Page 49 of A Fearless Rebel

Keithen with his barely-there smiles and beautiful body, had, for a short time, made her feel wanted and given her a sense of belonging.

Now because of her foolish actions, he was suffering or dead and there was nothing else she could do for him.

Chapter Fifteen

The damp frigid dungeon walls permeated through his beaten body and it relieved some of the pain. Keithen wanted to move closer to the wall, but it was impossible to gather the strength.

More surprising than the relief from the cold was that he still lived. After passing out the last time, he’d come to and found himself hanging by his arms in a room just outside the dungeon. Two men had taken turns beating him, lashing him, and finding creative ways to torture him until he could barely breathe. Just as he’d been about to lose consciousness, Keithen had been convinced he was about to die.

Waking on the dungeon floor had been surprising. Taking shallow breaths because it was impossible to breathe deeper, he lifted his head and looked around. There was no one there. The guards had been so convinced of his inability to move, they’d not bothered to close the cell door.

They were right. Even if he managed to leave the cell, the thick door out to the courtyard was closed and that would be impossible to breach.

As far as he could tell, his left leg was possibly broken and the throbbing of his right shoulder signaled it was displaced. Whatever else was wrong, Keithen decided was not worth taking inventory.

Although there were slits that allowed for feeble amounts of sunlight in, along with a lit torch, it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. From his calculations, it had to be one day later.

Alastair Mackenzie had pronounced he’d be hung the following day, so it was to be his last day living. Keithen grunted and attempted to swallow past his parched throat. Death was not something he feared. At that point, hanging would be the least painful of what he’d gone through since being captured.

It was good that his mother and father would not be present to witness it. They probably had no idea where he was at the moment.

Had he told anyone? The stable lad would have probably been questioned. If the lad told anyone he’d gone after Ava, then perhaps Frasers would be arriving soon. He prayed his father stayed behind. As much as he wished for a familiar face upon death, he would not ever wish for his father to have to witness it.

A mouse scurried close to him, sniffed at his clothing and nibbled on the bloody edge. Keithen watched it for a long time, wondering how long the rodent had lived there. It actually surprised him that only one had appeared since he’d been there and awake. He’d thought the Mackenzie would have a dungeon full of prisoners and rodents. Instead, the dank place was riddled with spiderwebs.

They’d not bothered to put straw down for him as he was not expected to be imprisoned for long. In actuality, Keithen was more than ready for the guards to come for him. Better to know one’s fate than to remain without knowing, beaten, thirsty and hungry.

He closed his eyes and imagined Ava. Just the night before, he’d held his wife and been grateful for their marriage. As much as he’d avoided feeling something for her, he’d begun to look forward to time alone with her. Like a young lad, he’d done things to get her attention. Light touches, kisses, and even volunteering to help with her dress ties.

At night, she often stayed awake longer than he did. He knew this because her movements woke him sometimes and he’d catch her looking up at the ceiling, seeming to ponder things.

“What are ye thinking of?” he’d asked her once. She’d smiled softly.

“How grateful I am to be here in this moment. Sometimes, I wish for time to stand still when we are here in bed together where it is safe.”

He’d kissed her and gone back to sleep. Now, he wished he’d have stayed awake and spoken more about her thoughts and dreams. The fact he’d lost an entire year by sending her away weighed heavily on him. Although the decision had been his father’s, Keithen hated to have humiliated her in such a horrible manner.

Ava was kind, caring, and beautiful and now would be widowed. If there was one reason not to die, it was that he wasn’t sure what would happen to her. Hopefully, the Mackenzie would allow her to remain. If so, would he demand she marry again?

Anger surged at the thought. He would be the second husband killed by her family. Ava was treated like a pawn and now she was once again left to fend for herself.

Keithen prayed his father would offer her asylum, but he doubted it. If anything, his family would blame his death on Ava.

He allowed sleep to claim him and prayed for a quick end to the day.

Footsteps woke Keithen and he tried to sit up, but barely managed to push up from the floor. His head hung down and he took several breaths, gearing for straightening up. In his estimation, it would be easier and less painful if he was sitting and pulled to his feet than if lying flat.

Finally, he managed to sit and groaned when bolts of searing pain surged down his leg and shoulder.

“Ye look well rested,” a guard said with a chuckle.

Another grunted. “Did they say to feed him?”

“No, just to get a look at him and let them know if he’s living or not.”

The first guard neared, and Keithen braced for what would come. The man grabbed his hair and tilted his head up. “Looks alive to me.” The guard then slapped him across the face so hard, Keithen fell backward onto the ground and cried out in pain from the jostling to his leg and shoulder. “Aye, he’s alive all right.”

The men laughed.