Chapter 25

E ven here, far from the outer walls, Anna could hear the commotion. She could hear the Mackintosh warriors who'd come here. For her.

You are alone , the MacDonalds had told her. Nobody is coming for you .

But now she realized that wasn't true. She wasn't alone. Her friends had come for her. It was an exhilarating thought but it was obliterated by an even brighter one. If the Mackintosh were here, it could mean only one thing.

Emeric was alive.

Anna sent a prayer of thanks to any god, demi-god or deity that might be listening. Suddenly, she could breathe again. Suddenly, there was light in the world. Suddenly, there was hope.

Although, considering her present circumstances, it was a slim hope.

Her upper arms were hurting from where the two MacDonald guardsmen gripped them too tightly. They'd obviously learned their lesson as she'd already tried to escape twice on the way down here. One of the guards sported a split lip, the other a swelling around the eye that would turn black in the next few hours, a testament to how hard she'd fought to break free.

But she'd failed.

As she'd broken free of her guards, Maria had merely flicked her wrist again, and Anna had gone crashing into the wall, insensate. After that, she barely had the strength left to fight.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded. She'd asked this question several times already and she got the same answer as she had then: stony silence.

Laird Alexander and Lady Maria strode ahead of them, completely unperturbed both by Anna's escape attempts and the Mackintosh warriors at their gates. Bastards. She'd teach them the error of that thinking before this was done.

They reached the end of the passage and came to a large, thick, door. Laird Alexander pulled it open and the guards marched Anna through. She found herself stepping into a room that was flooded with light from the many windows along its sides. No arrow-slits this time, but large windows filled with stained glass depicting scenes from the Bible. The MacDonald chapel.

At the far end of the chapel a priest in a long black smock waited by the altar with Duncan MacDonald standing by his side. Duncan held a pottery flagon in one hand from which he took a large swig.

"Ah! My bride approaches!" he cried, the words a little slurred. "Although from her expression ye would think it's a funeral." He laughed humorlessly. "Aren't we just the happy couple? "

Maria gave him a withering look. "Straighten up will ye? This is yer wedding!"

Duncan grinned and gave his grandmother a flourishing bow, ruined only by his slight stumble.

The guards shoved Anna forward until she was standing by Duncan's side, facing the priest. They did not release her. The only exits she could see were the door she'd come in by and another door in the corner which she guessed led to the vestry. Other than their little group, the chapel was empty.

Oh, Emeric, she thought. Where are you?

She ached for him so badly that it was like a gut punch, driving the breath from her lungs. But she wouldn't let Duncan or Maria or Alexander see her weakness. She lifted her chin and faced the priest, her expression stony.

The priest appeared flustered, his eyes darting between the couple before him and the laird and lady standing behind. He licked his lips nervously.

Duncan laughed boisterously at the priest's discomfort and took another swig from his flagon with an unsteady hand. His eyes were beginning to glaze over.

"What are ye waiting for?" Maria snapped at the priest. "Get on with it, man!"

The priest licked his lips again and opened his Bible.

"You can't make me do this," Anna said, struggling in her guards' grips. "I won't say any of the words you need me to say. I won't make any of the vows."

"Whether ye will or not doesnae matter, lass," Laird Alexander said harshly. "A MacDonald never lets a little thing like consent stand in the way of what he wants. "

Duncan hiccupped loudly beside her and flashed a greasy grin. "Aye lass, best go along with it. I promise to make ye very happy."

Anna met his gaze. "I am not a property to be bartered," she spat, her voice echoing through the chapel. "You hear that commotion outside? That is the Mackintosh and they are coming for me!"

If she thought her words would intimidate any of them, she was sadly mistaken. Lady Maria waved a dismissive hand. "We will deal with the Mackintosh, just as we will deal with the Murrays. They are of no consequence. Now get on with the ceremony!"

The priest, visibly shaken, turned pale. He cast a worried glance at Laird Alexander, who gave him an impatient nod. Trembling, the priest began to read through the Latin verses of the wedding ceremony.

Duncan hiccupped again, this time almost toppling over with the force of it. The guards grinned and steadied him.

With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Anna ripped her arm free from the guard's slackened grip and pushed hard against Duncan's unsteady form, sending him careening into the other guard.

Anna bolted for the vestry door. She could hear the rough voices of the guards behind her, cursing loudly as they fought to disentangle themselves from Duncan's crumpled form. She didn't dare look back, her gaze locked on the sanctuary beyond the vestry door. She reached out, grabbed the door handle—just as hands closed on her and yanked her back .

