Chapter 28

The word cottage could not begin to describe what Aaden saw when they reached the place. It was an estate, a large, charming building of stone that stood a few minutes' ride from the lake. As impressive as it was, though, with its steepled roofs and the large windows, it was also old, as though it had been standing there for many years, for the most part abandoned.

There were no signs of any renovations, at least none that Aaden could see. If this was the place Ruadh was supposed to be maintaining, then there was no doubt in his mind everything he had told Evander about needing to oversee the repairs was nothing but another lie.

The grass and the plants in the gardens were overgrown, drowning the stone paths that snaked through the grounds. Ivy climbed the walls, wild and untamed, and though the building itself was in good condition, the windows and the doors didn't have the same fate, projecting a decrepit appearance that gave the entire place an eerie, disconcerting feeling.

There were no guards there, though, at least none roaming outside the building. To anyone passing by, it just looked like an empty estate, long since abandoned to the mercy of time.

"Is this the right place?" Aaden asked as they came to a stop. "Are ye certain?"

"Och aye," said Evander. "Dae ye nae remember?"

Aaden shook his head. He couldn't say that he did. The only thing that made him accept Evander's certainty was the fact that he was so sure of it himself, and a vague feeling that he had been there before, as one feels when revisiting a place in a dream.

"Spread out," Laird Stewart told his men. "See if there are guards along the perimeter."

Immediately, his men dismounted their horses and scattered, approaching the estate on foot. For a while, the rest of them watched, their hands curled tightly around their weapons in case there were, in fact, guards there that they hadn't yet seen. It took them a while to inspect the area, but once they had searched every part of the outside grounds, one of the men motioned at them to approach.

Laird Stewart led their team of four to the estate and Aaden's heart leapt up to his throat as they approached. He was the one to push the door open, and then the four of them, followed by the laird's men, scattered throughout the place, searching room after room for any signs of life.

Aaden headed to the second floor, opening the first door he found and finding an empty library inside. It was that room which pulled up memories, a specific one: his mother, holding him in her lap as she read him a book. He couldn't tell if it was a real memory or something fabricated, something his mind made up now that he was present in the room.

Had he ever had such a pleasant childhood? Had there been a time before Ruadh knew of his real origin?

Shutting the door, Aaden moved to the next one, and then the next, finding every room empty. Just as he had begun to despair, he opened the last door at the end of the hallway and took in the sight before him.

It was a sparsely furnished room, large but holding nothing in its confines save for a bed and a decrepit dresser. It was dark, too, curtains drawn over all the windows except for one. On the bed, there was a woman, her golden hair greying at the temples, her face and arms mottled with bruises in shades of purple and fading green, her wrists tied to the headboard with a rope that cut cruelly into her skin.

Aaden stared in shock, mouth hanging open as he took in the scene. His heart, which had been beating like a drum up until that moment, now sat perfectly still in his chest.

He recognized the woman instantly, and so did she.

"Aaden."

Her voice was barely more than a croaked whisper that barely carried itself across the gap between them. It was so low that Aaden thought that perhaps he had simply imagined it just by looking at the tiny movement of her lips.

After a moment of hesitation, he rushed to her, his hands scrabbling to cut her free from her restraints. His fingers shook as he gripped his knife and sawed through the rope until he finally freed her, and for a moment, they only stared at each other in silence, tears gathering in his mother's eyes.

With a trembling breath, she surged forward and Aaden let her crash into his chest as he folded his arms around her. The last time they had seen each other, she had been the one holding him, towering over him and wrapping herself around his body as though she could shield him from Ruadh's wrath by sheer force of will. Ruadh had ripped him from her arms anyway, throwing him out of the castle along with his father.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, his mother sobbing as she clutched onto him, refusing to let go. Though it had been two decades since they had last seen each other, it felt as though not a single day had passed to Aaden, as though he was still that little boy.

When his mother pulled back, she did so only to grab his face and examine it closely. Aaden did the same to her, noting the fine lines around her eyes and in the span of her forehead which betrayed the years that had passed, though did nothing to obscure her identity from him.

