Chapter 28

Cathleen had spent the entire ceremony stealing glances at Macauley, wondering at first what it would be like if it had been him next to her instead of Faolan, before the impossible scenario became too much to bear. She couldn't think about it for too long if she wanted to keep her composure. The mere thought had a sob catching in her throat, threatening to spill out of her, and she didn't want to show such weakness in front of Faolan and his men.

It was only when they stepped outside the chapel that she let herself look at Macauley again. She wanted to find something to say, but no words would come out. What was there for her to share with him now? What words would make any of this better?

She was about to be bound to Faolan forever.

And then chaos erupted around her, everyone thrown into a frenzy of activity. At first, Cathleen didn't know what it was that had prompted such a panic in Faolan's eyes, but then she saw the guard who was splayed on the ground, blood pooling under his body from the wound in his chest. An arrow stood straight over him, lodged in his heart, and Cathleen's own heart almost came to a complete halt as she realized what was happening.

Bonnie! She is here.

Thundering footsteps echoed around them as Faolan's soldiers rushed from every side of the castle to protect their leader. Ronald was among them, a sword clutched tightly in his hand, though his eyes were wide with fear. He wasn't much of a fighter, Cathleen knew. He preferred to fight his battles from the safety of Faolan's study, where he could be in control from the shadows, but now he had no choice but to bring Faolan to safety at least.

In the chaos, Cathleen managed to slip away as everyone else tried to take cover. The arrows kept flying over their heads, most of them landing on their targets and sending Faolan's men to their deaths, but Cathleen had no fear for her own life. She knew Bonnie was unmatched in her skills with a bow and she trusted her sister to leave her unharmed, even as she wove through the crowd of soldiers.

"Macauley!" she shouted, running to him, only to find him kneeling on the ground as he tried to cut the ropes that bound his wrists. He had taken a knife from one of the fallen soldiers, it seemed, and he was clutching it in his hands, the blade cutting through the rope as much as it cut through his skin until his palms were soaked in blood. "Wait, wait, ye're hurtin' yerself."

Cathleen quickly fell to her knees next to him and grabbed the knife, cutting through the last of the rope. Even though they were in the middle of a battle, the relief that washed over her was unmatched, almost bringing her to tears once again. She couldn't help but let out a breathless laugh, pulling Macauley into a quick kiss, no thought of rejection ever entering her mind until it was too late and they were pulling apart.

What if he is still angry?

Cathleen didn't have much time to second-guess herself, though, before Macauley grabbed her and pulled her in for another kiss, as desperate and relieved as the first. She couldn't even bring herself to care about the handprint he left behind on her cheek, the blood tacky and warm on her skin.

"Find shelter," Macauley told Cathleen. "I will return tae ye as soon as I can."

He stood and offered her a hand, helping her up to her feet, before he bent down to grab the sword of another fallen soldier. Just as he was about to stand back up, though, one of Faolan's men approached in a frenzy, a battle cry tumbling from his lips as he swung his sword to stab Macauley in the back.

Cathleen's body moved before she even had the chance to process the situation. She jumped in front of Macauley, shoving the knife still in her hands deep in the other's stomach, grunting as she twisted it. The man looked at her, eyes wide in surprise and terror, and then glanced down at the wound in his abdomen as his sword fell from his hand, clattering onto the ground. Swiftly, Cathleen pulled the blade out of him and the man collapsed in front of her feet.

She had never killed anyone before. She had only trained in battle, but her hands had never been stained with blood.

"Cathleen."

Macauley's voice brought her back to reality and she looked up to see him standing right in front of her, his hands firm on her shoulders. He gave her a gentle shake and her gaze refocused, reminding her that she was in the middle of a battle. "Ye couldnae have done anythin' else. Ye couldnae. Ye did what ye had tae dae."

Cathleen nodded, though her voice was shaky as she spoke. "I did what I had tae dae."

"Aye," Macauley said, leaning close to press a kiss to her forehead. "I must go, but I will come find ye. Be safe. Promise me."

"I-I'll be safe," she said. She wasn't so concerned about her safety. She was more concerned about the fact that she could never take this back.

How did Bonnie dae it? How could she have taken all these lives, one after the other?

The answer, of course, was that she had no other choice, just like Macauley had said. She was doing what had to be done, and Cathleen had to do the same. And at least she could do it from a distance.

When she looked back up, Macauley was gone. Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, she tightened her grip on the knife and walked into the crowd of soldiers.

* * *

When the attack begun, Macauley was briefly under the impression that Bonnie had come alone, risking her life to save his and put an end to this marriage before it could even properly begin, but then a sea of men had poured into the castle grounds from the walls—familiar faces, all of them; Kian's soldiers, men Macauley knew and trusted.