"No!" she screamed, spinning and swinging a desperate punch.

The guard caught her wrist before the blow landed and twisted her arm up her back.

"Get your hands off me!" she bellowed, trying desperately to kick him. "Let me go!"

But the other guard grabbed her now too, pinning her arm behind her so harshly that she felt stabs of pain through her shoulders.

"You can't do this!" she yelled. "I won't let you!"

The guards remained deaf to her shouts as they began dragging her back to the altar. She fought and struggled and somewhere on the edge of her hearing she heard the crash of a door bursting open.

And then, a sound. The thumping twang of a bowstring cut through the cacophony. The grip on her arm slackened and she turned just in time to see the guard slump to the floor, an arrow puncturing his ribs. As he hit the ground, a second arrow whizzed past in rapid succession, burying itself into the neck of the remaining guard. He too sputtered and crumpled.

Suddenly free, Anna stumbled, then looked up. Emeric. Her Emeric, stood in the doorway with a bow clutched in his hand and a sword strapped across his back. He eased another arrow onto the string smoothly, locking gazes with Anna. She read a silent promise in his eyes. I won't let them harm you.

"Let her go," he said, his voice as cold as a Scottish winter as he pointed his arrow at Maria's chest. "Or by God, I'll put ye all down. "

The priest dropped to his knees, whispering prayers under his breath while Lady Maria's eyes flashed with fury.

"What are ye doing, Mackintosh?" she snarled, her nostrils flaring in contempt. "This is MacDonald land. Ye have no authority here!" Her words rang out, echoing in the high-vaulted ceiling of the chapel. "Nor do ye have claim on this woman! Would ye destroy all yer clan's alliances for a clanless outlander?"

Emeric sighted along the string. "For her," he said. "I would destroy the world." His voice was soft, but his tone was as sharp as the arrow he held poised and ready.

Maria's lips curled in a sneer, her eyes flickering with a dangerous fire of their own. "Ye think ye can threaten me in my own home?" she barked, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "Ye forget yer place, Mackintosh!"

She reached out an arm, making a crushing gesture with her fingers and Emeric's bow suddenly caught fire with a whoosh of flame. He yelled, startled, and staggered back, releasing the bow which clattered to the floor as a pile of blackened charcoal fragments.

Emeric stared in shock at Lady Maria. "Ye are one of them! A Fae!"

Maria's sneer only widened, her teeth gleaming in the chapel's dim light. "So slow to catch on, Mackintosh. Aye, I am of the Fae. And ye are of the Order of the Osprey. And so here we are to do our little dance once again. It pleases me that my bloodline will be the ones to end yer precious Order. "

Emeric's expression grew grim. "Yer kind have tried many times already, Unseelie. And ye have failed every time. This one will be no different."

He drew his claymore from its scabbard across his back. The blade sang as it was drawn, a beautiful and deadly melody that echoed in the chapel's depths. "Ye have no power over me," he said. "And I dinna fear ye."

Maria's laughter filled the room. "Aye, that's what they all say in the beginning." She drew herself up to her full height, her eyes blazing with an unnatural light as she flexed her fingers. "Come then. Dance with me, Mackintosh."

Emeric growled, raised his sword two-handed and stepped towards Maria. But as he did so, another blade came swinging at him from the left and he was forced to pivot, bringing his own weapon up to block the blow. The two swords met with a metallic clang that echoed through the chapel.

Anna gasped. Laird MacDonald blocked his path. He wielded a sword of ancient design, an imposing weapon decorated with Celtic knotwork that shimmered strangely in the light.

"Ye come into my home," Laird MacDonald hissed, his arms straining as the two men pushed against each other. "Bring an army to my gates and attack my family. Ye have started a war, Mackintosh!"

"It was started long before this," Emeric growled back. "It was started the moment ye thought ye could take Anna from me. If ye want war, then ye shall have it. Not even ye can withstand the Mackintosh and Murrays together. "

Anna saw the laird's eyes widen slightly and Emeric laughed sardonically. "Oh, aye, I know all about yer invasion plan. And so do the Murrays."

"Ha!" Lady Maria shouted from where she was watching avidly from the other side of the room. "I told ye that was a terrible plan! Well, it no longer matters. We have all we need. Now stop dallying and finish him! We have a wedding to conclude!"

