Niall looked to the balcony, where Innes had risen, moving to stand at Adaira’s side. He was waiting for her permission to kill her son. Jack had to lean on the balustrade, suddenly worried the laird would recant. Innes stared down at them. The marks in the sand. The sword that reflected the stars. Moray’s flushed cheeks and wide, desperate eyes. Innes sighed, a sound woven with years of bitter sadness. The very heart of defeat. But at last, she nodded.
