Chapter 1

MacEwan Castle. One year later.

The castle was just as Aaden remembered it, though it had been very long since he had last stepped foot on MacEwan land. It towered over the hill, stretching up to a grey sky, a colossal structure of stone that was as majestic as it was intimidating. Like all castles, it did not only speak of wealth; it also spoke of power.

When he reached the castle gates, Aaden handed the paper he had been clutching in his hand all the way there to one of the guards, who proceeded to have the door opened for him. Riding inside, the few memories Aaden had of the place rushed back to him. There was that oak he had climbed as a child, falling from the lowest branches and scraping his knees. There were the stables where he had first learned to care for his horse, and the kitchens where the maids would give him apples and sweets in secret.

He wondered how many of those maids still worked there. He wondered if any of them would remember him now that he was grown, now that his face was covered by a short beard and he would no longer be looking up at them with wide, mischievous eyes.

Despite everything, Aaden had missed the place. He only wished he could have returned under different circumstances.

The invitation he had handed to the guard outside had come as a surprise. He never expected to return to this place, given that his uncle didn't want to even look at him. He knew there was only one reason why he would ever call Aaden there; it meant he wanted something from him and whatever that was, it couldn't possibly be good.

After jumping off his horse and passing the reins to the stable boy, another servant came to fetch him. Aaden followed the young man inside and soon found that even all those years later, he didn't need a guide. He remembered where everything was, the details slowly coming back to him.

Still, he doubted his uncle would allow him to roam freely around the castle. If anything, Aaden was surprised that no guard was following him, but then again, there was no real danger for Ruadh. His uncle was the laird of the clan and as long as Aaden was in there alone, he was powerless, even with all the weapons he carried around his waist.

Weapons, he noted, that no one had taken from him.

They came to a halt in front of a large door that Aaden identified as leading to Ruadh's study. The servant announced him, and Aaden walked in to see his uncle there, sitting behind his grand desk, surrounded by all his riches: colorful tapestries, thick rugs, heavy, dark furniture that had a presence even more imposing than the man's own.

Naturally, Ruadh had gotten older since Aaden had last seen him, but the change was startling to Aaden. He must have been in his early sixties, his face lined by the passage of time, his stature shorter than Aaden remembered—though that was perhaps because Aaden had been a child last time they had been in the same room. Even so, his eyes were just as blue and the black of his hair persisted even at his age, the only traces of grey appearing at his temples.

There was no warmth in his greeting when he acknowledged Aaden.

"Sit," Ruadh said, gesturing towards the chair by his desk, but Aaden preferred to stand. When he didn't obey, Ruadh simply shrugged. "As ye wish."

"Why did ye call me here?" Aaden asked. He had no desire to pretend there was any love lost between them. Ruadh hated him and no matter what Aaden said, no matter how politely he behaved, the man would never change his mind. "Why now, after all these years in exile?"

For a few moments, Ruadh was silent, simply observing Aaden as if seeing him for the first time.

"The last time I saw ye, ye were only a bairn," he said instead of answering the question. "It truly has been a long time."

"The last time I saw ye, ye were a coward who sent me an' me faither tae exile," said Aaden, teeth gritting together.

There was nothing else Ruadh could do to him and so Aaden didn't feel a need to hold back his venom. The man deserved much more than that, but Aaden would have to be satisfied with the little he could get now that he had finally confronted the man after so many years.

His scathing words earned him a glare, but nothing more than that. Ruadh was calculating, chilling in his cruelty. He would not lose his temper because of a mere comment, but he would make sure to retaliate sooner or later.

"Ye ken very well why I had tae send ye tae exile," he said."

"There were other ways," Aaden insisted. "Ye didnae have tae send me faither away from his home. Ye didnae have tae send me away from me maither."

"What would ye have me dae? Allow her bastard son tae live under the same roof as me own son?" Ruadh asked. There was an edge to his voice now, his cruelty seeping through the cracks. He stood too, the two of them glaring at each other over the desk. "Ye should be glad I didnae kill ye an' me traitor o' a braither."

