Shoulder the Skye (Skye Druids #2)(41)
Author: Donna Grant

 

Elias blinked, quickly hiding his flash of surprise. “What?”

 

“Why haven’t you asked me how Beth got here?” she repeated. Bronwyn was shaking, hating herself for what she was about to do. But if anyone could blow up a potential friendship—or more—it was her.

 

He slowly straightened. “Because it doesna matter.”

 

“Oh, but it does. You want to know me? Then let me tell you the type of person I am. When I finally got to talk to Beth, she laughed off my fears. She told me I was deluded and that she loved Sydney. They were to be married, you see. As she turned to walk away, I knocked her out. It took some doing getting her into my car, but I did it. I drove straight to Skye. She started to wake when I was dragging her into the manor, so I knocked her out again. You see, Elias, I’m the kind of woman who kidnaps her cousin forcefully and puts her between dimensions against her will.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

 

 

 

 

Elias had guessed about Beth when Bronwyn hadn’t given him details for how she’d gotten to the manor. He hadn’t asked questions because he hadn’t wanted specifics. Now, he stared at Bronwyn, unsure how to respond. He knew she was trying to shock him, attempting to repulse him so he’d leave.

 

What he saw was a woman who had hurt for so long she’d lashed out to protect herself so no one could injure her again. He wanted to walk around the table, drag her into his arms, and shelter her from anyone and anything who dared to do her harm. She had stood on her own for so long. Her strength, the way she endured alone against the world, battling anyone and anything that rose against her, made him admire her even more.

 

Only someone who had felt the lash of injustice and the cruelty of the world could see it in another. And he saw it clearly in the woman standing before him, daring him with her mesmerizing hazel eyes to turn on her and go back on everything he had said. It was what she wanted, what she expected.

 

And he was going to prove her wrong.

 

“Nothing to say to that?” Bronwyn demanded with one brow arched.

 

To a passerby, she looked wholly capable of doing anything. No doubt she could—and would. While he doubted she’d call him a friend, she had bared her secrets to him. He saw the cracks and chinks in her carefully placed armor as well as the trepidation that remained as her constant companion. She did a valiant job of hiding all of it, at least to those who didn’t bother to look too closely.

 

With her wounded soul and raw, festering emotional scars, the woman before him needed a friend. Someone who would stand with her no matter what. Someone who wouldn’t let her down. Someone who loved and accepted every bit of who she was.

 

His heart hurt for the anguish she couldn’t hide from him. As much as he wanted to protect Bronwyn, she didn’t need that. She was too strong and independent. No, what she needed was someone to stand with her, beside her. Someone she could lean on and trust.

 

“I guessed,” he finally answered.

 

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Her hazel eyes narrowed dangerously, the copper becoming darker. “You guessed?”

 

“I’m no’ excusing your kidnapping, but I know you thought you did the right thing.”

 

“I did the only thing I could. You don’t have a clue who Sydney is or what he’s capable of. He turned my sweet, innocent cousin into someone I didn’t know. He twisted her.”

 

The anger in her voice didn’t stir his. He recognized that Bronwyn was looking for a fight, but he wouldn’t give her one. Too many had formed their own opinions and didn’t mind spilling their vitriol when it came to her.

 

Bronwyn shook her head as she snorted and looked him up and down with disgust. “Can’t you see what I am? Or do you fear saying anything because of what I might do to you?”

 

“I doona fear you, lass. You’ve a lot of pent-up anger inside you. Years’ worth is my guess. The people on Skye, your people, our people, turned against you. No one bothered to ask what happened to you or your father. No one offered to help.”

 

Bronwyn tried to maintain her anger as she looked away, but not before he saw the torment in her eyes. He fisted his hands, hands that wanted so badly to hold her, to comfort her. To tell her he understood. Because he did. Probably better than anyone.

 

“Don’t,” she said, her voice, barely above a whisper, cracking slightly. “Don’t you dare make it out as if I did the right thing. We both know I didn’t.”

 

“I’m sure some would happily condemn you. Some would praise your actions. The simple truth is that sometimes it isna between right and wrong when we’re faced with a decision. I’ve found it’s more like deciding between bad or worse. We make the best choices we can in the moment.”

 

Her head swiveled back to him. She regarded him with clear eyes devoid of feeling. He was careful not to show her pity. He suspected that was the last emotion she would welcome.

 

“There’s still time to fix things,” he told her.

 

One brow quirked as she tilted her head to the side. “Is there? What would you suggest?”

 

Her soft voice didn’t fool him. She still sought a fight, still needed to lash out. “Release Beth.”

 

“So she can return to Sydney?”

 

“We’ll talk to her first. Perhaps we can convince her what kind of man he is.”

 

“And if we can’t?”

 

Elias shrugged. “We keep trying.”

 

“All the while keeping her against her will. How is that different than what I’ve done?”

 

It wasn’t. Fuck. “Then we let her go.”

 

“I see.” Bronwyn’s smile was forced and held no humor. “Shall I tell you what she confided that caused me to take such drastic measures? One of the Druids in Sydney’s crowd worked at an assisted living facility for the elderly. The Stewart bloodline has always gifted us with a magical ability. Beth was no different. She can get into someone’s mind, though she had to be touching them to do it. She had gotten a job at the residence home, and they were planning to get certain individuals to sign over their money, lands, and property to Sydney in new wills. Those people would then die a short while later—in a way that looked natural when it was anything but—before their families could discover what happened.”

 

“Bloody hell,” he murmured.

 

“Beth was on her way to that job when I confronted her.”