Page 67 of The Mad Highlander
Iris scoffed and turned away in anger before turning back to face the Laird. “How is that supposed to make me feel better?” Her arms were flailing now. “Yer tellin’ me the only family I have has betrayed me and Ashton, and that he is nae even clever enough to come up with the idea himself. He’s a traitor, and he’s weak. And I fell for it all. Is that what ye are tellin’ me?” Iris felt her cheeks warm. She couldn’t stop now. “Ye want to tell me that me whole life has been a lie?”
Caden reached out and took her wrists before she hurt herself. It only enraged her more, but she couldn’t get out of his grasp.
“I ken this is hard to hear, but we don’t have time for this. Yer cousin is comin’ whether ye like it or not, and we have to be ready.”
“If what ye are sayin’ is true, then it means he doesnae care at all about me or Ashton,” Iris said.
Cayden loosened his grip a little on Iris as she started to lose vigor.
“Aye,” he replied.
“And that he will happily see us dead if he has not come for us first.”
“Aye,” Cayden repeated.
“Nay, I dinnae believe ye. Unhand me, please. I dinnae want to talk about it anymore. Ye can get ready for yer war, but ye willnae see Tristan, and when this is over, well…”
“Well, what?” Cayden asked.
Iris looked into his eyes, into the eyes of the man she had fallen in love with, and didn't know what she would do. She wanted to spend her life with him, but how could he say such things?
“I need to be alone,” Iris stated, pulling her hands away.
“Be on yer own,” Cayden told her. “I dinnae care what ye say to me or what ye think, I’ll still protect ye.”
Iris’ insides turned to jelly at the words, and she longed to leap into his arms, but everything was too confusing. She knew her cousin, and he was not the man Cayden talked about.
“I need some time to think,” Iris said before turning and storming off.
28
Two days later, Ashton woke up properly, and Iris was by his bedside when he did.
He blinked his eyes open as he had done many times before and licked his dry lips. Iris reached for the small cup of water by his bedside and brought it to his lips, giving him a little at a time as Astrid had instructed her. He coughed as he swallowed the first amount and then swallowed some more.
Iris placed a hand on her brother’s forehead. For the longest time, it had alternated between being hot and cold, but it only had some warmth to it now. She took her brother’s hand and tried to soothe him.
“Yer fine, Ashton. I’m still here with ye.”
“Ye were in me dreams,” Ashton replied. “Ye’ve been in them for the longest time. Ye stood before me with a sword, ready to fightoff the darkness.” His voice was weak, but it was the most he had said since being rescued.
Iris looked into her brother’s eyes, and they were not swimming this time. He looked at her intently.
“Ashton?” Iris asked.
“Aye, I’m here. Help me sit up, will ye? I feel so uncomfortable in this position.”
“How are ye feelin’?” Iris asked. “Do ye have any pain anywhere?” She dug an arm underneath him and pulled him up toward the head of the bed, and he pushed with his legs.
Ashton shuffled the rest of the way up into a sitting position. “Nay, I feel fine. I feel like I could eat a horse, and me throat feels like I havenae had anythin’ to drink in a week, but apart from that, I’m fine.”
“Yer awake,” Astrid said from behind. “Keep him talkin’, Iris. I’ll fetch him some ale to drink.”
“Ye’ve really come back to me?” Iris placed her hand on her brother’s cheek.
“Aye, I’m back. I’m nae a ghost. Yet, if I were, I would still come back and haunt ye.”
Iris leaned down and hugged her brother softly. “I thought we had lost ye. When Tristan told me ye had been taken, I thought ye would be killed.”
