Page 112 of Ruined By the Ruthless Highlander
His words soon faded away, drowned beneath her sadness as she mourned the loss of the only family she had thought she had.
All her life, Marian had held on to the hope that her mother would someday love and accept her. But that hope was gone now, leaving only a deep void in its place.
Suddenly, Edmund’s hands closed around her shoulders, jolting her back into the present.
“You can still mend things, Marian,” he said, his voice low, controlled, and far more dangerous than before. “Marry the Laird and bring him under my control. It would be considered a great service to our family, even if it is the last thing you do.”
Marian blinked. The cold evening breeze drifting from the window dried the tear on her cheek as she looked at her uncle closely, and for the first time, she truly saw him.
She saw the hollowness behind his icy blue eyes. The hollowness of a man who would strip everything of value and call it duty, because he had no value in himself.
There was no point in reasoning with such a man.
She shook her head. “You will not force me to betray him. Glen Carrick belongs to Clan MacLeod, and I will not steal what is theirs for the sake of your greed.”
Edmund stepped back. He moved behind the table and picked up the small leather case he had brought with him.
“If you will not be useful,” he said quietly, dropping the case on the table with a clatter, “then you are simply in my way.”
Marian’s heart lurched. She straightened, looking at him as he loudly ripped the case open.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Her eyes widened as he pulled out a length of thick twine and rolled it between his hands. She stepped away from the table quickly. Too quickly.
Pain flared at her side where she had struck the table earlier, and she gasped, her hand instinctively pressing against it.
Edmund smirked, his lips curving into a pleased, wicked angle. “I had hoped not to kill you, niece,” he said almost thoughtfully, as though he were discussing a minor inconvenience. “Your mother was quite clear that it should be avoided… if possible.”
He took a step toward her, his footsteps quieter now than they had been earlier.
“But if you refuse to cooperate,” he continued, his gaze fixed on hers with malice, “then I have no other choice but to dispose of you, so that she can become the rightful heir.”
Marian’s blood ran cold. It wasn’t an empty threat. She knew as much as she watched him tighten his grip on the twine.
His face contorted in a cruel, crooked smile as he stalked toward her, closing in faster than she could make a run for the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Marian’s mind raced.
She glanced at the door quickly, estimating the distance to it with her eyes.
A few yards. Too far.
Her gaze flicked back to Edmund. His steps were hurried now, loud against the stone floor as he closed in on her.
She knew that she could not possibly reach the door in time to escape him. Not with her injury.
Her eyes widened as he stretched the twine taut between his hands, his thin lips curling into a sinister smile.
“Please,” she said, hating the tremor in her voice but unable to stop it. “Uncle, please?—”
Edmund smirked, releasing a sharp, rough breath. “Begging won’t help you now, niece,” he drawled, his words twisting her heart with cold dread.
His face contorted into a cruel, crooked expression, and she lunged for the door, barely thinking about it. Her movement was quicker than her body could handle in its current state.
Pain shot through her side where she’d struck the table, but a desperate surge of strength drove her forward, stretching her further than she’d thought possible.
