Chapter 22

22

“ I wasnae sure ye would come back,” Erica said quietly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Hunter hesitated by the door, his heart twisting at her defeated tone. But then he forced the emotions down.

“I came to check on ye. That’s it,” he said gruffly.

“I’m fine,” she replied, though the tension in her shoulders told him otherwise.

They stood in silence for a moment, the air between them thick with unspoken words.

“I havenae seen Lily yet,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Is she well?”

“She’s fine,” Hunter replied. “She’s bein’ looked after.”

“And I’m nae allowed to see her because…”

“I never said ye werenae allowed to see her. I only designated the areas ye cannae go to.”

“I’m locked in here half the day. Yer men escorted me to the gardens for a mere walk, and then I came back here nae even an hour later!” she protested, deeply frustrated.

“I willnae risk either of ye stayin’ outside for longer than necessary, but?—”

“But nothin’… Christ above, Hunter! Do ye even hear yerself?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I’m yer wife, nae yer prisoner!”

Hunter’s jaw tightened. “Ye are me responsibility, as is Lily. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep ye both safe.”

Her laugh was bitter, filled with pain. “Safe? Ye have locked me away, refused to even look at me, and for what? Because ye dinnae trust me? Even though I’ve given ye nay reason nae to trust me.”

“It’s nae about trust,” he insisted, though even as the words left his mouth, he knew they weren’t entirely true.

“Is it nae?” she challenged and rose to her feet. “Ye already blame me for this madness.”

“This isnae about blame either. It’s about yer protection, Erica. How is it that yer niece has a better concept of that than ye do?”

“Because it doesnae feel like protection, to me. It feels like punishment!”

Hunter ran a hand through his hair, frustration coursing through him as he chose his next words carefully. “I told Kara this last night when she brought me food. This door”—he pointed to the large door to his chambers—“it can be locked from the inside. And, need I remind ye that ye are the Lady of Clan MacKinnon and this castle. There is nay order I can give to any of our servants that ye cannae give as well. All that to say that ye arenae a prisoner, Erica Buchanan. Quit pityin’ yerself and open yer eyes to what is goin’ on around ye.”

Several emotions flashed in Erica’s eyes, which made Hunter feel as if he’d finally secured a victory. However, as he turned to leave her, the image of her standing there, hurt and vulnerable, stayed with him, haunting him as he started to walk back to his study.

He stalked down the stone corridor, his hands clenched as if sheer willpower could keep his emotions from spilling over.

What am I doin’?

The question pounded in his head like a drum. Every decision since that damned letter felt like a misstep. Every look Erica gave him now was either full of hurt or defiance, and both twisted his insides into knots.

He couldn’t afford distractions. Not when her safety—and Lily’s—was at stake. Yet, when he heard her light, determined footsteps following him, his jaw tightened.

Of course, she isnae goin’ to let this go.

“Hunter!” Erica called, her voice echoing through the hall.

He stopped, his shoulders stiffening.

The woman is relentless.

“What is it now, Erica?” he asked without turning around, his voice clipped.

“Ye cannae keep me here like some… some fragile thing,” she insisted, her voice trembling slightly.

He turned around then, his gray eyes boring into hers, steel against her fire, but he didn’t respond right away. He just made eye contact with his men behind her, a silent dismissal.

Her lips thinned, but she didn’t back down. “I havenae seen Lily all day, Hunter. Ye might think that ignorin’ me is some grand strategy to protect me, but ye’re wrong. I’m nae a child.”

“I havenae ever thought that ye were actin’ like a child,” he said coldly. “Ye’re a woman who seems intent on puttin’ herself in danger without any understandin’ of it. But nay, nae a child.”

She squared her shoulders, her green eyes blazing. “Then let me see Lily.”

Hunter cursed under his breath. “Lily is safe, and that’s all ye need to ken.”

Her voice dropped, softer but no less determined. “I need to see her, Hunter. Please .”

He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to lash out. He was not angry at her, but at himself for the mess this had turned into.

“Come with me,” he bit out.

He turned abruptly and stormed down the corridor, not waiting to see if she followed. The clicking of her boots against the stone reassured him that she had, though her silence unsettled him.

Erica was rarely quiet, unless she was thinking—and her thoughts often led to trouble.

Hunter led her back to his chambers and then stopped in front of a blank stretch of wall, lit faintly by the flickering firelight. He pressed his palm against a specific stone, and with a soft grind of ancient mechanisms, a section of the wall shifted inward. He motioned for her to step inside.

Erica’s eyes widened as she peered into the narrow, dimly lit passageway. “What is this?” she whispered.

“A secret passageway,” Hunter said gruffly. “The castle is full of them. This one leads to Lily’s chambers.”

Erica stepped inside, glancing back at him with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. “Why would a castle need so many hidden passageways?”

Hunter let out a mirthless chuckle. “You’d be surprised how useful they are. As boys, me braithers and I used to race through these passageways at night, stealin’ sweets from the kitchens or tryin’ to scare each other with stories of beasts that lived in the walls.”

Erica hesitated, clearly still upset. “And?”

“And then,” he continued, his voice softening despite himself, “we’d huddle in me eldest braither’s room, telling tall tales until we fall asleep. Duncan always made sure the youngest of us felt safe, even when he didnae believe a word of the nonsense we spouted.” His voice faltered, the weight of the memory pressing down on him.

The ache of loss surged in his chest.

They’re all gone. All except for me.

His brothers, his parents—every person who had once filled these halls with laughter and warmth. The ghosts of his past haunted every corner of this place.

He shook his head, clearing it before the emotions could take root.

“Hunter…” Erica began, her voice soft, but he cut her off.

“It doesnae matter now,” he said brusquely. “Stay close. These passages can be disorientin’ if ye dinnae ken yer way around them.”

Her expression was unreadable as she followed him through the narrow passage. Hunter focused on the path ahead, unwilling to meet her gaze. He had let his guard down, and he couldn’t afford to do it again.

They emerged into a dimly lit hallway, this one just outside Lily’s chambers. Hunter opened the door quietly to reveal the young girl sitting on the floor with an open book in her lap.

She looked up, her face lighting up when she saw Erica. “Aunt Erica!” she exclaimed, scrambling to her feet and running to hug her.

Hunter stepped back, watching as Erica knelt to embrace Lily, her smile warm and genuine. It struck him, then, how naturally she fit into their lives, even if he wished she didn’t.

She shouldnae be here, caught up in this mess. She deserves better.

Erica glanced back at him, her expression softening. “Thank ye,” she said quietly.

He gave a terse nod, his emotions too tangled to respond properly. “Dinnae stay long,” he muttered gruffly.

He closed the door behind him and then leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair.

His mind felt like a battlefield, torn between the desire to protect his wife and the feelings he couldn’t seem to suppress. But he couldn’t let those feelings cloud his judgment.

He had a promise to keep, and Erica’s safety came before everything else—even his foolish hopes.