In response, Laird Alexander gave a mighty heave against Emeric's blade and then spun away, staggering as they disentangled. It took only an instant to regain his footing and then, with a speed that defied his age, he lunged at Emeric, his sword slicing through the air with deadly intent.

Anna's heart leapt into her mouth. Emeric barely had time to bring up his own weapon in defense, steel clashing against steel as their swords met. Emeric ducked and weaved, his movements fluid as he parried and counterattacked with incredible agility. But MacDonald was no less skilled. His taller frame gave him greater reach, forcing Emeric to defend rather than attack.

Pressing herself against the wall, Anna watched with wide eyes as the two men exchanged blows. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she watched Emeric fight for their lives.

She had to do something. But what?

Maria was on the far side of the room. Her eyes were shining and a small smile curled her mouth as she watched the violence. She was enjoying it. What kind of woman was she ?

Not a woman at all. A creature of dark power. How long before she decided to use that power against Emeric? What could she do to help? Her gaze landed on the altar. On the marble slab lay a chalice, made of silver and carved with knotwork.

Anna sprinted towards it. The cool metal of the chalice tingled against her skin as she gripped it firmly, took a breath, then turned and flung it with all her might at Laird MacDonald.

Her aim was good. It whacked him in the back of the head. He grunted and staggered, losing his balance.

Emeric seized his chance. He swung his blade, caught the crossguards of MacDonald's sword with his own, and yanked the weapon out of the laird's hands. It went sailing over the other side of the chapel and clanged against the flagstone floor.

Laird MacDonald's eyes widened. "Now, wait a minute! I can—"

Emeric hammered his elbow into MacDonald's temple. The older man's eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped unconscious to the floor. Emeric leaned on his sword, panting heavily. Then he straightened, looking around for Anna.

"Emeric!" She launched herself across the chapel at him.

He dropped his sword to catch her and suddenly his arms were around her, holding her tightly.

"Anna," he breathed into her hair. "Are ye all right?"

"I'm fine," she answered, her voice muffled against his sweat-soaked tunic. "But we have to get out of here. "

The sound of clapping reverberated throughout the chamber. Maria stepped forward, an amused smile curling her lips.

"Oh well done. That was quite the show. Ye two make a formidable team. It's a shame ye work for the other side, Emeric. We could make use of someone of yer talents. If ye came over to us, I might even let ye keep Anna."

Anna felt a chill race down her spine but she stood her ground, gripping Emeric's hand tighter in silent support.

"Maria," Emeric's voice was low and dangerous. "I didnae want this fight. But ye forced my hand. The Order will learn of yer treachery. There is no way out for ye."

Maria scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "The Order? Those old wheezing gasbags canna tell their arses from their elbows!"

Emeric's gaze hardened. "Is that so? Then how come we have thwarted ye and yer army of Disinherited at every turn? How come we have stopped every evil scheme yer people have dreamed up? Just like we'll stop whatever sordid scheme ye have devised this time."

Maria's eyes flashed dangerously. "Oh, brave words, Emeric Mackintosh. Is that what ye tell yerself at night to stave off the nightmares?" She moved closer, her steps silent on the stone floor. "Ye are fighting a losing battle, hero."

She seemed suddenly taller, as though her presence filled the room. Anna was reminded once again of Irene MacAskill but whereas Irene's presence was benevolent, kindly even, Maria's was a dark storm that was about to break upon them. It took all of Anna's courage to hold her ground .

"It seems we are a witness short," Maria announced, changing the subject abruptly, "since ye have so expertly incapacitated my son-in-law." She tapped her chin as though in thought and then her eyes lit up. "I know! Ye can be the second witness! Ye can stay and watch yer lady marry my grandson. Willnae that be nice for ye?"

Emeric's lips pulled back in a snarl. "That isnae happening."

"Oh aye, I'm afraid it is." She turned. "Duncan! Duncan, where are ye?"

Duncan MacDonald straightened from behind the altar where he and the priest had been sheltering. His skin was pale, almost bloodless, and from the stain down his shirt, Anna guessed he'd vomited. Nevertheless, he affected his usual, cocky smile.

"Ye called, grandmother? Just been admiring the floor tiles down here. Exquisite. Positively breathtaking workmanship. I must find out who laid them, I really must."

"Shut yer blathering and get over here," Maria snapped. "And bring that sniveling priest with ye."

Duncan shrugged then reached down and dragged the priest to his feet.

