“Jaime? Can you hear me, lass?”
“Help me, Malcolm.” She ran toward the sound, suddenly aware that she was calling out. She felt for her mouth, lips, teeth. She cried out again, stumbling over her torn skirts as she moved on toward his voice. “Where are you, Malcolm?”
Edward answered from behind her. “You can never get away from me, wench. Never.” She heard the whistling sound, felt the cold wind of his sword cutting through the air. The blade tore through her hair, nicking the skin at the base of her neck.
“Here, Jaime. I’m here. Just reach out, lass. Take my hand.”
“I cannot, Malcolm,” she screamed in fear. The feel of blood trickled down her back. “Malcolm!”
“You must be punished, adulteress. w***e!”
“Malcolm!”
She saw the pane of glass straight ahead, and through it, the outline
