Dark Embrace by Brenda Joyce Page A

down.”
    Brie wanted to reach out but didn’t dare. “So you were buried alive and you waited to die.”
    He faced her. “’Twas sixty-six years ago. Now I live for my revenge.”
    His savage, ruthless bloodlust overwhelmed her, frightening her. But she didn’t blame him—she couldn’t. She couldn’t help thinking about how his poor son’s soul was suffering, caught between this world and the next one. Ian did not deserve his fate, just as his father did not.
    Aidan had heard her silent thoughts. He met her gaze, his mask briefly cracking apart. She saw a man near tears—she felt that oceanic wave of grief again.
    Brie stood and grasped his arms, shocked by the steel-hard muscles there. “We’ll figure this out together.”
    His rage erupted. He pulled away. “There is no we, Brianna. Ye dinna blame me fer wantin’ revenge. I’ll tell ye who to blame. Blame the gods! Damn every single one o’ them!”
    His anger sent her backward across the room. “You don’t mean that!”
    â€œOh, aye, I mean it,” he snarled at her. “My son was innocent, more innocent than anyone. I took vows to serve Innocence, yet my son was taken from me. It was written?” he roared. “Well, I have written the fate o’ the gods, but they’re cowards, because they willna come to earth to fight me.”
    He was challenging the gods. No mortal could win and neither could a demon, nor the son of one. “Please take back your words,” she whispered, terrified for him. “Before they hear you—before they accept!”
    â€œI hope they can hear me!” He paused at the fireplace, leaning against the stone, his back to her, trembling.
    She wanted to comfort him; she didn’t dare. She wanted to beg him to take back his words; he would refuse again or start another tirade. She wanted to run from the rage, which was making her sick; she couldn’t leave him now. So she simply stood there, looking at the most beautiful man in the world—and the most tortured one.
    A long moment passed as he fought his rage. Then he looked at her. “Ye’ll be stayin’ close to me now.”
    Brie tensed, uncertain of his meaning and wary of his intentions.
    He turned and strode to the door, where he paused. “Tomorrow we leave Awe.”
    â€œWhere are we going?” she asked nervously.
    A cool smile formed. “We go to war.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    B RIE STIFFENED , certain she had misheard him. “What?”
    â€œWe ride within the hour,” Aidan said. “We march on Inverness.”
    Brie was stunned. Her mind raced. This was the year of his execution, and it was already late November. He was hanged for treason! She was filled with dread. “Are you riding with the MacDonalds?” she managed.
    His gaze narrowed. “Ye ken our wars?”
    Oh, God, Brie thought. “Aidan, treason is an offense punishable by hanging.”
    â€œI dinna care much for the Earl o’ Argyll,” he said with a ruthless look. “Yes, I ride with MacDonald. I’ve promised him four thousand men. We fight for the Lordship o’ the Isles.”
    â€œAnd which side is the Royal Lieutenant of the North on? He’s a Frasier, isn’t he?” Brie demanded, thinking about the text she’d read. “You ride against the Crown. They will hang you for treason!”
    His eyes widened.
    Brie turned away from him, shaken to the core of her being. She had gone back in time to a point frighteningly close to Aidan’s execution. She wasn’t meant to stop Ian’s murder, but she was surely meant to stop Aidan’s hanging…wasn’t she? For there was no point in redeeming a man slated for death.
    Before she could think further, he had her face in his hand. He’d tilted her chin up so that their eyes locked. “Ye can tell me about my hanging later.” And he strode from her