Page 52 of In Bed with a Highland Beast

“So,” he said, “I suppose there is somethin’ ye wish tae tell me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Alaric sat there, shocked to stillness. Even his mind was blank, unable to process everything he had heard.

He had always known Lucia was hiding certain truths from him. He had always known she was lying by omission, but the weight of her lies was much heavier than he had ever thought they could be, and it all circled back to her brother.

“Ye were with the Ravencloaks this whole time?”

Alaric’s voice was weak even to his own ears as he spoke. The betrayal was too much for him to bear, the wound too fresh and raw, though he didn’t know if it would ever heal. This had all been his mistake from the start, he supposed. He should have never trusted Lucia. He should have never trusted a woman he knew was lying to him and he should have known better than to think she could love him when all she was after was revenge.

He was nothing but a tool and he had given everything up for her. He had ruined a perfectly good alliance between the MacGregors and the Sinclairs for a woman who had never truly loved him. Not only that, but he had also put his clan in peril. For all he knew, Clan Sinclair would be seeking their own revenge soon, once they found out what Alaric had done.

“I didnae say that,” Lucia said, though it wasn’t entirely a denial. She was still standing in front of him, her head bowed and her gaze glued to the ground, never once daring to look up at Alaric. Her voice trembled as she spoke and that was enough to send a pang of pain through his chest, but he did his best to ignore it, to push any feeling aside. It would only make it harder for them both, showing weakness at such a time. “I was helpin’ Ronan. Nae one in the Ravencloaks ever kent who I was. The few who met me only met me when I was wearin’ a mask.”

Ye always wear a mask… I dinnae ken who ye truly are.

“Ye kent me braither was in the Ravencloaks,” Lucia continued. “Ye kent that already. An’ ye kent what kind o’ man he was.”

“But I didnae ken about ye,” Alaric pointed out. Lucia had never revealed to him that she had helped her brother with strategy and attacks until now, that she was operating from the shadows of the organization. Even if Ronan had been the only one to know, that didn’t lessen the blame that fell on her shoulders. How many people had suffered because of her? How many people had died?

And how much had she helped Callum with his plans to collude with the English, even unknowingly?

Alaric didn’t know if he could ever forgive such a thing. He, too, had hurt his fair share of people, but they had all been enemies of his clan. Who had been the people hurt by Lucia’s plans, he wondered? What kind of people did her brother target?

Innocents, many o’ them. That is certain.

“Nay. Nay, ye didnae,” Lucia said, her voice dropping to a whisper. Alaric soon found that he couldn’t even bear to look at her, even as she was clearly plagued by guilt. Every time he glanced up at her, more bile rose to the back of his throat, sickening him. His stomach was tied in knots, his chest ached, his eyes burned; nothing but rage and regret flowed through his veins. No other person had ever made him feel like this before and the feeling was as unwelcome as it was startling, though there was something undeniable, something which made him realize the depth of his true feelings for Lucia—it was only possible to feel this betrayed, this hurt and broken if one loved the source of this grief beyond anything else.

Alaric sprang off the bed, pacing in front of it for a few moments. It wasn’t only the countless lies Lucia had told him; it was everything else they had shared. It was the fact that she had let him fall for her, even going so far as to claim she had fallen for him. It was the fact that she had let him ruin his life for her and risk his clan and everything he held dear just because he was in love. For all her claims that she cared for him, how could Alaricbelieve it now that she had entirely shattered the illusion of trust they had shared?

Because that was all it was, he thought; an illusion, nothing but smoke and mirrors.

He couldn’t take it anymore. With a few long strides, he walked right past Lucia without another word, slamming the door behind him as he left the room.

Then he came to a sudden halt. There was still so much he wanted to tell her. The need to pour out everything that was on his mind was too strong, even if he knew that his words would hurt them both. How could he walk away when Lucia had wronged him? How could he forgive and forget?

Did she even care, he wondered? Was her regret real or was it simply another mask that she had donned just so she could get away with everything she had put Alaric through?

With a decisive breath, he grasped the door handle and threw the door open once more, heading back into the room. Once again, he slammed the door shut and Lucia flinched at the sound, though Alaric had never seen her so skittish before.

A part of him, no matter how small, couldn’t help but feel bad about it.

“What were ye thinkin’?” he demands, his eyes wild and full of rage. “Why would ye dae this tae me? Why would ye ruin mebetrothal? Dae ye ken what damage ye have done tae me? Tae me clan? All because ye wished tae have yer revenge? Ye could have done it on yer own, could ye nae? Ye could have found Callum on yer own an’ killed him if ye so wished. Ye were always a part o’ the Ravencloaks.”

“I wasnae,” Lucia said in a small voice, shaking her head vehemently, but Alaric hardly listened.

“But nay. Nay, ye decided tae use me an’ ye had nae regard fer the consequences I would have tae face,” he continued, as though Lucia had never even spoken at all. “Ye tricked me intae thinkin’ ye loved me just tae use me as a tool tae get what ye wanted. Are ye proud o’ yerself? I hope it was worth it, Lucia, I truly dae.”

It was then that Lucia met his gaze for the first time since the beginning of their fight. For the first time, too, Alaric saw that her eyes were shining with unshed tears—tears which then quickly began to fall, carving paths down her cheeks.

“Ye’re right,” she said, voice breaking into a sob. “Ye’re right. I used ye an’ that is terrible o’ me. I have nay excuse fer what I did, what happened tae ye when ye were abducted just fer me gain. Except that I didnae ken ye. But all that changed when I fell in love with ye, Alaric. That wasnae a lie. Itisnaea lie. Naethin’ else has mattered tae me ever since I fell in love with ye, an’ I wished tae tell ye the truth, I really did. I kent what it would mean fer us but I also kent ye deserved tae find out everythin’ I have done, how everythin’ started. Please… please believe me when I tell ye I never meant tae hurt ye. I didnae think we would… I didnaethink I would have these feelings fer ye or that ye would have them fer me. I thought… I thought we could keep our distance.”

That was hardly a good enough excuse as far as Alaric was concerned. Nothing Lucia could tell him could make him feel any better, especially not when she was so blatantly telling him that she had, indeed, been using him. It was one thing to know it and another to hear it from her own two lips, admitted so brazenly.

Her guilt was obvious, hanging heavy in the air between them, but that wasn’t enough. It meant nothing to Alaric. It only proved that Lucia wasn’t entirely heartless, but that didn’t lessen the sting of her betrayal.

Still, seeing her so broken, crying for the first time in front of him and allowing her emotions to show, stirred a certain sadness within him, a terrible, uncomfortable weight in his stomach that told him he was wrong for not even listening to what she had to say. He still cared about her, no matter how much she had hurt him, he still wished to comfort her, provide her with a shoulder to cry on and tell her that everything would work out in the end. However, his rational self knew he had to keep his distance.

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