Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“ T hat cannae happen.”

Cillian stood in front of his council, hands on his hips as he regarded them all. At first, he had been hopeful, thinking there would be no way his council would come between him and Enya. What did it matter to them which of the MacLeod sisters he would marry? The alliance would remain the same, and so there was no reason that this small—if significant—change should matter to them.

But they soon proved him wrong. The moment he asked them to sanction the marriage, there had been a chorus of disagreement, all of them refusing to even consider it. Now, after several minutes of arguing, he was staring them down, refusing to budge.

“Why?” he demanded. “It makes nae difference if I wed Thora or Enya.”

“The banns have been read,” one of the elders pointed out. “There can be nae change now. It is already too late.”

“But what does it matter if I wed Enya?” Cillian insisted. “Ye will have the same alliance. Naethin’ will change.”

“How would we look, sending the king a letter with one name first, and then sending another one saying that the bride in question has changed? What is done is done,” another elder said. “We willnae allow this. This meetin’ is over.”

With that, the man walked to the door and left the room, the rest of the elders following close behind. The only ones left there were Archibald and Duncan, but they were both silent, surely not knowing what to say.

Enya rushed into the room just as Cillian slammed his fist against the wall with a frustrated growl, splitting the skin on his knuckles. He pulled back with a hiss, shaking his hand in a vain attempt to get rid of the pain, and Enya walked to him, taking his hand in hers and running her fingers over the injury, smearing blood over his skin.

Turning to Archibald and Duncan, Cillian said, “Leave us, please. I will come find ye in a moment.”

Once they were out of the room, Enya felt the urge to heal him, but then immediately decided against it.

“It is best nae, fer Duncan has made a few comments about some people at the castle, including ye, healing very quickly. And he has joked about magic. I think it best he doesnae see yer scratches are gone, as he was in the room when ye hurt yerself,” she explained.

Cillian was rather surprised at what she had told him about Duncan and fully agreed. But he did not want to change the subject just yet. He still had many questions for her.

“Daes it hurt ye?” Cillian asked. “When ye dae this?”

Enya shrugged a shoulder. “I take some o’ the pain,” she said nonchalantly, but Cillian couldn’t help but think she was trying to diminish the pain she felt when she healed someone. “But it’s fine. I’m used tae it.”

“I dinnae want ye tae be in pain fer me,” Cillian said. “Even if it isnae much.”

“I’m used tae it,” Enya insisted, but it was not the kind of answer Cillian wanted to hear. He didn’t want her to be putting herself through all that pain and he realized that he didn’t even know if healing others put her in danger.

“Could it… hurt ye?” he asked, hesitant to hear the answer.

For a few moments, Enya was silent, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. “Only if I heal someone who is on the brink o’ death,” she said. “I could… I could die, maybe. It depends on how bad the injury is. Such is the balance of nature.”

Cillian’s blood ran cold in his veins. He knew he had been very close to death when Enya had healed him after the battle and even though she was alive and well, standing right by his side, he couldn’t help the nausea that gripped him at the thought that something could have happened to her.

“But that day, when I was hurt?—”

“It wasnae enough tae kill me,” Enya said. “I kent that.”

“Have ye ever come close?”

Enya nodded silently, swallowing hard as her gaze dropped to the floor. Cillian could tell in an instant it was a painful memory for her and he regretted asking, but a part of him wanted to know what had happened so he could prevent it from happening again.

“It was me maither,” she said, her voice so quiet Cillian could barely hear her. “She was wounded in a raid. I tried… I tried tae heal her, I truly did, but I was young an’ I didnae have full control o’ me powers. I couldnae dae it.”

Before Cillian could say anything, Enya pulled back from him, turning around as a hand came up to wipe at her cheeks. With a sigh, Cillian approached her once again, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pulling her into an embrace, an almost unbearable ache spreading over his chest. He simply held onto Enya, offering what comfort he could, even if it wasn’t much.

Soon thereafter, Enya took a deep, shaky breath and seemed to compose herself as she turned around in his arms to face him.

“They didnae allow it, did they?” she asked, already knowing the answer and even looking as though she had already accepted their fate.

Cillian shook his head. “Nay. Nay, they didnae.”

Nodding slowly, Enya pulled away from Cillian and Cillian let her, taking a few steps back himself. He wanted to fight this decision; he truly did. But how could he go against his entire council? How could he disregard everything they said? Going against the council meant going against the clan, and Cillian couldn’t do such a thing.

“I see,” said Enya, her voice choked and distant.

That was all she said before she fled the room, leaving the door open behind her. Cillian could hear her footsteps echo down the hallway, fast as she retreated from him, and he didn’t try to chase her.

How could he? What comfort could he offer? What promises?

He couldn’t promise her a thing. All he could do was hope for a miracle.

Tears welled in Enya’s eyes, pouring unbridled down her cheeks. Deep down, she had always feared the council would refuse the change, as if she and Cillian had been doomed from the start. Fearing it and experiencing it, though, were two entirely different things, and Enya’s heart shattered the moment Cillian revealed the council’s decision.

He wouldn’t go against them, she knew. He wouldn’t fight for them the way she wanted him to and there was nothing she could do to change that.

Would Thora refuse to marry him, she wondered? But what other choice did she have if everyone insisted that she had to? What could either of them do in the face of such resistance, when two councils and the king himself wanted this union?

Enya couldn’t live with such a burden, though. She couldn’t bring herself to attend the wedding or the feast or be around either of them at all, but removing herself forever from their lives would hurt just as much. Either way, no matter what she did, the pain would always be there, gnawing at her and eating her from the inside. There was no escape. There was no salvation.

“Enya.”

Enya came to a sudden halt just before she would collide with Duncan. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, her vision blurry with tears, but there was something in the tone of his voice that prevented her from moving, like the roar of a predator chasing its prey.

To say that Duncan had become strange in the past few days would be an understatement. From the very first moment Enya had met him, he had seemed like a strange man, but now he was wherever she went, as though he was constantly following her around the castle.

“Duncan, I didnae see ye,” she said, sniffling as she wiped the tears from her face. “Forgive me, I was goin’ tae me chambers?—”

“Are ye alright?” Duncan asked, interrupting her. “Did somethin’ happen?”

“Everythin’ is fine,” Enya said, simply because she couldn’t—nor did she want to—explain everything to Duncan in that moment. “Excuse me.”

As she spoke, she side-stepped him, eager to get to her chambers and close herself off from the rest of the world. As she continued down the hallway, though, she heard Duncan’s footsteps behind her, following her. But what truly unsettled her was the fact that he didn’t speak, and when she glanced over her shoulder at him, he had come too close, swiftly closing the distance between them.

Enya barely had the time to see the glint of a blade in his hand before he brought down the hilt of his knife against her temple. Within moments, the world went dark as Enya was plunged into unconsciousness, not a single sound escaping her lips.