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He took one step toward her and leaned in, malice glinting in his eyes. She fought to free herself to no avail.

“Ye kent,” she hissed.

“Kent?” He chuckled. “I orchestrated it.”

She glared at him, and was ready to fight with all she had when a sharp pain in the back of her head made her lose focus. She managed to conjure one last thought before darkness claimed her.

Alisdair.

Isla opened her eyes, and pain ripped through her body all at once. Her head was throbbing so hard that the room spun around her. She tried to sit up, only to be assaulted by a wave of nausea.

“Easy there.”

She struggled to focus, only to find that she was in a small cabin she had never seen before. And right across from her, sitting comfortably on a chair, was Gavin. She glared at him and tried to get up again, only for her legs to give way.

“Ye took quite a blow,” he remarked. “Ye had better stay put.”

She looked around. Locked windows and a barred door. Through the glass, she could tell the sun was nearly down, nothing but forest stretching in every direction. She was locked in here with him, in the middle of nowhere, and night was closing in fast.

“There,” he said, drawing her attention.

She turned and saw him set a tray of bread and water before her. She leaned back from him as far as she could. She noticed that he hadn’t tied her up, which meant that he was sure she had no way to escape.

What he didn’t know was that she had endured worse.

“If I wanted to poison ye, I wouldnae have dragged ye out here,” he pointed out calmly.

She clenched her jaw, glaring at him.

“I am nae goin’ to see ye starved,” he added.

“But ye will see me hurt, dragged, and kidnapped.”

“Ye have such a sharp tongue on ye. Now, eat.”

Isla watched him feed one more log to the fire, her mind already working the problem of how to leave this place. She had no idea where she was, or if the other men were still outside the cabin. She didn’t know how far she had been carried from the castle or how deep into the forest. But she would be damned if she didn’t make a run for it.

“Ye betrayed them,” she accused.

She wasn’t asking. She knew what Gavin had done. What she didn’t know was his motive. Why did he turn from Alisdair’s most trusted man to a traitor?

She watched him, waiting to see remorse, the hunch of a man burdened with what he had done, one moment of doubt. She could lean on that, at least.

“Aye, I did,” he said, his voice even.

He turned to her, and their eyes met. Isla felt cold sweat trickling down her spine. The look in his eyes was not that of a man riddled with guilt or doubt.

“Aye,” he repeated. “I suppose I did betray them.”

Isla watched with dread the composure of a man completely at ease with what he had done. There was no swaying him, no begging him. She had seen the same empty look in her uncle’s eyes so many times before.

“What did me uncle promise ye?” she hissed.

Gavin chuckled and got up to walk around the cabin. She watched him like a hawk, expecting rope, a whip, something that he would use to teach her manners. But all he did was look around.

Following his gaze, she looked at the cabin again, and this time she saw what fear had kept her from noticing. She had expected some abandoned, run-down hovel. Instead, she watched Gavin trail his fingers over an old wooden chair, well cared for, a faded shawl still draped over it. A three-legged stool sat by the fireplace with an embroidered cushion on it, a colorful rag spread beneath.

The whole place, she realized, was a well-kept little cabin someone had once decorated with care. She watched Gavin trail his fingers over a bundle of dried lavender hanging from the ceiling.