gave a sharp nod.

With a furious exhale, Emma rolled her shoulders back and stormed down the hallway, her skirts swooshing around her ankles.

The hallway was an austere stretch of stone, weathered by the centuries and cooled by the unforgiving Highland winds. Its steely elegance was a testament to the castle's age and former grandeur, now marred by the ominous threat of witchcraft accusations. The candles in the sconces flickered dimly and cast elongated shadows that danced across the rough-hewn walls that she passed by.

As Emma's boots struck the flagstone with a determined rhythm, the sound echoed through the corridor, a relentless drumbeat of ire and disbelief. Each footfall resounded like a rebel cry, reverberating off the cold, unyielding stones and painting a vivid picture of her simmering wrath.

How dare he do this? He's gone too far. One of these days, someone is goin' to have to put him in his place. I just pray I'll be there to see him get his just rewards.

The very notion that any of them could be considered a witch was beyond ludicrous to Emma. It was an affront, not only to her but to the blood she shared with Geoffrey, since he was, after all, her cousin. Never in a million years did she think he'd be so cruel and callous towards his own family, yet Emma knew in the darkest parts of her being that the Lairdship he coveted so much tainted and twisted him.

Amidst the turmoil, one thought remained crystal clear in her head: she would not let this injustice pass unchallenged.

Emma paused at the closed door of her father's study and gathered her wits. Sucking in a deep breath, she reached for the handle and barged into the room.

"Ah, Emma, come in," Geoffrey said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he looked up from his paperwork with raised eyebrows. "It's nae as though I was busy wit' clan matters or anythin'."

"Did ye have Nora thrown in the dungeons?" Emma demanded, with her fists clenched at her sides.

Anger coursed through her veins as a smug smile tugged at Geoffrey's lips.

"Well, I might have given such an order. It's hard to recall, seein' as how I give many orders around here. Ye ken, yer faither should have kept this place in better order," he said, playing coy as he leaned back in his seat and pressed the tips of his fingers together.

"Why?" Emma snapped. "Ye ken as well as I do that Nora is nay witch. She's a healer, Geoffrey. Any other clan would be proud to have her under their roof, yet ye treat her as if she were a stain."

Geoffrey rose from his seat and moved around the desk. An icy finger ran up Emma's spine as she kept her eyes locked on him.

He moved as if he were a cat stalking its prey. Emma refused to be intimidated by him and kept her shoulders squared as he inched closer to her.

"Aye, but isnae that what they all say until the truth finally slips from their dyin' lips?"

Emma's voice rose in passionate defense, "Nora is nay witch, but a skilled healer. She has saved the lives of countless warriors in our clan. Her talents would be held in high esteem in any other clan. Nae to mention she is family, Geoffrey." The last words were spoken with an accusing tone that reminded him of their shared past.

"I was merely goin' off what me men had told me," he said, his gaze sharp. "They seemed to think Nora's interactions with the blacksmith's son were questionable. I couldnae take the chance. And even if there's a slight chance she is one, do ye nae think it'd be wise for us to keep her locked away? For our safety, of course."

"Why are ye doin' this?" Emma asked and instantly regretted the question the moment it slipped past her lips.

She knew why. Geoffrey's smile stretched as he reached out and took a lock of her hair, fiddling with it as he kept his gaze locked on her.

"Ye ken why."

"Let her go," Emma said, her voice cracking with fear.

"If I am to risk our clan's reputation by setting Nora free, I will need somethin' in return," he said as the back of his fingers brushed ever so slightly against her cheekbone.

Emma pursed her lips into a tight line, defying Geoffrey's intimate gesture. A flash of disgust coursed through her body as she recoiled from him as if he were a snake.

"Ye're sick, Geoffrey. We grew up like siblings, we share blood. What ye're askin' goes against everythin' I stand for, everythin' me faither stood for."

His smirk was unflinching. "It wouldnae be the first time cousins wed, Emma. What I'm proposin' is a simple trade. The question is, though, how far would ye go for family? Nora is yer older sister, and by rights, I should wed her, but ye, ye're the one I've had me eye on."

"Never," Emma hissed.

Geoffrey's eyebrow arched as he let her hair slip through his fingers.

"I wouldnae be so hasty wit' me decision. After all, Nora's life is in yer hands now, nae mine. I want a response to me proposal by tonight. If ye agree, Nora goes free. If not, well, I'll have to look elsewhere—perhaps Lydia would be more amenable. She does have a fairer face."

"Ye're nae goin' to lay one finger on any of me sisters," Emma growled.

"Then death," Geoffrey said without hesitation.

His words were cut short as an arrow whizzed past, embedding itself in the oak desk with a thud. Emma whipped her head around. Standing in the doorway, bow in hand, was Isobel, with as much of a fire burning within her gaze as Emma's.

"Next time, Cousin, I willnae miss," Isobel warned, her voice icy and distant.

The color drained from Geoffrey's face, turning his smug smile into a scowl. Emma stepped back as Geoffrey's face contorted with rage. The vein in his forehead bulged as he glanced over his shoulder at the arrow embedded in his desk.

"How dare ye defy me," he hissed and plucked the arrow out. "This is treason."

"Let me sister go," Isobel barked as she nocked another arrow.

Emma jumped between them, holding her hands out, desperate to calm the storm raging within the study.

"Sister, put the bow down," Emma encouraged.

"I'd listen to yer sister." Geoffrey snickered as he tossed the arrow to the floor.

"Ye're defendin' him?" Isobel snapped. "After everythin' he's put us through? He's charged Nora with witchcraft. Now, he's goin' to release her, or so help me, I'll end him before he can call the guards."

"Izzy, please, ye're makin' matters worse," Emma said.

"Ye have nay idea. Ye'll regret this day, the lot of ye. Guards! Seize them! They are a threat to our clan!"