Cain felt his lips twitch with humor, the fire in her voice and her cleverness pulling it out of him despite the grim circumstances. “My mother was not in favor of those particular names. They are a bit lengthy, so she and my father chose biblical names. Joshua was a great leader of battles, and Gideon was a warrior but also a judge. Da felt that Bàs was appropriate for the fourth, and without our mother’s influence, since she was dying, he named him so.”

“How can naming a newborn bairn Death be appropriate in any way?” she asked, her gaze sliding back to the youngest, who still wore his battle mask.

“My mother was my first execution,” Bàs said, his voice an even whisper, his hands fisted.

“She died giving birth to him.” Cain finished the explanation. Certainly, she had heard the tale before. Their father had spouted it throughout the Highlands, his grief for his angelic wife turning to rage against the living.

Ella’s gaze slid across all the brothers to land on Cain. She cleared her throat. “I was not saying that I choose to wed Death.” She glanced toward Bàs. “But that I choose to be executed over being wed to any of you.”

“Foking harsh, lass,” Joshua said. “Choosing death over surrendering to one of us.” His grin turned wicked as his gaze drifted over her leisurely, making Cain’s fists tighten. “Ye might find being bound to a Sinclair quite…fulfilling.” He arched his brow over his carnal suggestion.

“She is wedding me,” Cain said, stepping in front of Ella. “No one else, for I am the chief.”

“I said I choose execution,” Ella said from behind him. She stepped back out, giving him a hateful look before turning to the others in the room.

Joshua nodded to the maids who had come to wash their father’s body, and turned back to Ella. “Surely, pledging your heart to one of God’s warriors would be better than the cold, dark grave.”

“The chief of God’s warriors,” Cain restated.

Ella stared straight at Cain. “Not when wedding means giving Dunrobin Castle and all of Clan Sutherland to the Sinclairs.”

“It will happen regardless,” Cain said. “Either peacefully through uniting the clans or through smashing your castle walls and slaughtering your people. Would you not sacrifice yourself to save their lives?”

She narrowed her eyes, the hate in them as sharp as a newly hewn blade. “Of course I would if I thought they would accept your rule without a fight. My wedding a Sinclair will not make them lay down their weapons and accept you as their chief. As their chief, their blood will be on my hands either way.”