"He was as good as dead an' ye ken that," Aaden said. "Ye ken he never recovered from what ye did tae him.

Ruadh's eyes narrowed as he looked at Aaden. He circled his desk and came to stand in front of him, leaving nothing but a few scant inches between them. "Yer faither tried tae steal me wife from me. Yer faither was a traitor tae his own braither. An' yer maither…, yer maither spread her legs fer him, did she nae? An' here ye are."

Aaden could have killed his uncle that very moment. Perhaps he should have swung at him least, punching him for speaking about his mother like that, but that would have only caused him more trouble. He was already in plenty of trouble as it was, since Ruadh had called him there.

"Where is she?" he asked instead. "I wish tae see her."

"Dinnae forget this, Aaden," Ruadh said as he headed back to his chair, sinking in its plush leather. "Janice is me wife an' me son's maither. She is naething but an aunt tae ye. Ye will dae well tae forget she ever birthed ye."

"Ye could have let her marry me faither," Aaden insisted. "Ye could have let them be happy. Ye kent they loved each other but ye still married her."

"I willnae entertain this any longer," Ruadh said, effectively putting an end to the conversation. Aaden knew there was nothing to say to provoke him into discussing it further.

"Fine," Aaden spat. "Then perhaps ye wish tae tell me why ye invited me here. Surely, it wasnae so ye could see me."

That drew a laugh out of Ruadh, a short, humorless sound. "It wasnae an invitation. It was an order. With me brother gone, ye must repay his debt."

"There is nae debt tae repay," Aaden said. "Any debt he owed ye, he paid by spendin' all his life in grief."

Another laugh, this even colder than the last. "Ye're as insolent as ever, I see. But that's alright. I will teach ye what it means tae have honor. Listen carefully. Ye are tae wed Lilith Stewart, the first-born daughter o' Laird Stewart. Evander wishes tae marry his youngest, but her faither willnae wed her if Lilith isnae wed first."

Aaden could hardly believe his ears. That was why Ruadh had called him there? What could have possibly possessed him and make him think he would do such a thing for him.

"Why should I care if yer son wishes tae marry this lass?" he asked. "An' why dae ye need me? I'm sure the first-born o' Laird Stewart will have many suitors."

"Och aye," Ruadh said. "They both dae. The young one, Freya, she wishes tae wed Evander. But Lilith doesnae want any o' her suitors. She is said tae be… difficult."

Aaden couldn't wrap his head around any of this. The most he could do was stand there in disbelief, mouth hanging slightly open as he tried to figure out what else Ruadh had planned for him. Surely, a marriage wasn't the only thing he had in mind, especially to the first-born daughter of a laird.

"Why doesnae Evander wed Lilith?" he asked. "Surely, that is the wisest option fer him. Why would ye want me tae be the laird o' the Stewart Clan when ye could make him?"

"As I said, Lilith is difficult," Ruadh repeated. "Evander wants a softer lass. An' if ye think ye will have any real power, I'd suggest ye reconsider it. Perhaps ye would become the laird once her faither dies, but ye will dae as I say."

That, of course, was only natural, Aaden thought. Ruadh would never relinquish the power he could have, even if he didn't marry his own son to the heir. He was a cunning man. He would do anything to find a way to exert control over another clan, so Aaden was hardly surprised he had planned something like this. "An' how will ye enforce that? Why should I follow yer orders?"

For a moment, Ruadh hesitated. Then, he drew a deep breath and raised a hand to comb it through his hair. "Because I have yer maither," he said. "An' if ye dinnae obey me, I will kill her."

He has her imprisoned.

"Where is me maither?" Aaden said, taking a few steps towards the desk before going still once more. "Where are ye keepin' her?"

"In a place only I ken," Ruadh said calmly. "An' ye will never find her."

