Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

E van felt the bruises forming on his face. His left eye was swollen shut and blood was caked all over his nose and chin, painting the front of his shirt a red so deep it was almost black. His arms ached after being bound behind his back for so long and the skin on his wrists was bloody and torn, the rope leaving behind its mark.

But Ruthven had made a mistake—he had left his legs unbound.

Despite the pain, despite the fact that the world was still spinning, Evan stood, determined to get out of there and reach Bonnie before Ruthven could force her into this marriage. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he jumped and fell onto the floor, bracing for the impact just as the chair shattered underneath him, pieces of wood and splinters flying everywhere around him. Swiftly, he brought the rope under his legs and pulled his hands to the front, gnawing on the knots to untie them as quickly as he could.

He had barely managed to loosen up one of the knots when the door banged open and a guard rushed in, surely having heard the commotion. Evan cursed under his breath for not being quicker, tugging at the rope once, twice, three times.

On the fourth, the knot gave way.

Evan couldn't help the grin that spread over his lips, one that seemed to unsettled the guard, who held his sword in his hand but made no move to approach. He was a young man—barely more than a boy, really. Perhaps Ruthven thought it unnecessary to place more protection around Evan, so certain that his bonds and the damage he had inflicted on him would be enough to keep him in that room.

He had thought wrong.

Evan lunged at the guard, who quickly swung his sword, trying to defend himself. He was clumsy, though, his body not yet used to fighting a real foe with a real sword—one with a wickedly sharp blade, which could maim him as much as it could maim Evan. With a hit to the man's forearm, Evan forced his fist to relax around the hilt and with a second hit, to fall completely from his hand, but Evan didn't reach for it immediately.

He didn't have the heart to kill him. Instead, while the guard was still dazed by the encounter, he punched him once, hard, right in the face and knocked him out cold.

After dragging him into the room, Evan grabbed the sword and left, locking the door behind him. Now it was only a matter of getting to Bonnie.

He hadn't yet figured out how he would get to her. He didn't even know where she was being kept or how many guards he would encounter on his way.

I'll try her old chambers first.

It was the only clue he had, and so it was the one he would follow. As he exited the dungeons, he was met with the silence and the darkness of the night, and relief washed through him as he snuck around the grounds, keeping to the shadows. Surely, Ruthven would have tightened his security, but many would already be asleep. There would be no maids and servants to stop him on his way—only guards, whom he would have to avoid or kill.

With light footsteps, Evan made his way through the castle, staying close to the walls and the shadows. When he heard footsteps approach, he ducked into the nearest alcove, concealing himself until the guards were gone and only then continued his journey to Bonnie's chambers. It took him three times as long as it should have, but by the time he peered around the corner into the corridor where Bonnie's old chambers were, he hadn't met a single guard.

But now he saw two standing outside her door. It was as good a sign as it was a bad one. On the one hand, it meant that Bonnie was there. On the other, Evan would have to kill them before they could sound the alarm.

Approaching them stealthily was not an option. Either way, they would see him coming, and so Evan decided on speed instead, running towards them and engaging them in battle before they could even shout for help. The first one raised his sword, bringing it down just as Evan took the opportunity to slide his blade through his stomach before pirouetting away, avoiding the guard's blow by the breadth of a hair. It was a risky move, one that could have cost him his life, but it left him with only one more man to dispatch.

The second was not as easy. Their swords met with a clang, a sound that reverberated throughout the entire hallway. It was that which scared Evan the most—if anyone heard them, the guards would come running and he would lose any chance he had to save Bonnie. The guard parried another blow, moving fast, but Evan abandoned his double grip in favor of delivering a punch to the man's stomach, knocking the air out of him.

It had the intended effect; the guard stumbled back, faltering for just a moment, but it was all Evan needed to pierce him with his sword, quickly silencing him.

He took a moment to listen for any approaching footsteps, but there were none. Then, he grabbed the keys that the guard had hanged on his belt and opened the door to reveal Bonnie, standing right behind it as if she was expecting him.

She didn't heed the blood that now covered Evan from head to toe. She only ran to him, falling into his arms, and Evan embraced her tightly, her presence the only thing that calmed his racing heart.

She's alive an' well. We can still leave this place.

When Bonnie pulled back, she raised a trembling hand as if to touch Evan's cheek, but then stopped short, her palm hovering just over his face. "What did he dae tae ye?" she whispered as tears streamed down her cheeks, the horror in her eyes showing him the damage Ruthven had done better than even a looking-glass.

"I'm alright," he assured her, because he was. As long as he breathed, he was fine. Those were bruises that would heal. "But we must leave. We cannae stay here any longer."

Bonnie nodded and made to leave, but Evan stopped her, going against his own words in favor of holding onto her for one more brief moment. He kissed her, soft and tender, and the kiss tasted of blood and salt.

"I willnae let anyone hurt ye," he said. "I promise."

Even if he had to give his own life, Bonnie would make it out of there.

Bonnie could hardly bear to look at Evan without her heart shattering again and again. She couldn't imagine the pain he must have been in after Ruthven had hurt him so viciously. And yet there he was, still fighting to get her out of the castle, doing anything in his power to keep her safe.

