Under the smudges of dust, Ella’s face was turning crimson with her anger. “Most of Scotland thinks the idea of you four being sent from God, to destroy mankind so we can be judged, is insane.” She sucked in a quick breath. “You four are ruthless barbarians, stealing and killing and…and looking at me…at us with disgust when you should look that way at yourselves every time you see your reflection.” By the time she reached the end, her generous bosom was rising with agitation.

Gideon had looked ready to talk over her but stopped when Cain signaled him. Cain tipped his head slightly. “Disgust? When have I looked at ye with disgust?”

She took a step closer to him, her pretty white teeth bared. “Years ago at the Beltane Festival south of our territory.”

Cain’s eyes widened. She remembered their first meeting?

“You think we are all beneath you, midges to be crushed,” she said, fisting her hand in front of his face.

Cain caught her fist. It fit neatly in his palm. He held tight as she tried to jerk it away. “I do not want ye to be crushed, and I am not disgusted by ye. Who has told ye these lies?”

She wet the edge of her lips as if they’d gone dry, the small movement pulling Cain’s memory of the way she’d tasted in the tree kissing him. He released her fist, and she yanked it next to her leg but leaned forward like a hissing cat.

“I have seen you look on me with disgust, and you lay siege to any clan who stands against you, taking their castle and lands. What else is that but crushing?”

Conquering was not crushing. In fact, Cain disliked the idea of killing good people who could unite with the Sinclairs, adding to the talents and strength already under his leadership. “I will conquer unequipped and weaker clans, helping them by uniting them with our strength so that we can build a stronger Scotland,” he said evenly. “And I do not remember ever looking at ye with disgust.”

She crossed her arms under her breasts and straightened. “You did.” As if weary of the debate, her voice dropped, and she looked past him toward the hearth. “You, Cain Sinclair, are hollow like that white knight over there on the chessboard, empty of goodness, only a player on a battlefield. Perhaps you were born without a soul or perhaps your crazy father killed it in you with all his bellowing of fanatical ideas.” Her gaze came back to him. “But if you do not release me and leave my clan alone, I will know that you are truly hollow of feeling and honor inside.”

Gideon shifted, his voice low. “The pieces are actually not hollow, but solid wood, so they won’t fall over easily.”