Rage coursed through Aaden's veins, his face turning an ugly shade of red. He was trembling from head to toe, fists clenched tightly by his sides as he glared at Ruadh, the anger having no place to go. What could he do? He couldn't kill the man and get out of there alive. He even doubted he could get as far as killing him. Even though there had been no guards outside his door when Aaden had first walked in, that didn't mean there were no guards outside now, waiting for their laird to give the word. His uncle was no fool. He knew Aaden would be enraged by this and he had certainly made sure to have protection nearby.

"Why are ye doin' this?" Aaden asked, his voice barely a whisper. "What will ye gain from this?"

"Gold, o' course," Ruadh said. "I will receive the dowry fer both weddings. An' then, with time, power. Imagine it, me son an' me nephew married tae the two Stewart lasses. It's an alliance that will never break. An' dinnae act as though ye will receive naething out o' this. Ye will be a laird one day. In name only, perhaps, but ye'll still live a nice, comfortable life. An' ye'll have a bonnie wife. They say Lilith Stewart is a very bonnie lass. She's certainly more than a bastard like ye deserves, so ye should be grateful I am givin' her tae ye."

Before Aaden could say anything else, Evander entered the room. Though it had been years since they had last seen each other, Aaden recognized him immediately, and by the way the other paused by the door, looking at him with clear surprise etched on his face, he recognized him, too.

They looked alike, the two of them. They both shared their mother's golden hair, the bow of her lips, the shape of her eyes. They even shared some resemblance through their fathers, inheriting their common feature: a strong, straight nose.

"Cousin," Evander said, lips stretching into an easy smile. "When did ye come tae visit?"

Cousin.

Naturally, Read hadn't told Evander about their true relation. Evander still thought they were only cousins, not half-brothers, and as much as Aaden wanted him to know the truth, he would keep Ruadh's secret for the sake of their mother.

"Just now," Ruadh said before Aaden could respond. "I was tellin' him about Lilith an' Freya. Aaden has agreed tae wed Lilith."

Aaden didn't remember ever making such a promise, but what other choice did he have? Ruadh had his mother. He could kill her at any moment and then Aaden would have lost the only real family he had left. He couldn't let him touch her. He couldn't let him take her life, too, after everything else he had taken from her.

"I saw Freya a few months ago when I went tae a clan meetin' at Stewart Castle," Evander said, coming to stand next to Aaden. "I already ken she wants me. She tried everythin' in her power tae get me attention an'… well, she did. I would have kissed her, too, had it nae been fer her meddlin' sister. She kept trailin' after Freya, remindin' her tae be proper. But that's alright. I have been writin' tae her ever since an' I've done me best tae make her fall fer me."

"I'm sure it wasnae difficult fer ye," said Ruadh. "These lasses are so easily swayed by sweet words."

"They truly are," Evander said, and both of them laughed, the sound filling the large room. They had a similar laugh, deep and booming, like a solid thing. "All I had tae dae was promise her I would love her forever an' she was ready tae believe anythin' I told her."

Aaden looked at the two of them with disgust as he took a few steps back, putting some space between him and his brother. He didn't want to be there. Had it not been for his mother, he would have never even come.

"Lilith is very bonnie, ye ken," Evander said, echoing his father's prior words. "But ye should be careful. They call her the Snow Lass because she's so frigid. Nae one has managed tae get tae that cold heart o' hers."

"Ye will both visit Stewart Castle soon," Ruadh said, interrupting his son. "Laird Stewart is acceptin' the suitors, so Aaden, ye can go an' charm Lilith while Evander speaks with the laird about Freya's hand. An' ye are nae tae fail. It will be most beneficial tae all o' us if Lilith chooses ye."

Aaden's first instinct was to refuse, but he had no choice. There was no point in arguing now, not when both he and Ruadh knew he would do as he was told. His uncle had him under his control now. There was nothing Aaden could do as long as he kept threatening his mother.

Looking between the two men, Aaden couldn't help but wonder how everything had come to this. He, who never wanted to marry, was now being forced into this marriage. The only good thing about it all was that there would be no love involved. That gave him some peace of mind, at least.

Besides, he was Aaden MacEwan, the womanizer. How difficult could it be to seduce this girl?