Chapter 26

"Ihave a gift fer ye."

Faolan stood at the door to Cathleen's chambers, looking terribly pleased with himself, which could only mean that whatever gift he had for her would be a cruelty. Cathleen sat by the window, reading in the light of the sun rays that streamed through the clouds, and she didn't even look up from her book when she heard Faolan enter.

Naturally, that only enraged him and he walked up to her, snatching the book from her hand, the force almost tearing the page off.

Cathleen sighed, looking up at him with an unimpressed look on her face. "I dinnae wish tae have nay gifts from ye," she said. "Ye can keep it."

"Ach, but I'm sure ye'll wish tae see this one," said Faolan, the anger he had shown only moments prior already dissipating. He was a strange man, governed by his wildly shifting emotions unless he was masking them behind a manufactured politeness, and Cathleen never knew how to deal with him whenever they were alone, with no one else there to act as a buffer between them and force him to be kind. "Especially after all the trouble I had findin' it."

With a huff, Cathleen braced herself on the armrests of her chair and pushed herself off her seat, glaring at Faolan. "I told ye I want naething from ye. Dae ye truly think ye can win me over with gifts? Dae ye think yer jewels an' yer lace an' fine fabrics can change anythin'? Ye'll still be forcin' me intae a marriage I dinnae want."

Faolan's irritation grew as he listened to her and Cathleen could see that he was barely restraining himself from grabbing her, his hands curled into fists by his sides. Still, he only took a step closer, leaning in until their noses were almost touching, the entire time sneering at her.

"Dae ye think I have any need or desire tae bring ye jewels an' fabrics?" he asked. "Ye're already mine. Ye have nae choice but tae be me wife an' give me the clan, so there is nae reason fer me tae court ye. It would only be a waste o' time."

Cathleen didn't flinch, remaining still, no matter how much she wanted to pull back from him, repulsed by his proximity. "If ye already have what ye want then why did ye bring me a gift?"

"Fer me own amusement," Faolan admitted and something about his tone made Cathleen's stomach drop. "Though I truly think it is somethin' ye wish tae see."

Could it be? Could it be that he has Macauley?

Terror coursed through her at the thought, chilling her to the core. She was paralyzed from it, unable to move even as Faolan turned around to leave the room, her fear keeping her rooted to that small patch of floor where she stood.

Only when Faolan had already left, his footsteps echoing down the hall, did Cathleen manage to move again, rushing after him. If it truly was Macauley that he wanted to show her, then she wouldn't miss her chance to see him, and if it wasn't, then at least she would have the relief of knowing that Macauley was still out there, safe.

"Wait!" she called, her feet thudding on the floor as she ran after Faolan, grabbing his shoulder to stop him. "Wait… show it tae me."

Faolan came to a halt, turning around with a smile one could have mistaken for pleasant. "Very well," he said. "Follow me."

They exchanged no more words as Faolan guided Cathleen through the castle. They walked by all the sleeping chambers of the upper floor before descending the stairs and heading to the back wing of the castle. There, he brought her to the very place she wished he wouldn't: the dungeons.

Cathleen froze in front of the iron gate that separated the steps to the basement from the rest of the area. Though only moments prior she had wanted to see if Macauley was there, now that she was confronted by the reality of his capture and imprisonment, her limbs could hardly move. The color drained from her face, leaving her pallid and drenched in cold sweat. She tried to swallow around the knot in her throat, but even that had her almost choking, her terror sinking its claws into her stomach and tearing her apart from the inside.

"What is it?" Faolan said. "I thought ye wished tae see yer present."

Cathleen only glared at him, unable to force any words out. What was there for her to say? She knew what she was about to encounter in that dungeon and she was quite certain Faolan had realized that she knew. It did nothing to diminish his glee, though. If anything, it pleased him more to know that she had come to the right conclusion, as it prolonged her terror.

What can I dae? What can I dae tae stop this?

There were no more plans, nothing she could do to fix this. All her hopes had hinged on the chance that Macauley would manage to escape Faolan's men, but with his capture, those hopes all faded, leaving nothing but despair in their stead.

