Chapter 14

Tad could feel Bran’s eyes shooting to him. There weren’t enough curse words in the world to utter at that moment. The way Tad and Catreena were still hastily getting dressed, it was obvious exactly what they had been doing. Nothing needed to be said to confirm it.

“Bran–” Tad began, not really sure how to finish the rest of the sentence, though he needn’t have worried. Bran handled that for him.

“Ye bastard.” Bran marched toward him.

Tad could see the punch coming but he didn’t even try to defend himself. The first blow was straight across the top of his cheek. Bran was tall and strong, that punch knocking Tad for sixes, making him step back.

“Bran!” Catreena screeched.

Somewhere, out of the corner of his eye, Tad was aware that Catreena had barely finished tying her gown as she pulled on Bran’s arm, trying to stop the assault. Little good it did. Bran shrugged off her easily and came at Tad again.

“Bran –” Tad began, but the second punch came to his nose as Bran took him by the throat. There was a third punch that made Tad see stars. He was fairly certain he’d dropped to his knees in the onslaught, but he still wouldn’t fight back.

He and Bran were usually a good match in a fight, but not today. Tad knew he couldn’t raise a hand against Bran today.

He’s right, isnae he? I deserve this.

“Stop it, stop it, please,” Catreena’s voice seemed to come at Tad from a distance.

He was down on his knees now. He could feel the floor pressing through his trews as Bran suddenly released his neck. Tad blinked wildly, trying to bring some feeling back to his face. He raised a hand, his fingers trailing over the already swelling marks across the side of his face.

“Bran, look what ye have done!” There was a hiccough to Catreena’s voice, and that sound made Tad focus more than anything else.

She’s crying.

His gaze darted to her with worry.

She had thrown herself between them, her smaller frame forcing Bran’s taller backward. The tears had sprung to her eyes fast as she pushed against Bran’s arms, refusing to let him anywhere near Tad again.

Catreena.

It was all Tad could think, though he didn’t have the emotional strength in that moment to say her name. Bran would have probably punched him again.

“What dae ye think is happening here, exactly?” Catreena challenged.

There were footsteps running toward them now from the amount of screaming Catreena had done, though Tad barely took note.

“Oh, it doesnae take much leap of the imagination,” Bran snapped, his eyes like fire as he looked between the two of them. “Look at the pair of ye.”

“And it was all consensual.” Catreena snapped at her brother, releasing him and moving to stand in front of Tad.

With some difficulty, Tad made himself stand, using the table at the side of the room to take his weight.

“Catreena!” The word erupted from Bran like an explosion. “I dinnae want tae hear about that.”

As Tad stood straight, Bran’s eyes narrowed on him again.

Tad realized that although Bran was known more as the diplomat among the brothers, the politician rather than the warrior, that he was still a dangerous man to go up against in a fight. His enemies must have quaked in their boots on the battlefield.

“Ye,” Bran seethed and marched around Catreena. He reached Tad all too easily and punched him again.

“Tad!” Catreena screamed his name this time. “Why are ye nae defending yerself?”

He staggered back against the table but didn’t raise a hand against Bran. He couldn’t.

“He’s nae fighting because he’s well aware I said I’d kill him if he ever laid a hand on ye,” Bran snapped, shrugging Catreena off as she once again attempted to pull Bran back. “He broke a braitherly vow.”

“Fer Christ’s sake.” Words now tore from Tad. There was an anger in his gut, an anger he could not let go of as he stood straight. He took hold of his jaw and moved it a little, ensuring it still worked properly after Bran’s repeated blows. “How would ye have felt if this was me reaction when ye pursued me sister?”

“That was different.” Bran moved around Catreena another time. He moved to stand in front of Tad, practically nose to nose. Despite the fact Bran’s hand curled at his side, as if he was tempted to hit Tad again, he didn’t.

He kens I’m right.

“How?” Tad asked in an undertone of danger.

“Because ye ken I would kill fer Ilyssa. I’d sooner kill meself than ever see her hurt. Ye ken that,” Bran hissed venomously.

