“Carissa will pay for the pain she has caused the Sinclares!”
She cringed at Cavan’s command, for she knew he had been relentless in his search for her and would not rest until she met the same fate as her father though she questioned if she could meet death as bravely as he had. Though Mordrac the Barbarian had been her father, she wasn’t truly her father’s daughter. She had not the cruelty in her that he had though she had made certain that others believed that she did. She had realized at a very young age that if she showed any empathy or sympathy, her father would make her suffer dearly for it. So out of necessity, she learned how to portray a cold, harsh exterior, not only to protect herself but also those she cared about.
She shook her head. There was no point in dwelling on the past. Her concern now was survival, and she wasn’t certain how she would do that when the Sinclares intended to see her dead, especially Ronan Sinclare.
He hated her, and with good reason. She had tormented him after his capture, but he would never understand why, and she would not bother to explain. He would never believe her anyway, so there was no reason even to try.
Her fate had been sealed twenty years ago, the day she had been born daughter to Mordrac. It had taken time to accept her lot in life, but she had, and now she had the consequences to deal with—Ronan Sinclare being one of them.
There was one, however, who knew her well and would certainly come to her rescue, but it would jeopardize his life, and she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t put anyone else in such a dire position. She had done enough harm by coming here to the village Black. And she would need to correct her mistake, though how, she wasn’t certain. She only knew that she couldn’t remain here, for her presence would continue to bring strife to the village.
“I will not leave without her!”
Carissa knew without seeing who had spoken so vehemently. Ronan hated her with the intensity of one who loves. For what truly was hatred but the complete opposite of love?
What other way did she have to judge love? She had never truly known it. Her mother had died before she could have any memories of her, and the succession of slaves who raised her did so from, fear of her father. And when once she showed that she cared for a puppy…
She shuddered, recalling her father’s cruelty, and chased away the heartbreaking memory.
She had to concentrate on her present predicament and find a solution, and as soon as possible. She did not wish to bring trouble to Bethane. The woman had been nothing but kind to her.
Carissa heard Bethane once again express her position with firm kindness.
“This is a place of sanctuary, and Carissa is welcome here for as long as she wishes to stay.”
Carissa had to smile at Bethane’s next remark.
“If you seek sanctuary here, you are welcome.”
“We have come to visit.”
From what Carissa had learned about the Sinclare brothers, that would be Artair who answered so wisely. He was by nature the most practical.
“You are welcome,” Bethane said, “though I assume your visit will be brief. The snow will soon fall in earnest, and I am sure you do not wish to be stuck here. After all, your children wait eagerly for your return.”
Children. Just the thought made Carissa sigh. She so wanted children of her own. She hugged herself thinking how she would give constant hugs to her children and love them unconditionally and protect them. Lord, but she would give her life to protect them.
Artair spoke and once again with reason. “Bethane is right. Once a heavy snow begins, we won’t be able to return home.”
A tall woman with a long blond braid draped over her chest spoke, though she directed her response to the man beside her. Since all the other brothers were accounted for, Carissa assumed that he must be Lachlan and she his wife.
“I’d like to get home to Roark before then.”
Zia was of the same mind. “I want to be able to play with Blythe in the snow.”
Bethane turned to Cavan. “And what of your twin boys? I’m sure Honora would want you there before the deep winter sets in.”
Family. Something she had longed for but never had. The Sinclares didn’t know how lucky they were, and if they were wise, they would forget about her and return home and cherish what they had.
She shook her head slowly, doubting that would happen. The Sinclare brothers were Highland warriors and were duty-bound to protect their clan. Her father had declared war on them, and her elimination would finally settle what he had begun.
“This matter must be settled first,” Cavan said with conviction.
“Cavan is right,” Ronan said with just as much fervor.
Carissa shut her eyes for a moment, wishing all of this would go away, and she would be free. Free of hatred. Free of being hunted. Free to be who she truly was.