Page 25 of In Bed with a Highland Beast

Taking a deep breath, Lucia steeled herself for what was to come. With the most despair she could muster, she called, “Alaric! Alaric! Let him go, please! Dinnae hurt him!”

As she screamed, she shuffled closer and closer to Alaric, following the sound of his voice and the contours of his body once she was close enough to touch him. Thankfully, the men allowed it, and Lucia could hear them snicker quietly over them, as though they found the situation amusing. Vile as that was, it suited her just fine. The more they laughed at them, the less seriously they would take them as threats.

Once she was close enough, she laid her head on Alaric’s shoulder, sobbing quietly a few times just to make sure they would think her desperate. Then, she whispered Alaric’s name in his ear, so quietly that she feared even he wouldn’t hear it.

He did, though. He flinched a little, surprised by the low tone of her voice and the proximity. Now Lucia had but one chance to warn him.

“This is a trial,” she murmured.

That was all she could risk telling him. For a moment, the two of them lay there, both panting, both trying to get over the pain, before someone grabbed Lucia again and tore them apart, tossing her to the side.

Lucia lost track of time. The questioning continued for what seemed like hours and so did the torture, the men coming up with increasingly creative ways to inflict them maximum pain with as little damage as possible. But through it all, both Lucia and Alaric remained silent, sharing nothing with their captors.

A part of Lucia was surprised by Alaric’s strength. She had never thought him weak—if she had, she wouldn’t have sought out his assistance in the first place—but to endure so much torture for a revenge that was not even his own startled her. Then again, he probably feared the same thing as Lucia: if they slipped, they would be killed. The Ravencloaks would not allow them to live if they proved to be traitors, even if they knew virtually nothing about them.

Then, just as Lucia thought her body could take no more and was on the verge of unconsciousness, there was a strange lull. Not only did the torture stop, but so did the voices, a silence falling over them in the dark of the night.

Someone yanked the hood off Lucia’s head. She blinked, trying to take in her surroundings in the low light of the torches, and saw all the Ravencloak men there, surrounding her and Alaric. All of them bore the same grin, satisfied and even proud.

When she glanced to the side, she saw that Alaric’s face was a horror. His left eye was swollen shut, his lip was cut in multiple places, and blood covered his skin and beard. From the horrified look on his face and the fact that her entire face and body throbbed with pain, Lucia could only assume she didn’t look much better.

Dragging her gaze back to the men, Lucia spotted Callum pushing his way through the crowd to stand before her and Alaric. He looked down at them, observing them both for a few moments, and then his lips split into a grimace of a grin.

“Congratulations!” he said, clapping his hands together in excitement. “Ye’re now both Ravencloaks! Lads, get them their cloaks.”

As Callum spoke, two of the men rushed to Lucia and Alaric, draping black cloaks over their shoulders—the very same ones as everyone else in the gang wore. Lucia released her breath, relief washing over her.

It was over, for now. She had gained their trust and so had Alaric, and the only thing between her and her revenge was time.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Alaric snatched his head away from Lucia’s grip, hissing as she applied a salve that stung over the wound on his forehead. They had both been badly beaten and Alaric’s entire face throbbed and ached, his head feeling heavy on his shoulders. All he wanted to do was sleep, but Lucia had been adamant they had to clean the wounds first and make sure they wouldn’t be infected, otherwise all their effort would have been for nothing.

When he pulled back from her, she gave him an incredulous look. “Are you a bairn? Come here, let me clean the cut.”

Alaric rolled her eyes at her, but no matter how much he wanted to point out that the salve stung and Lucia was not particularly gentle with the way she was applying it, he remained silent, gritting his teeth through the pain. He would not be accused of being weak just because of this when he had just endured so much torture.

“How did ye ken?” Alaric asked, looking at Lucia in the soft light of the fire. Everyone else, save for those who guarded the perimeter, had already fallen asleep, and it was only the two of them by the fire, nursing their wounds.

Alaric knew Lucia must have known exactly what he meant, but she still asked, “How did I ken what?”

“How did ye ken it was them an’ nae an enemy?” Alaric clarified impatiently. “How dae ye ken so much about brigands an’ their tactics? How da ye ken all this?”

“Ye’ve asked me afore,” Lucia reminded him. “An’ me answer is the same. I have met many men like them in me life.”

“Aye, perhaps,” said Alaric, “but that doesnae mean ye should ken how they operate. How would ye ken if ye’re nae a part o’ the group?”

Lucia gave him a sharp look but said nothing as she moved to another cut, this one on his cheek. The man who had dealt that punch must have been wearing a ring, Alaric thought, as he had felt the sharp sting of it and his skin had been cut open.

Bastards! It’ll take weeks fer me tae heal!

It would take Lucia weeks, too, he knew as he gazed at her mangled face. A bruise the color of deepest wine had already formed over her eye, her lip was swollen and bleeding, and her wrists and ankles bore the marks of those men’s hands. They hadbeen brutal with them both and he hated the thought that Lucia was in as much pain as he was.

He had failed her. Logically, he knew there was nothing he could have done to stop this, but logic didn’t matter when Lucia was sitting in front of him, wincing with every move.

Through it all, though, she didn’t make a single sound. She had never once screamed while being tortured, save for when she had performed for the men, shouting Alaric’s name and begging them to leave him unharmed.

That was some performance. Is it truly this easy fer her tae lie? Tae pretend?

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