Innes’s eyes riveted on him. “Moray acted without my permission. His fate is of his own making.”

Derek drew his sword. Adaira felt Torin grab her arm and haul her backward as Innes responded, unsheathing her blade. The laird was quick; the firelight flashed on the steel as she effortlessly dodged Derek’s cut, granting him a mortal wound in return.

Adaira watched in cold numbness as Derek gasped, falling to his knees. The blood poured from his neck, staining Mirin’s rug, as he succumbed to the floor.

“Are there any others who defy me?” Innes taunted, looking at Moray’s warriors. “Step forward.”

The Breccans were still, watching Derek breathe his last.

Adaira could hear Frae crying in the corner, and Jack’s hushed whispers as he comforted her. She stared at the pool of blood on the floor, wondering what sort of life awaited her in the west.

“I agree to your settlement, Adaira,” Innes said again. With one hand, she held her sword, but she stretched out her other. Speckled with blood and waiting for Adaira to take it.

“You don’t have to do this, Adi,” Torin murmured. His grip on her arm was like iron.

“No, but I want to, Torin,” she softly replied. She wasn’t sure where her home was anymore. She wasn’t certain where she belonged, but she knew she would find her answer once she had beheld the west. The land of her blood.

Torin reluctantly released her.

Adaira stepped forward. She held out her hand, but just before her palm could touch Innes’s, she said, “I would like for there to be peace on the isle. If I come with you into the west, I would like the raids on Tamerlaine lands to cease.”

The laird studied her with eyes that suddenly looked old and weary. Adaira wondered if peace was only an illusion, and if she was naïve to still hope for it.

“I can make you no promises, Adaira,” Innes said. “But perhaps your presence in the west, where you belong, will bring about the change you dream of.”

It was the best answer Adaira could have expected in the moment. She nodded, and her heart quickened as she took her mother’s hand. Firm and strong, scarred and lean.

Years had been lost between them. Years that could never be regained. And yet who would Adaira be if she had never left the west? If her birth parents hadn’t surrendered her to the forces of the isle?

She caught a glimpse of herself, marked in blue and blood. Cold and sharp.

Adaira shivered.

Innes noticed.

Their hands fell away, but the world had changed between them.

The laird’s demeanor was collected as she looked at Moray’s warriors. But Adaira heard the catch of emotion in Innes’s voice when she said, “Return the lasses to the east.”

Chapter 28