"Let me go!" the man wailed. "I didnae agree to this!"

Duncan shook him until his teeth rattled. "Aye, well I think we'd all rather be somewhere else but that's life isnae it?" He dragged the man to the altar.

Emeric stepped ahead of Anna, pushing her behind him. His gaze quickly roved across the chapel, assessing their options. To get to the main door they would have to get past Maria, to get to the vestry door, they would have to get past Duncan.

Anna saw his gaze narrow on the vestry door. That was their best chance. She clung to his hand tighter and nodded.

"Go!" Emeric shouted.

They sprinted for the vestry, their hands still intertwined. Anna's pulse raced, her dress swishing and rustling with every hurried step. She could hear Maria's furious shout behind them and she felt rather than saw Emeric throw a glance over his shoulder.

The vestry door loomed ahead, its wood worn but sturdy-looking, but as they reached it a force slammed into them like a battering ram. Anna cried out as she was wrenched off her feet and flung backwards. Emeric fought against it, his muscles straining as he tried to protect Anna, but it was futile.

They skidded across the floor, Emeric's knees scraping on the hard stones, until they hit the chapel wall. Emeric grunted in pain but didn't let go of Anna's hand. He propped himself up on one elbow, shaking his head as if to clear it.

Anna's head spun, her ears rang, and for a moment all she could do was gasp for breath. She felt Emeric's hand tighten in hers, a grounding point amidst the chaos.

Maria strode over, grabbed Anna's wrist in an iron grip, and yanked her to her feet. She wobbled, woozy and disorientated.

"Get yer hands off her!" Emeric roared, scrambling to his feet.

Maria glanced over her shoulder, a look of irritation flashing across her features. "Enough!" she snapped, flicking her fingers towards him. "Ye will witness but ye willnae interfere."

Emeric tried to reach for the dagger at his side but his arm suddenly froze in mid-movement. He glared at Maria. "What...what have ye done to me?"

"If ye willnae behave then ye leave me no choice," Maria smiled. "The Fae have rules, as ye are no doubt aware. If I am to have control over Duncan and Anna's children, then they must be descendants of my family line. Which means Anna must be of my family. Which means her marriage to Duncan must be legitimate. Which means there must be two witnesses. It's all a little tiring, really. Rules, rules, rules. I am one witness. Ye are the other. Now kindly shut yer wailing or I will gag ye." She turned away. "Duncan! Get on with it."

Duncan set the priest in front of Anna, who tried to pull away. But she was still dizzy and shocked from Maria's attack and could barely think straight.

"Well?" Duncan snapped. "Stop dallying, man! Marry me and Lady Anna."

"This isnae right!" the priest protested weakly, looking wretched.

"Does it look like I care? Just do it!" Duncan hissed back at him.

The priest's gaze shot to Emeric, but Anna saw that he stood frozen, his eyes blazing with barely contained rage yet unable to move a muscle. A plea for help reflected in the old man's terrified eyes but all Emeric could do was grit his teeth in obvious frustration.

Maria, who had been watching the whole scene with an amused smirk, stepped forward, her dark gown rustling against the cold stone floor. "Priest," she said smoothly, "this is yer duty. Perform it."

"I... I canna. Not under these circumstances," the priest stammered, his thin shoulders trembling under Duncan's heavy grip.

"What did ye say?" Maria's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as she turned her fiery gaze on him. The poor priest whimpered and looked away, shrinking under her towering figure.

Anna tried to resist, but her arms and legs felt like they were filled with lead. "I won't do this," she said, her voice weak and wobbly. "I won't do it."

They all ignored her. The priest swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he faced Anna and Duncan.

"Duncan MacDonald, do ye take Anna Webster to be yer lawfully wedded wife?"

Duncan glanced at Maria and for an instant Anna could swear she saw a flash of hatred in his gaze. "Aye. I do. Just hurry up will ye?"

"And do ye, Anna Webster, take Duncan MacDonald to be yer lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asked turning to Anna.

"No!" she croaked. "Never—" Her mouth suddenly snapped shut. Her eyes bulged as she tried to speak, but no words would come out.

Then, to her horror, she found herself nodding.

EMERIC WATCHED IN MUTE terror as Anna nodded to the priest's question. Nobody was paying him any attention. The priest's eyes were downcast, his face pale with fear as he mumbled the words of the ceremony. He could not see Anna and Duncan's faces as they had their backs to him, but Maria stood off to one side, her expression avid as she witnessed the ceremony.