When she didn't respond, Faolan yanked the door open and pushed her inside, forcing her to stumble over the first stair. With heavy, reluctant steps, she slowly reached the end of the staircase as Faolan followed closed behind, his hand still curled around her arm to guide her around. One look into the darkness of the dungeons had Cathleen's heart beating so fast she feared it would break through the cage of her ribs. What little light fell in through the small, narrow slits that served as windows near the ceiling wasn't enough for her to take a good look at the place or find Macauley's cell. It was only when Faolan guided her to the last one at the other end of the room that she saw him, beaten and bloody, laying on the floor.

He isnae movin'.

Before she knew it, Cathleen threw herself at Faolan, her hand colliding sharply with his cheek. His head snapped to the side with the force of the slap and for a brief moment, they were both perfectly still, like statues, both shocked by the sudden violence.

But then Faolan spat a glob of blood and saliva on the floor and turned to look at her once more, his gaze full of malice as his hand tightened around her arm like a vice, nails digging into the flesh. Cathleen hissed in pain, trying in vain to tug her arm out of his grip. He refused to let go, only immobilizing her even more as she struggled.

Soon, her back hit the wall and the breath was knocked out of her. Even through the layers of her dress, the stone was rough against her skin, surely leaving scratches behind, but Faolan didn't seem to care. Cathleen didn't care either as she fought against him, legs kicking out and hands trying to claw at him desperately—anything to make him let go; anything to take revenge for everything he had done to her and the people she loved.

She only stilled when Faolan dealt a slap of his own, the back of his hand striking her cheek hard enough to make her skull rattle. The ring he wore on his little finger caught on her lip, the metal cutting the delicate skin open, and the coppery taste of blood flooded her tongue, mixing with the salt of the tears she could no longer control.

"Calm down," Faolan growled. "Or ye'll join him in there."

"A better fate than bein' by yer side," Cathleen spat back without wasting a second. "I'd rather be in the dungeons than wedded tae ye."

"Ye should be thankin' me fer bringin' ye here," Faolan said, his voice falling to a low, dangerous whisper. "I could have simply killed him an' ye would have never seen him again."

Cathleen couldn't help but scoff. Though the fight had drained from her, it didn't mean that her anger had dissipated with it or that she would be grateful to Faolan for this.

"Ye only brought me here tae gloat," she pointed out. "Ye didnae dae it fer me or fer Macauley. Ye did it fer yerself. Ye did it so ye could see me in pain an' laugh. Ye did it so ye could get the satisfaction."

Faolan didn't even try to deny it. Why would he? Anything else would be an obvious lie and he had no reason to pretend to be someone he was not—not to Cathleen, at least. She knew just how cruel of a man he was and just how much pleasure it brought him to see her and Macauley defeated like this.

"Is he…" It seemed impossible for Cathleen to even utter that one word. She took a deep, shaky breath, her entire body trembling as she forced herself to speak. "Is he dead?"

"Nay," said Faolan. "Only unconscious."

The relief that coursed through Cathleen almost brought her to her knees. All that held her up was Faolan's grip on her, along with her grip on the wall. Macauley was alive, she repeated to herself. There was still hope.

But what hope is there if he's imprisoned here? How will he escape this place?

Cathleen had to be smart about this. If there was even a tiny chance that she could help him escape, then she would do anything in her power to bring that plan to fruition. Perhaps she could steal the keys to his cell and let him out. Perhaps she could bribe a guard or even find one who was still loyal to her father, to her family; someone who was as opposed to the change of regime as she was.

Her and Bonnie's enemies outnumbered their friends in the clan, it seemed, or perhaps their enemies had more power. Faolan had handpicked his men, making sure to place them in high-ranking positions so that they could control anyone who didn't bow to him, and that had left both sisters vulnerable.

But Bonnie wasn't there, nor was anyone else.

"Where is me sister? Where is Kian?" Cathleen demanded. With Macauley there, she couldn't help but think Faolan had captured her, too.

But Faolan didn't speak. His expression hardened as he looked at Cathleen and it didn't take her long to realize that even though he had gotten Macauley, Bonnie and Kian had escaped right out of his grasp.

Cathleen had to suppress a laugh. Not only was her sister safe but she had managed to thwart Faolan and his men, and Cathleen couldn't imagine the rage Faolan must have felt when he found out that they had only managed to capture Macauley. Suddenly, she wished she had been there, in his study, to see his reaction. Had he screamed at his men, she wondered? Had his face turned that deep shade of red like every other time when he was enraged?

Perhaps with Kian out there, there truly is hope. He wouldnae let anythin' happen tae Macauley.