His hand was a vice around hers as he pulled her along through the hallways. Every sound, no matter how small, sent a new wave of dread through Bonnie and she looked around her in terror, trying to spot a threat that never came.

It was only when they were nearing the kitchens that Evan stopped and pulled her into a small alcove, clamping a hand over her mouth as the two of them were pressed against each other. She didn't know what it was that had alarmed him so greatly until she heard heavy footsteps and her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to push down her fear.

They will hear me. They will ken we are here.

But then no one came to find them. The footsteps faded away as the guards went the other way and Bonnie slumped against Evan, her legs barely holding her.

"We're alright," Evan assured her in a whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I promised ye, did I nae? I promised ye I would keep ye safe."

Once again, he tugged her along, out of the alcove and towards the back of the castle, where she could only assume there was an exit that was not as heavily guarded as the front gates. Then again, wouldn't Ruthven place more guards that night around the castle to ensure neither she nor Evan escaped? Or would he think it was impossible?

Evan's footsteps quickened as they got closer and closer to their freedom. But then, just as they rounded one more corner, Evan came to an abrupt stop, Bonnie slamming into him in her hurry.

In front of them stood Ruthven with a small group of his men, who all drew their swords upon seeing Evan, pushing Ruthven behind the protective wall they formed for their laird. Bonnie had to choke back a sob. They had been caught. Evan was as good as dead, and she wished it was the same for her, knowing the fate that awaited her.

"Will ye fight all me men?" Ruthven asked with a cruel laugh.

"If I must," said Evan, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

"Yer both foolish," Ruthven said. "I see now . . . I cannae even wait until the morrow. Well, I suppose it doesnae matter. We will wake the priest an' he shall wed us tonight, Miss MacLaren. Since I cannae trust yer word, I will take what I want by force."

The first line of solders advanced towards them, eager to rid themselves of Evan's threat. They had only taken a few steps, though, before a bell rang throughout the entire castle, loud and jarring, the kind of bell that signaled an attack to everyone who was there to hear it.

Evan laughed, the sound sweet and clear over the sudden chaos that erupted around them. Outside, Bonnie heard the first sounds of battle—men screaming orders, others screaming in pain, the gates obliterated under the force of an unstoppable army.

"It seems I'm nae alone," Evan said.

Just behind Ruthven, men poured into the castle through the main doors. Suddenly, his men's job wasn't to protect him from Evan, but rather to protect him from the hordes of soldiers who had broken in through their defenses and were now heading for their leader. In the chaos of the battle, some of them pulled Ruthven away to protect him while others scattered, trying to defend their castle from within.

And Bonnie was in the middle of it all, not knowing what to do.

"Evan, what?—"

She didn't finish her sentence, stopping dead in her tracks when she turned to look at Evan and found that he was not there. In the few moments of indecision, during which she had remained there, frozen, the battle had pulled Evan away from her. Bonnie saw him in the distance, blood and sweat dripping off his forehead as he fought one of Ruthven's men. He seemed not only exhausted, but distracted as well as he looked around as though in search of something—or someone. It was only when his gaze fell on Bonnie through the thrashing crowd that he regained his focus, gaining a new determination as he struck his opponent down and began to make his way towards her.

He only made it a few steps before another soldier stepped in his way, stopping him. Bonnie would never be reunited with him like this, she realized, not if she didn't try to reach him, too.

Around her, the floor was covered in bodies, the stench of spilled blood thick in the air. Once again, her stomach churned at the thought of all this violence, all this senseless death. So many lives had been lost, all because of one man's greed.

Bonnie refused to be one of those dead bodies. Grabbing the first sword she found discarded on the floor, she decided to reach Evan in the middle, no matter what it took. The sword was a solid weight in her hands, but lighter than the ones her tutors had used to train her, and Bonnie wielded it with confidence, even if it wasn't her weapon of choice.

There were no bows around. The sword would have to do.

The first man to attack her was one Bonnie had never seen before—a young guard who seemed built for battle. Bonnie tried to parry the first blow, but when their swords clashed, she couldn't hold him back, her strength no match for his. His blade inched closer and closer, threatening to slice her throat.

She should have seen it coming. She should have relied on her speed instead.

"Ye fool!" another man called and this time, it was a guard Bonnie recognized—one of those who had dragged her to her chambers. "Ye cannae kill her!"

Both Bonnie and her opponent froze. That was right, she thought. No one could kill her unless Ruthven gave the order, and Ruthven was too busy defending himself and his castle. Even if he wanted her dead now, his men didn't know it.

Grinning up at the man, Bonnie shoved his sword away from her but before she could run away, he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"I cannae kill ye, but I can stop ye," he said, his voice a malicious growl in her ear. "Our laird doesnae need all o' ye, does he? Only the parts that will make him an heir."

