Movement caught Keeley’s eye and she frowned, leaning forward to focus on the figure laying atop the stone skirt behind the gathered crowd.

What was he about? What could he be doing?

The sun caught something in his hand and reflected, a quick shimmer, but it was enough for Keeley to see the crossbow cradled in his arms.

She surged to her feet and yelled loudly. But the drums continued to beat, faster and louder. She screamed but it was lost in the wind and then she began to run, sure she would never be in time. She wasn’t even sure of the target. The king was present. Ewan was there as was Mairin.

All she knew was she had to issue a warning to all before it was too late.

The drums echoed fiercely in Alaric’s ears. With each beat, the dread in his heart increased until it was all he could do to breathe.

He glanced down at his and Rionna’s joined hands and then up at the beauty of his bride. Aye, she was beautiful. She would make a good wife. She would give him fine sons and daughters. She would be a credit to his leadership of her clan.

Then he looked to his brother, who stood with Mairin on one side and their king on the other. His brother who had sacrificed much over the years to ensure the survival of their clan. How could he not do the same?

He closed his eyes. Oh, God, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t go through with it.

The drums stopped abruptly and the silence was so keen in the moment following that it was startling. Then he heard a scream. His name.

Rionna jerked around right as he did the same. Just in time to catch Keeley in his arms. Her eyes were wide with shock—and pain. Her mouth opened and then shut and she gasped, her face going white.

For a moment he didn’t know what had occurred, but he heard the horrified screams behind Keeley. He heard the unmistakable sound of swords being drawn and then a shout went up.

Yet all he could see was Keeley’s pain-stricken face as he held her in his arms, and then as she sagged, he saw the arrow protruding from her back, and he knew. The knowledge of what she had done struck him so hard that he staggered and his knees buckled. He sank to the ground holding her against his chest.

“Keeley, nay! Nay! Why did you do it? Oh, God, Keeley, nay. Nay. Nay.”

It came out as a sob. He didn’t care. He had no pride. No shame. Her face was ashen and she had the look of death in her eyes, the knowledge he’d seen in any number of other warriors’ faces as they were struck down in the heat of battle.