Page 12 of The Laird's Dark Obsession

Edine seemed to soften further and began reflecting on how Kira had taught her to knit when all of the maids had failed to help her grasp the concept. The conversation ebbed and flowed easily. There were tense, awkward silences but Kira savored those too.

At least she was there and that was enough for Kira.

She was nearly in his reach.

All of the Highlands burned outside of the castle, and the blood of all who stood in his way was splattered across his tartan sash and his white blouse.

Just a sheer canopy separated them. Hunter drank in her form, seeing the supple curves as she laid on her side. Kira lifted slightly.

“Who is there?”

He couldn’t see the details of her or her expression, but he could hear the panic in her voice.

“It’s me. Hunter.”

There was a beat of silence and then she said, “Are ye here to save me… or end me?”

He reached for the veil, his fingertips brushing against the silky fabric. He could smell her at such a close distance. Floral notes of peonies, and a cloak of fresh air that always clung to her from all the time she spent outdoors. It was a smell that was as home to him as the smell of rosemary and tobacco.

Every sense of his felt heightened, alert—alive.“Nay, princess,” he chuckled darkly. “I’m here to keep ye.” At last, he pulled back the curtain, only to find the woman gone.

No curves, no wide eyes looking up at him with anger and fear, no Kira.

Hunter jerked awake, his hand outstretched as though he truly was reaching for her. Sitting up in his bed, he groaned and placed his head in his hands. Frustration and disappointment mounted in his chest. Even in his sleep, he couldn’t escape Kira. His obsession felt undeniable in that moment, in the wake of devastation that he had woken up before he could touch her even in his dreams.

It had to be some sort of divine punishment. Punishment for being nothing but vengeance and sin wrapped in flesh. Because as much as he longed for her, he truly did despise her at the same time. And the more he longed for her, the more he hated her—and the more he hated her, the more his heart ached and called out for her.

It was as vicious as it was sinful.

If he were a smart, more pragmatic man, he would abandon revenge, set her free, and devote his free time to healing all of his wounds on his own. But where was the satisfaction in that?

Getting out of bed, Hunter washed his face and dressed on his own. He relished the silence, recalibrating himself to be who he was outside his bedchamber. By the time that he was heading out into the corridor, he felt more like himself, a version he recognized. The strong, stern Laird who conquered in battle and decisively ended squabbles between his people. The man who kidnapped his betrothed to use in a scheme against her father— not the man who woke up shaking in anger and sadness over that same woman.

And yet, like a bee to the hive, Hunter found himself heading for her door. He hadn’t the slightest clue what he was going to do. Truthfully, he didn’t have any other plans for her but to keep her there until she could be used in his plot. But the temptation of her being so accessible… he couldn’t resist. It was as though he were back in his dream but only this time, he knew she would be there when he pulled back the curtain.

Besides, he was an emotional man when it came to her. He was certain that it wouldn’t take much effort for him to come up with some questions to interrogate her—or to make her squirm.

When he reached her door, however, he had to hold in physical signs of annoyance at the two guards’ faces. They were long, puppy dog expressions that told him Edine was inside that room. It was a simple equation to piece together and solve, considering his men were capable and competent. Had Kira snuck off or been hurt, word would have traveled to him. Edine was his other soft spot, and mishandling her would invoke unpredictable reactions from Hunter.

His jaw clenched and he braced himself to sentence Edine to her bedchamber until Kira was gone from the Keep. And yet, as he reached for the door knob, the calm chatter on the other side of the door gave him pause. Leaning his ear toward the wood, he tried to make out the words from within. The voices were too soft to make out exact words, but the tones were pleasant enough and there was even the occasional giggle.

He let out a sigh of relief, glad that Edine wasn’t putting his plan in danger. With that, he took a step back with the decision that he would let them finish their conversation. For some reason, he felt a little embarrassed to be just outside while they had a private conversation. Needing to distract himself before wondering why that was, he shifted his attention back to the guards and gave them each a light slap up the side of their heads.

“Eejits,” he muttered. “The least ye two can do is send word as to what was going on. Even if ye let it happen.”

The two said in unison, “Apologies, M’Laird.”

He rolled his eyes but internally, he still understood. His men didn’t fear enemies on the battlefield, but he wasn’t known to respond in kind when someone offended him over Edine or Kira. There would never be a greater price to pay than for that. And he knew the onus was mostly on Edine for putting his men in that difficult position.

The sound of feet nearing the door broke him from his thoughts. Hunter jumped back another step in a last-second decision to stay out of sight from the door.

“Take care,” Kira said sweetly to Edine.

“Ye as well,” Edine replied with a light smile.

The door closed and as Edine turned to leave, which made her face him, he clasped a hand over her mouth to silence any reaction before it could sound from her. Pulling her down the corridor and away from Kira’s room, he ignored her muffled protests. Turning a glare her way as a silent warning, he waited for her to let out a sigh of defeat before he uncovered her mouth.

A finger jutted in her face in the next instant. “Dinnae be changing sides, Edine. Never forget what that woman has done to our family.”