He had made it back in time, and he had brought his forces with him.

There was no question in Macauley's mind regarding the victor. Kian's men were champions, rigorously trained and ruthless when they had to be. There was no hesitation in their movements. There was nothing but precision as they cut down Faolan's soldiers one after the other, the courtyard filling with the clanging of their swords, the land soaked in blood.

Among them was Kian, instantly recognizable by the mask he wore. Macauley rushed to him, weaving through the fight and dodging stray attacks meant for someone else. He was panting by the time he reached him and he was far from being in a good shape, exhausted and hungry as he was, but he'd be damned if he didn't finish this fight himself.

He was going to find Faolan and he was going to kill him.

"Ye made it," Macauley called over his shoulder as he covered Kian's back.

"O' course I did," said Kian. "What did ye think, that I'd leave ye here tae fend fer yerself?"

Macauley should have never doubted him, he thought. Kian was capable of bending the rules of the universe to help those he loved.

Upon spotting him, one of Faolan's men approached Macauley slowly, his movements cat-like as he stalked ever closer. He was a big man, though not bigger than Macauley himself, and he moved with the grace of someone who knew what he was doing, so Macauley braced himself, digging his heels into the ground. For a few moments, they did nothing but circle each other, weighing each other up to try and gauge who would win.

Macauley didn't have a single doubt.

The man threw himself at him first and Macauley parried his blow, pushing him back a step at the same time. It was nothing but a test, he knew, one that he had passed, and when the man attacked again, he did so with double the force, going for the kill.

Macauley dodged the blow, jumping to the side to avoid the man's blade. There was another attack almost instantly and he met the other's sword with his, grunting as he shoved him away once again. The answering move came soon after, the man feinting a blow from the right only to change directions at the last moment, and the only thing that saved Macauley were his fast reflexes, which got him out of the way.

Panting, Macauley began an attack of his own before the other could recover from his last move. He swung his blade, their swords meeting once, twice, then three times in an intricate dance as they stepped around each other, attacking and parrying. The entire time, Macauley looked for an opening, anything that would put an end to this before he was too tired to fight him off.

He had to be fast. The other man hadn't gone through the same hardships as he had recently. His injuries made it much harder for him to fight, his entire body aching from the abuse and the cold he had endured all night. At first, the adrenaline had kept him going, but the first rush of it was slowly fading from his body, taking with it some of his strength.

Macauley expected the next feint and it gave him the opening he was seeking. The man was suddenly wide open in his left side, and Macauley took advantage of it, plunging his sword right under his ribs.

The man was brought to a sudden stop, shocked by the injury as though he had fully expected to be the one who would rise victorious from the fight. Macauley swallowed hard as he looked at him and the blood that came out of his body, nothing more than a trickle while the blade was still inside him to staunch the bleeding.

It never gave him any satisfaction, killing another man. It was far from the first time he had taken a life, but he could never help it; he always thought of it as a waste.

With a kick to the man's hip, he dislodged him from his sword, and it was then that the blood began to pour in earnest, mixing with that of the other fallen soldiers. There were losses from both sides, Macauley knew, but the fight was slowly dying down, with only a few of Faolan's men still standing.

It had been a quick and brutal battle. Macauley was covered in sweat and blood, his breath coming in quick, harsh pants. It wasn't over yet, though. It couldn't be over until all of Faolan's men had been killed or detained.

And until Macauley had sunk his blade in Faolan himself.

Just as he turned around to look for him, though, he saw two things happening at once: Bonnie, standing tall up on the castle walls, aiming her bow at Faolan, and Faolan grabbing Cathleen to use her as a shield.

She didnae hide like I told her tae.

Blood covered Cathleen's dress and hands, more than it ever could had she not fought in that battle. She hadn't run; she had stayed there, fighting alongside Kian's forces, and now she had fallen in Faolan's claws, her life hanging from a thread.

"Enough o' this," Faolan growled, his voice echoing over the last few sounds of battle. It didn't bring the soldiers to a stop, as the fight had left them too frenzied to leave things unfinished, but it caught the attention of those closest to him—Macauley, Kian, and Bonnie. Next to him, a man grinned as though they had already won.

Macauley didn't miss how pristine their clothes were, how their hands lacked bloodstains. They had not fought. They had only watched as their men marched to their deaths.

"Ye will surrender or I will kill her," Faolan said, pressing his blade against Cathleen's throat until it cut her skin, drawing a few drops of blood. She was perfectly still against him, only shaking her head at Macauley as if asking him to ignore the threat and finish Faolan.

But how could Macauley ever do such a thing? He would rather die before he ever put Cathleen's life in danger.