Witness.

The only reason he was still alive was because Maria needed him. Without him, this marriage would not be binding.

His service with the Order of the Osprey had taught him a great deal about the Fae and how they operated. Although beings of immense power, they were bound by rules. Without those rules, they were powerless.

Like now, when the rules of a marriage contract must be obeyed in order for Maria to gain power over Anna.

So the answer was simple: he had to break those rules.

Emeric rallied against the invisible force imprisoning him. Gathering every bit of his willpower, he struggled against the pressure as sweat trickled down his forehead and his muscles strained.

He managed to move a finger, then another. The strain was excruciating, as though he was dragging chains around each digit with every twitch. Encouraged, he clenched his fist, feeling unexpected tremors shoot up his arm. His limbs still felt like they were made of stone yet slightly more pliable. Inch by painful inch, he began to move his hand towards the handle of the dagger at his side.

He could hear the priest's voice, distant and shaky, reciting the final rituals that would bind Anna to Duncan forever. Emeric felt a desperate rage consume him .

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he managed to hook a finger around the hilt of the dagger, and then wrap his hand around the age-darkened leather grip. He dragged it free from its scabbard, the rasp of metal echoing through the silent room.

The priest was finishing the vows, an ancient benediction. "May ye be blessed by God almighty..." He droned, visibly shaking.

"Stop!" Emeric's bellow echoed off the stone walls.

All heads turned towards him, even Maria's. Anna's terrified gaze met his own.

His hand holding the dagger rose shakily. "I willnae be yer witness, Maria! I break the rules!" Then, quite deliberately, he pressed the blade of the dagger against his own chest.

Maria hissed. "What are ye doing ye fool?"

"Without me as a witness, this marriage is invalid. Without me as a witness, ye gain no power over Anna. Ye fail."

The point of the blade dug into his chest, just above his heart, splitting the fabric of his tunic and grazing his skin. The cold steel was unforgiving under the pressure of his hand, but Emeric barely noticed. His gaze remained locked on Maria's. He could see the moment when she comprehended what he was about to do, her eyes growing wide and round before her lips curled into a sneer.

"Ye wouldnae dare."

Emeric stared her down. "Try me."

He could feel the cold steel of the blade against his skin, a chilling reminder of what he was about to do—what he was willing to do in order to save Anna. He glanced at her. Her face was a mask of stricken terror.

"I love ye, Anna," Emeric whispered, his eyes meeting hers in the silence that had fallen over the room. "Remember that, always."

"Touching," Maria snapped.

Her magic lashed out, proof that he'd guessed right and that she could not complete the ritual without him. He could feel it like tendrils of frost snaking around his wrist and attempting to pry his fingers open.

He snarled in defiance, struggling against her power. Resisting with all his might, he braced himself against the onslaught. His grip tightened on the hilt of the dagger even as Maria's power fought to tear it away from him. His knuckles turned white under the strain; his muscles screamed in protest but he did not release his hold.

Then suddenly someone moved. Not Anna, still weak and woozy. Not Laird MacDonald, still unconscious. Not the priest, frozen by fear.

It was Duncan MacDonald.

He grabbed the heavy wooden cross from atop the altar and swung it with all his might. Straight at his grandmother.

Maria turned, but too late to fully dodge the incoming blow. The cross slammed into her shoulder, sending her staggering backwards. The spell around Emeric snapped. In one swift movement, he threw his dagger. It spun end over end, flashing in the sunlight, and buried itself up to the hilt in Maria's chest.

She let out a strangled gasp, staggering backwards with a look of utter shock on her face. "No..." she whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stumbled back a step, then two. She tried to pull the dagger out but hissed in pain as her fingers touched it. "Iron," she hissed the word like a curse.

"Aye," Emeric said. "Seems those wheezing old gasbags in the Order of the Osprey know their arses from their elbows after all. And they know what can kill a Fae."

Maria turned to run. Duncan dropped the cross and lunged after her, but Maria's form flickered like heat haze and then disappeared. The silence that followed was almost deafening. Everyone simply stared at where Maria had been standing.

The moment was broken by a low whistle from Duncan MacDonald. "Damn it. She was faster than I expected."

"Where is she?" Anna asked.

"Gone," Emeric replied. "And I doubt she'll be coming back."

Anna let out a whimper and staggered over to him. He wrapped his arms around her. Lord, it felt so good to hold her.

