Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

C aitlyn floated through the air, the wind tugging at her long locks, and making her dress cling to her legs. A serene feeling, she had never experienced before, seeped through her entire being as she let go fully, and allowed the air to carry her.

Below, she could see lands and fields of every shade of green. Large darker greens became clearer on her approach, and so close was she to the huge trees in the dense forest, she could nearly reach her hand out and touch the leaves on the uppermost branches.

Birds soared beside her, their wings still, flying with no effort. But the birds belonged up there, whereas, she did not. Strangely, that thought did not faze her, and continuing on, she saw her father's castle in the distance. Leaning her arms, she turned toward it, and continued to soar, until she was right above it.

She swooped down into the courtyard, and landed with ease. The castle appeared deserted, for there was not a soul about. A mighty roar came from deep inside the castle, and turning toward the sound, Caitlyn ran inside. The roar came again, echoing down eerily empty corridors.

Following the sound, she ran up the wide staircase and down the corridor, until she eventually came upon her own bedchamber door. Pushing it open and stepping inside, Caitlyn froze at the sight before her.

Laird Brendan MacTavish stood in the middle of her bedchamber. In front of him, in his grip, stood a woman whose head was bent forward, her long brown locks hiding her face. MacTavish suddenly threw his head back and let out a loud, evil laugh that again, echoed all around the room.

Slowly, he grabbed the woman by the hair, and lifted her head.

Caitlyn gasped, for the woman was herself. She caught the shining glint of metal, and with the flick of his wrist, the laird sliced her throat. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out, and when she looked down at her own dress, blood poured from her neck.

Caitlyn woke with a start, and immediately moaned. The pain on the side of her head was intense. She screwed her eyes to relieve it, but it made little difference. There was something strangely familiar about the cold stone floor she lay upon, but still feeling dizzy and disorientated, she forgot, for a moment, what had happened.

Until she went to move her hands.

Her eyes flew open, and looking down, she found herself bound in the exact same way she had been held for nearly two weeks. Her eyes flitted upwards and there it was, the same boarded window she had gazed at, day after day, night after night, pining to be on the other side of it. Praying for her freedom.

"Nay," she cried mournfully.

And then, everything flooded back into her mind. Her horse at the stream. The men running toward her. Her struggle to mount her mare, panicking. Being grabbed and held in place by huge, strong men, and then, MacTavish arriving, and that sickening blow to her temple. He had captured her again, and she had walked right into his hands.

What an idiot ye are. How could ye have let this happen tae yersel' again?

Pushing past the throbbing pain in her head, Caitlyn struggled to right herself. It took a great amount of effort, but eventually, she sat herself upright.

"And finally, she rises."

Caitlyn gasped and spun her head toward the voice she knew so well. There, sat on a chair before the empty hearth, was Laird Brendan MacTavish, an evil grin dancing on his lips as he flipped a dirk mischievously in his left hand.

In a panic, Caitlyn hurriedly pushed herself back, until the wall behind her meant she could go no further. It was pointless, of course. She had nowhere to go. It was just him and her. Edan was no longer there to protect her from the laird's advances. Of course, he wasn't. Edan wouldn't be stupid enough to get himself caught again. She was on her own now, and the fear of what was to come was so overwhelming that, try as she might, she could not stop her body trembling.

"Here we are again," Laird MacTavish bragged. "Lady Luck has shone down on me fer a second time. Though I will admit, yer escape cost me months o' planning. But now, I have ye again, and I will dae what I intended tae dae in the first place."

He furrowed his eyebrows and growled at her, his anger only intensifying her terror. What had she done? Why had she not waited and travelled with Kieran or her father? She had escaped this man's clutches once, having to murder a man to do so. Now, because of her foolishness, she had managed to get herself kidnapped again. This time, there would be no escape. She would die in that room.

"I will crush yer faither with yer death. Even if I have tae wait a little while longer tae take his lands, I will get great pleasure in kenning I was the one who caused his immeasurable mourning. But, o' course, nae yet."

He licked his lips, and Cailyn's heart suddenly jumped and thumped at a higher tempo.

"Ye owe me lass. In fact, I still have a scar on me hand where ye bit it." He lifted his hand to show her, but he was too far away for her to see. "Ye're going tae pay fer that. Ye're going tae pay with yer body, and I'm going tae take what I've wanted from the start."

"Please, just kill me now and be done with it," Caitlyn hissed in desperation.

"Och, that time will come, lass. But not until I am done with ye," he sniggered.

MacTavish pushed himself up from the chair, and moved towards her.

"Nay," Caitlyn pulled her legs into her body, as though such an action was in any wa, going to save her.

MacTavish paced about near her feet, still flipping the dirk in his hand. He was clearly enjoying the power he had over her, and was dragging it out for as long as he could.

"It is a shame yer lover isnae here. I would have liked him tae watch," he snarled. "It was clear he was in love with ye, even if he was betrothed tae yer sister. What sadness fer ye," he continued. He stopped pacing and turned towards her. "But I'm nae fool, lass."

He dropped to his haunches, his eyes slowly moving from her face, down her neck, lingering at the flesh at her bosoms. His lips parted a little and a gasp escaped from his mouth, his desire for her so very clear. His expression was making Caitlyn feel sick. Sick and terrified. But no matter what she felt, she could not stop what was about to happen. Maybe, if he came a little closer, she could grab that dirk and finish him before he had a chance to do anything.

Aye. That is the best plan. I'd sooner die than suffer what he is about tae dae tae me.

Shuffling closer, he grabbed her foot and yanked it so her leg was pulled straight. Caitlyn's heart thumped, she gasped for air as the fear threatened to take her over entirely.

"I have tae wonder if ye're as innocent now as ye were the last time ye were here. Or did that laird take ye fer himself?" MacTavish grinned. "I'll bet he did, didnae he? I'll bet he took ye over and over again."

He pulled her other leg straight and with no warning at all, he yanked both feet toward him at the same time. Caitlyn flew forward, and having no arms to save her, fell flat on her back. In a second, MacTavish had dropped to his knees, and as Caitlyn screamed at the top of her lungs, he grabbed at her skirts and tossed them further up her thighs. No matter how hard she pressed her legs together, MacTavish was stronger, and using both hands, he pulled them apart.

"Get off me, ye bastard," Caitlyn hissed.

Pushing her knees wide with his own, Caitlyn screamed out in terror, when suddenly, MacTavish stopped dead. He turned his head toward the door.

Even in her panic, Caitlyn strained her ears to hear. And sure enough, there were shuffling noises outside the door. A second later, the door burst open with such force, it smashed against the wall behind it.