"How… how did ye find me?" she asked, quickly glancing at the door over Aaden's shoulder. "It doesnae matter. We must leave. Ruadh will be back soon."

"He is here?" Aaden asked and he, too, looked behind him, but predictably, there was no one there.

"He was," his mother said as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand, only to collapse. Aaden barely managed to hold her upright, bringing her to sit back onto the bed as she steadied herself, cursing under her breath. "I've been on this bed fer too long. I can hardly stand."

"It's alright," Aaden reassured her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and stood, pulling her along with him. "I'll help ye. Come."

With Aaden's help, the two of them walked down the hallway and then reached the ground floor, where Laird Stewart, Cameron, and Evander had already congregated after their searches had proven futile. The moment Evander's gaze fell on his mother, he rushed to them and Aaden let go of her so the two of them could hug, Evander holding onto her tightly.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Evander repeated the words over and over, a quiet mantra that had his mother stroking his hair soothingly as she hushed him. Still, he seemed inconsolable. Aaden may have been used to Ruadh's cruelty, fully aware of it for years, but all this was new to Evander, who had never thought his father could ever do such a thing.

"It's alright. It's alright, a chuilein," his mother said, but Aaden didn't miss the way she glanced at him, concern clouding her gaze. Perhaps she was wondering if Evander knew, but there was no easy way for her to ask. "Come now. We must leave."

As she spoke, she pulled back from Evander, but he grabbed her arm to stop her. "Wait," he said. "Is it all true, then? Is it true that faither has been keepin' ye here?"

For a moment, his mother hesitated, but then she nodded, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her cheeks. "Aye, it is. I dinnae ken why he would dae such a thing, but he's been keepin' me here fer weeks now."

Any last bit of hope Evander was holding onto that none of this was true suddenly crumbled right in front of Aaden's eyes. He could see it in the way his expression fell right open and raw, lips trembling with the effort it took him to keep himself together.

When his mother spoke again, she did so in a careful, gentle tone. "Dae ye ken why?"

Evander nodded silently, his gaze falling to the ground. When he didn't respond, his mother cupped his cheek with her hand, prompting him to meet her eyes and silently urging him to tell her the truth.

"Faither was usin' ye tae force Aaden tae dae as he was told," said Evander, swallowing drily around the words. "He wanted him tae trick Laird Stewart's daughter intae marryin' him, but the only way he would go along with his plan was if he had a way tae force him."

Their mother made no sound. She hardly reacted to the news, and had it not been for the way her hands trembled and her gaze turned vacant for a moment, Aaden would have thought she hadn't even heard Evander. When she turned that gaze to him, it was full of sorrow and regret, and Aaden wanted nothing more than to comfort her, to tell her it was all fine now and that she didn't have to worry about him, but the words were stuck in his throat, along with his breath. Simply seeing her after all these years had rendered him speechless.

"We shall notify the men," said Laird Stewart, breaking the silence. He gestured at Cameron to follow him, and the man turned on his heel, ready to leave. "Dinnae take too long."

Aaden watched them as they left, heading out into the courtyard, before he turned his gaze to his mother once more. She seemed to have regained some of her strength, as she was now holding herself upright with little help from Evander. As they stood side by side like this, Aaden was struck by how much Evander looked like her, and he couldn't help but wonder if the same was true for him; if all this time, he had been carrying all these parts of her with him, his lineage showing clearly on his features.

"We will talk about this later," his mother said with a newfound determination. Perhaps she had managed to gather her strength now, convinced that as their mother, she had to take care of the two of them before it was too late. "Evander, yer faither will return soon. He always does. He was here this morn an' he will be back."

"Where is he?" Aaden asked. He hardly managed to get out the words before a scream echoed right outside the estate, anguished and desperate—a man's voice, one that had the hairs on the back of Aaden's neck standing up straight.

He and Evander both rushed out of the cottage to find Laird Stewart standing still, all the color drained from his face. Across from him stood Ruadh and three of his men, all of them prepared for battle.

And there, held firmly by Ruadh with a knife pressed to her throat, was Lilith, her eyes screwed shut in terror, her flesh dimpling under the weight of Ruadh's blade.