Duncan MacDonald gave him a lopsided smile. "Killing yerself? What kind of mad plan was that?"

"Any madder than betraying an Unseelie Fae?" he responded.

Duncan shrugged. "What can I say? I must have gotten tired of being on the wrong side. Perhaps I'm my mother's son after all. She always hated the evil old bitch. And besides, I have friends in the Order of the Osprey to protect me now." His gaze sharpened on Emeric. "Dinna I? "

Emeric studied him. He had never liked Duncan MacDonald but he knew the courage it must have taken to do what he'd just done. "Aye," he said finally. "Ye do."

Duncan sighed. "Good," he said. "Because if she lives, I've just made a dangerous enemy."

From outside came the thump of footsteps and the heavy wooden doors of the chapel burst open with an echoing crash. MacDonald guards burst through, weapons drawn.

"Arrest Laird MacDonald for treason," said Duncan, stepping forward to meet his father's men.

The guards faltered, glancing between Duncan and the unconscious Laird MacDonald lying on the floor.

"He tricked us into war with our neighbors and has led our clan to the brink of destruction! If ye wish to live, ye will arrest him and surrender to the Mackintosh!"

The leader of the guards snarled. "We swore oaths to yer father."

Duncan stepped up, coming eye to eye with the man. "Ye swore oaths to clan MacDonald! The Mackintosh are in the castle! Do ye wish to die today? No? Then ye will arrest my father and then surrender! I have it on good authority that we will reach favorable peace terms." He looked at Emeric. "Is that not right?"

"Aye," Emeric said. "It is."

The guard captain looked around, as if assessing his options. Then bowed to Duncan. "Aye, my lord."

They hoisted Laird Alexander up and carried him out. Duncan followed but paused in the doorway. "I will see ye in the great hall to talk terms." His gaze shifted to Anna. "I never wanted this," he said by way of apology. Then he strode after the guards, taking the near-hysterical priest with him.

With everyone else gone, peace fell upon the chapel like a shroud. The only sounds were the distant echo of a closing door, the high whimper of the wind hitting the stone walls, and Anna's shallow breathing as she clung to Emeric.

"You're alive," she murmured into his chest.

"Aye," he whispered. He cupped Anna's face, tilting her chin to look up at him. "Alive and here with ye." His thumbs grazed her cheeks as he lost himself in her bottomless eyes.

Anna sighed, her face softening and the tension seeping out of her. Her fingers moved to trace the rough callouses on his hands. "Thank God," she breathed. "I was so scared..."

He tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His voice was husky when he spoke, affected by the depth of emotion he felt. "I know, love. I'm sorry ye had to go through that."

"Promise me you won't do anything like that again?" Anna said. "I mean, what were you thinking ? What kind of brainless plan was that? You wouldn't really have gone through with it, would you?"

Emeric shrugged. "I was hoping to call Maria's bluff. It worked."

She prodded him in the chest. "But it might not have. You're crazy, you know that? Promise me, Emeric. Promise me you won't ever do that again. I don't think my heart could stand it."

"I promise," he said, meeting her eyes. He suddenly could not look away .

Ever since her arrival, he'd been entranced by the fire she carried within her, the fierce spirit that challenged him, drove him to be better. Now, as he looked into her eyes, that same fire flickered back at him, melting the frost-edged fear that had settled in his heart.

How was he ever supposed to let this woman go? He could not. It would be the death of him. Emeric swallowed hard as he made his decision.

"I am a man of war," he confessed, his gaze never wavering from hers. "I was born to it, raised within its iron grip. I understand battle and conflict more than I ever thought to understand love." His fingers tightened around hers. "But ye, Anna...ye have shown me there is something more powerful than any of that. I love ye. I will always love ye." He swallowed, working up the courage for his next words. "After what ye have endured, I understand if ye dinna wish to go anywhere near marriage. But...but...I...would ye..." His throat closed and he could not form the words.

Anna's hands tightened about his. "Emeric Mackintosh," she said, softly. "Would you marry me?"

His jaw dropped open. "I'm sorry?"

She laughed softly. "You heard. I love you, you big idiot. And seeing as you're having such difficulty asking me, I thought I'd save you the trouble. So, how about it? You want to get married or not?"

He was dreaming. He had to be. But the rush of joy that spread through him was all too real.

He grabbed her, yanked her against him and kissed her, giving her the only answer he could.