Chapter 22

22

E rin's heart was a leaden weight in her chest, each thud resonating with the guilt that pummeled her insides. Through the partially open door of the healing room, she caught glimpses of Hayden's pale face; the normally roguish smile wiped clean by unconsciousness. The healer was known for her deft hands and gentle spirit, and she worked over him with her daughters, treating and dressing his wounds with hushed voices.

A low fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls where herbs hung in bunches, their supposed healing powers now put to the ultimate test. The air carried the scent of blood, antiseptic herbs, and the underlying musk of fear.

"Oh, Hayden..." Erin murmured, her voice catching on a sob. She pressed her forehead against the cool wood of the doorway, feeling utterly useless, a stranger barred from the intimacy of family grief. There was no space inside for her, no place amidst the tight-knit circle of his siblings who clustered around their fallen brother like protective cairn stones.

It was all her fault. Her presence had brought this disaster upon them. The clansmen's distrust of an outsider, the whispered accusations that led to steel being drawn, and now... now Hayden lay wounded, perhaps dying, because of her.

"Curse me," she whispered, her nails biting into her palms, drawing half-moon crescents that mirrored the turmoil slicing through her soul.

Outside, the sky darkened, and the wind howled, carrying with it the lament of the Highlands. It seemed even the land itself mourned for Hayden Black.

Magnus glanced at her, and she gave him a reassuring smile, which he did not return before dropping his gaze back to his brother.

"Ye shouldnae look at me like that," Erin spoke softly to the door, knowing Magnus would not hear. "I never meant harm to come to yer family."

"This is nay the time, nor place, Erin." Magnus replied coldly. "Wait in yer room."

"But-" she began to protest, but Magnus turned his broad shoulder to face away from her, leaning over Hayden to whisper orders of recovery in his ear.

"Can ye nay forgive me?"

"Later, lass." He shot a brief glance her way, but the damage was done. Her heart reached out to the man she'd been bound to out of necessity, a man as rugged and untamed as the very Highlands that surrounded him. A man whose heart seemed barricaded behind stone and thistle, yet whom she found herself now in love with.

"Forgive me, Magnus," she whispered.

Her gaze lingered on the door, yearning for a sign of forgiveness, a glimmer of understanding from the man she was beginning to realize she needed more than she cared to admit.

The stone corridor was cool against Erin's flushed cheek as she pressed herself to the wall beside the door to the healing room. Her heart thundered in her chest, a wild drumbeat that seemed to echo through the keep. She dared a glance through the narrow opening, seeking the two figures that consumed her thoughts.

A flurry of motion snapped Erin from her reverie as Scarlett burst from the room, nearly colliding with her in her haste. "Out of me way, Erin," the fiery-haired lass said, not unkindly but with an urgency that brooked no delay.

"Scarlett, how are they?" Erin's voice was desperate, her hands reaching for the other woman's arm.

"Cannae talk now," Scarlett replied, brushing past. Her skirts swished as she hurried down the corridor, leaving Erin grappling with the cold absence of connection.

Time and again, Scarlett rushed by, each time more hastily than the last, her footfalls a staccato rhythm against the stone. With every dismissal, Erin felt the divide between her and this family widen. She had not been asked to fetch, and she was more than capable of hunting down what was needed so Scarlett could remain beside her brother. Scarlett emerged with a bowl of bloodied rags, whisking them away without a pause. Erin was utterly invisible to everyone.

In the solitude of the hallway, Erin's resolve began to fray at the edges, the threads of her presence unravelling with each passing moment. She was an outsider, an interloper in a saga whose pages were written in scars and sealed with the blood of kinship. What place could she claim among such fierce loyalty and such storied history? She had been a fool to consider herself anything more than a connection to the O'Kane clan. She would make sure Magnus had the alliance he needed, but she would do so from her mother's arms. Magnus only needed a bride in name, and Erin's heart needed to be protected. She had allowed Magnus to enter her heart, but making him do the same had wounded him.

She had to love this family from afar to keep them safe. Erin took one last look into the room. One last look at Magnus clinging to Hayden's hand, his gaze never wavered from Hayden's pale face. The weight of leadership pressed down upon him, a mantle heavy with expectation and sacrifice. She glanced one last time at Hayden, though his lifeless form was not how she would like to remember him. She would see his bright eyes and charming smile again, she was sure.

Erin caught Scarlett's arm as she returned with her bowl empty. She had to tell her that she was leaving, or else she would only add to her worry. Leaving here was her only way of lessening their burden.

"Scarlett…"

"Please, Erin, let me be busy." Scarlett pushed past, entering the room to return to her brothers.

Erin nodded and resolved herself to leave a note explaining everything instead.

She packed nothing; her only goal was to unburden Magnus of her presence. Her belongings could be returned later, as she did want to know about Hayden's recovery. It would be good to talk with Magnus about her decision when he didn't have a coup to worry about.

She ran to the stables where her horse waited and grabbed the bridle.

"Can I help ye, me lady?" a young stable boy called to her. "The weather is turning bad, and ye willnae get the weather for a pleasant ride today."

"Please, help me saddle her up."

"Aye, me lady." The lad lifted the saddle and placed it on the horse's back. The lad set about his task with efficiency, securing the saddle and bridle with practiced ease. As he worked, he cast Erin a curious glance. "Where are ye ridin' to?"

"Ye willnae stop me," Erin insisted.

"Forgive me, I willnae stop ye. But I wish to ken."

"Nowhere ye need to ken," Erin replied, her tone sharper than intended. The lad looked up at her, confusion clear in his young eyes, and she softened. "Just ready the horse, lad."

"It's nay safe for a lass alone. Perhaps I can get ye a clansman to escort ye?"

"Nay, I must go alone." No clansman would willingly help her escape from the castle without Magnus' permission.

"Where are ye headin' at this hour? Nae the road to the river? Ye cannae use the bridge path, miss. It's nae safe," he warned, his brow furrowed in concern. "It's nae possible to get across the river yet."

Erin felt the blood drain from her face. The main road—the one she had intended to use—was impassable. Her plan crumbled, and panic flared within her chest. A sharp breath escaped her lips as she searched desperately for an alternative.

"I daenae mean to pry, me lady. Tis only yer safety I think about."

Erin paused, pressing her head into the horse's neck. The stable boy was right; she couldn't ride off into the evening with no plan, and she couldn't get home before nightfall with the bridge being out of use. She needed a plan. She could stop at the inn they had used on their way here, but then she remembered that was the wrong side of the bridge.

"Perhaps ye could just take a ride to the village and return before the rain?" The lad continued with his helpful tone.

The village! That wasn't a bad idea. She needed to leave McCormack castle today, she didn't need to arrive home today.

"Thank ye. I'll do that." Erin turned to the boy and held out her letter. "Can ye read?"

"Nay, miss. Naught use for it here, feeding the horses. Their needs are simple enough."

"Good." Erin nodded. "Wait for me to leave and then take this to Laird McCormack. Ye'll find him in the healin' room."

"Aye, miss. As soon as yer gone."

She mounted the mare, her hands gripping the reins as if they were her lifeline.

"Be safe, Mistress Erin," the stable boy called out, waving the letter to keep himself visible until she was far enough away to give her the head start she needed.

As she left the castle grounds, she stopped the horse long enough to glance back at the castle she had come to think of as her home. She would miss this place more than she had realized, but she was doing what needed to be done. She spurred the horse forward once more, leaving behind the flickering torchlight of the stable and plunging into the darkness beyond. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the secrets of the night and the silent promise of a destination known only to her.