“And ye think I would ever see Cat hurt?” Tad asked, gesturing toward her. She was doing her best to hold her tears in but failing. Behind her in the doorway, others were approaching. Tad was sure he could see Ilyssa at the front, though he kept his focus firmly on Bran. “Ye think I would risk her? Risk tae see her hurt?”

“Ye trail women behind ye like they are beetles crushed beneath yer feet,” Bran said tartly.

Tad took a step back. It was a low blow, even now.

“I have never done that.” He shook his head. He looked at Catreena, watching as she wiped another tear from her cheek.

“Bran, we talked of courtship,” she said, cutting into their conversation. “It isnae what ye think.”

Tad marked the change in Bran’s expression. It was momentary surprise before he seemed to shrug it off and shake his head. He walked away.

“Probably just what he said tae get that dress of ye in the first place.”

“Bran,” she said in a small voice.

It sounded wrong to Tad’s ears, to hear Catreena speaking in a small tone at all. It wasn’t her. She was full of defiance and fire. It was one of the things that drew him to her so much. It made the way Bran had belittled her all the more painful.

“That isnae what happened,” Tad said with fierceness. Bran turned back to face him, struggling to stand still. Ilyssa had moved to Bran’s side and taken his arm in an attempt to calm him, though it did very little. The moment’s hesitation it gave though, was what Tad needed to keep speaking. “It was me plan tae speak tae ye and yer braithers. I was going tae ask fer yer blessing tae court Catreena.”

“Strange,” Bran said, thick sarcasm in his tone. “Ye could wait tae speak tae me, but ye could nae wait tae bed me sister.”

Catreena flinched, as if she had been struck by Bran’s words.

Tad felt as if he had been hit yet again. He fell back, slumping on the table behind him.

He’s right.

Tad had been weak. For all his plans to speak to Bran and his brothers, to do this properly, Tad couldn’t stay away from Catreena. The moment she had begged him, he had been malleable to her, happy to break all his rules just to taste her and make her his for good.

“Bran, just breathe, please,” Ilyssa begged, but Bran ignored her. He rounded on his sister instead.

“Catreena, how could ye? Ye of all people ken what he is.” Bran thrust a finger at Tad as if he was sludge beneath his shoes. “Ye must be mad. Ye must have lost all semblance of yer sanity tae even consider it in the first place.”

“Bran,” she said with sudden fervor and feeling. She jerked her chin high. Despite the tears, she suddenly looked regal indeed. It made the guilt swell in Tad even more. He had compromised her. It was his fault. “Ye forget, what I dae with me life is me concern. I am nae yer marionette tae control. So, instead of belittling me fer nae having sanity, why dinnae ye respect me decisions as just that? They are me decisions.”

Ilyssa waved her hand madly behind Bran’s back, clearly thinking that was not a good route for Catreena to go down, but something in what Catreena had said took the wind out of Bran.

His shoulders slumped an inch and he stepped toward Catreena.

“I am nae yer faither, nor yer controller, but I am yer braither and yer protector. Ye have more heart than most women I ken, Catreena.” Her words made Catreena look down at the ground between them. “And I dinnae want tae see ye hurt by the likes of him.”

“Ye were me best friend just minutes ago, Bran,” Tad spoke up, though Ilyssa now started waving her hand madly at him, trying to get him to hold his tongue instead.

“Dinnae say another word,” Bran mirrored her silent order with words instead. “Pack yer bags, Catreena. We’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Ilyssa spluttered, speaking up at last.

“We cannae leave,” Catreena murmured, shaking her head.

“Aye, we’re going. Just as soon as we’re packed, first thing in the morning. Go. Now.” Bran thrust a finger at the door.

“Ye are nae me faither!” she barked at him again. His hand lowered an inch, an apologetic look in his eye.

“But I am yer family. We shall go home where we will discuss this as a family. We’ll also discuss this friendship too,” he said, scoffing as he looked at Tad. “And as fer ye,” he kept his eyes on Tad. “Dinnae come near her again.”