Surely, Faolan knew that too, and he was preparing for it. Cathleen wouldn't be surprised if there was an attack on the castle soon, led by Kian and his men. Though it could be catastrophic to the clan, it was the only way Cathleen could see that would free them from Faolan's tyranny. She only hoped that the lives of the innocent would be preserved, even in battle.

"Give me some time with him," Cathleen said, more of a demand than a request. "Let me… let me talk tae him."

"Why would I dae that?" Faolan asked. "I didnae bring ye here so ye could talk."

"Nay. Ye brought me here so ye could revel in yer victory," Cathleen said. "An' ye've done that. So let me speak tae him now."

"Cathleen?"

The sound of her name came from within the cell, Macauley's voice thin and weak. Before Faolan could react, she pushed him away and rushed to the bars of Macauley's cell, falling to her knees as she reached through the gap with a desperate hand. Now that she could take a better look at him, she could see that his left eye was swollen shut, bruised and covered in blood from a gash over his brow. His bottom lip was just as swollen and his eyes were unfocused as he looked at her, a weak hand coming to rest over her own.

"Macauley, what have they done tae ye?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Are ye in pain?"

It was a silly question; of course, Macauley was in pain, but Cathleen didn't know what else to say with Faolan hovering over her, listening in and ready to grab her and pull her away at any moment. How could she reassure Macauley that everything would be all right? Even she didn't know if that was true.

"Nay," Macauley said, the word coming out in a breathless wheeze. "I'm fine, lass. Dinnae fash."

Behind her, Faolan laughed and Macauley raised his head as much as he could to glare at him. Slowly and with great effort, he pushed himself up to a sitting position, grunting as though he hardly had the strength to keep himself upright.

"Dinnae move," Cathleen said, but Macauley ignored her. In that moment, all he saw was Faolan.

"Have ye enjoyed yerself enough?" he asked. "Why didnae ye kill me?"

"Ach, I will," Faolan said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll have ye hanged. An' trust me, I will enjoy it very much."

It was Cathleen's turn to glare at Faolan, though he hardly seemed to care about her anger. He and Macauley were caught in a contest of will, neither of them willing to look away first. Turning back to Macauley, Cathleen let go of his hand to cup his cheek, guiding him to look at her once more.

"I'll dae anythin' tae get ye out o' here," she said softly, nodding more to reassure herself than anything else. "Anythin' it takes, dae ye hear?"

Once again, Faolan laughed, but Cathleen paid him no mind. He thought she had no power in that castle, that she was nothing more than a pawn, a means to an end. He was underestimating her and that could only work in her favor. Even if she promised Macauley he would help him escape right in front of him, Faolan would never believe she had a way to do it.

Macauley didn't respond. He only gave Cathleen a small, sad smile, one she was certain was meant to say he believed her, though the effect of it was lost in the doubt she saw in his eyes. It seemed that Macauley had just as much confidence in her plan as Faolan did.

What if he's right? I dinnae even have a proper plan.

But no, she couldn't allow herself to think of Macauley as doomed already. He was alive and that would have to be enough for her to trust in her ability to save him from Faolan and his rope. If she lost hope now, then Macauley was as good as dead.

"Enough o' this," Faolan said as he grabbed Cathleen and yanked her away from the cell. Despite his injuries and the weakness that came with being left in a cell for what must have been hours, at least, Macauley managed to drag himself closer to the door, his hands curling around the iron bars and shaking them with all his might.

"Let her go!" he shouted, but of course, Faolan didn't listen.

Cathleen did her best to fight him once more, struggling in his grip as he dragged her up the stairs. His fingers left an imprint behind on her flesh, an angry red mark that was certain to bruise, and they didn't relent no matter how much she screamed or kicked at him.

By the time they were up in the main part of the castle, Cathleen was out of breath from the struggle, though she still fought weakly and half-heartedly against him. Sweat covered her forehead and she reached up with a shaky hand to wipe it off as Faolan finally let her go, tossing her aside.

"Ye will see him hang," he told her, his face only inches away from hers. "Ye will sit by me side an' ye will watch as the life drains out o' him, an' ye will ken it was all because o' me."

With that, he was gone, making his way up the stairs to retreat, as usual, to his study. Cathleen watched him, her nails biting into her palms until he was gone from her sight. Then, she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down as much as she could. She couldn't afford to be weak now. She couldn't allow madness to take over.

She had to come up with a plan, and she had to do it fast.