Rage coursed like fire through Bonnie. She had had enough of people treating her like an object, like nothing more than a means to an end, and any inhibitions she had about taking another life vanished in an instant. With a cry of rage, she put all the force she could muster behind a kick to the man's knee, knocking him off-balance. He collapsed on the floor with a pained moan, and Bonnie hesitated for only a brief moment before she sliced through his stomach with her blade, silencing him forever.

Afterwards, watching him, she didn't tremble. She wasn't even sickened by the sight.

But then, before she could try to find Evan again, another blade flew just by her head, and the only thing that saved her were her quick reflexes as she jumped back from its reach—and right into a wall.

She was cornered; there was no way out for her other than fighting.

"Well . . . I never thought ye could kill one o' me men."

Ruthven . . . so he will kill me himself.

Bonnie turned to face him; sword raised in defense. He, too, was now covered in blood, though none of it seemed to belong to him. He didn't look injured. If anything, the battle had given him a new glint in his eyes, as excited as it was mad.

"Mistake after mistake," Ruthven said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Ye could have had a good life with me, Miss MacLaren. I would have treated ye well."

Bonnie couldn't help but laugh, the sound bitter and dripping venom. "A good life? While ye worked with Baliol tae bring death an' misery tae the Highlands? How could I be glad when everyone around me suffers? How could I stand by yer side as yer wife with the ken that yer responsible fer all this pain?"

"All the gowns an' the gold would have silenced ye," said Ruthven. "Dinnae pretend yer any better than this. Dae ye give yer gold, yer books, yer bonnie things tae the poor o' yer clan? Nay. Ye sit in yer castle an' enjoy yer wealth an' yer balls. It is nae different from what I dae."

Disgust welled up in Bonnie at the suggestion that she was anything like Ruthven. She would rather give all her wealth away than ever become the monster he was. "Me people prosper," she said. "An' so dae our allies, because we work together. Because we dinnae conspire with the Sassenachs."

"A noble dream," said Ruthven with a cruel laugh. "But a dream nonetheless."

As he spoke, he walked closer to Bonnie, preparing to strike. Could she fight him, Bonnie wondered? Could she at least flee from him if she couldn't kill him? That blade came closer and closer as she assumed a defensive stance. If nothing else, she would try to make her death a quick one.

"Touch her an' ye die."

Evan's sword was suddenly between her and Ruthven, a protective barrier that would strike him down if he dared harm her. A trembling exhale left Bonnie's lips and she glanced between him and Ruthven, heart threatening to jump right out of her throat.

Evan was breathing heavily, chest heaving with every drag of air. One of his eyes was swollen shut and under all the blood, Bonnie saw that bruises had already formed on his face from the beating he had taken.

He was in no position to fight Ruthven. He was in no position to fight anyone and yet he still persisted, throwing himself in the midst of the battle to save his men—to save Bonnie.

Ruthven growled like an angered beast as he swung his sword towards Evan, blades clanging wildly as they began to fight in earnest. Bonnie stood, frozen, watching as they danced around each other, each man taking every opportunity he found to attack. Ruthven raised his sword in the air and brought it down towards Evan's shoulder, a blow Evan parried at the last minute, shoving Ruthven back with all his strength. In retaliation, he aimed for Ruthven's stomach, dragging the sharp edge of his blade through the air right in front of him, missing by a mere inch as Ruthven quickly leaned back to avoid him.

Back and forth they exchanged blows, pushing each other away before the desire to destroy the other brought them back together. Among the screams of the wounded and those still fighting, their cries were piercing in Bonnie's ears, the two of them like wild animals whose only goal was to taste blood. Their blades met again and again in deafening clashes. The very walls of the castle seem to tremble with their feral fighting.

And then Bonnie watched in horror as Ruthven's boot collided with Evan's chest in a blow so hard that he flew to the ground, back hitting the solid stone with a thud. Immediately, he raised his sword but didn't have time to stand before Ruthven loomed over him, ready to plunge his blade in his heart.

"Evan!"

His name tore through Bonnie's throat in the form of a desperate sob as she fell to her knees. Grief swallowed her whole as their eyes met for one last time, the seconds before his death stretching into an eternity.

Another war cry rang out in the hall, drowning out everything else. Before Ruthven could deliver the final blow, Alaric snuck up behind him and struck him in the back, his sword piercing fully through him. Ruthven's eyes widened in shock. He looked down at the blade sticking out of his chest, and the last thing Bonnie heard from him was a quiet gasp before the life bled out of him.

Tossing him aside, Alaric knelt next to Evan, his hands frantically hovering over him even as Evan assured him, he was all right. Bonnie joined them, kneeling at his other side and pulling Evan close the moment he pushed himself upright, clutching onto him for dear life.

"I'm alright," he assured them both, one arm wrapping around her as the other found his brother. "I'm alright. I'm nae hurt."

"I thought . . . I thought ye were dead," Bonnie said. She couldn't bring herself to speak those words any louder than a whisper. "I thought I'd lost ye."

With a small smirk, Evan pulled back, eyes crinkling with mirth as he said, "Me? I'm nae goin' anywhere, lass."

Bonnie made a sound that was half a laugh and half a sob. "Ye are right. I'm nae lettin' ye."