Page 3 of The Laird's Dark Obsession

She knew who it was before she ever lifted her chin.

When her lapis eyes moved upward, Kira took in a figure that was more shadow and vengeance than man. If it weren’t forthose brown-green eyes that gleamed with schemes far beyond her grasp, she wouldn’t have recognized Hunter Galbraith.

His lips curved into a vicious grin as their eyes locked. “It’s been a while, my bride.”

1

Annoyance, fury, or sorrow—Kira couldn’t decide which emotion was the most dominant stuck between Hunter’s arms as they rode on his horse.

The familiar scent ofhimandhomeattempted to pull on her heart strings, but to no avail. She couldn’t be swayed by nostalgia when the life that was offering her peace and contentment was miles behind her and growing ever more distant.

Hunter’s chest was hard and warm, and even without laying a hand on him, she could tell that every muscle was tense and unyielding from their rigid stance. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he was tense because of her—having to hold someone he loathed as much as he did.

She didn’t have any idea what he was planning for her fate, but she knew that it wouldn’t be kind or gentle. Instead, it would be full of cold vengeance, which she assumed he had meticulously planned out and would want her alive to see it through. It was the only reason he wasn’t riding her to the nearest cliff and simply tossing her into the sea.

Or, perhaps that was exactly what he was doing. She didn’t have any sense of direction in the woods, so they very well could be riding to her gravesite right then. Anxiety pulsated through her body, finally turning on her survival instincts. She strained against his arms, trying to free herself from their strength and memories.

“Be still,” he hissed. His arms tightened around her and his thighs squeezed her hips so that she couldn’t move so much as an inch.

“Let go of me. Now,” she ordered. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, knowing that she should have made the demand long ago. It had been too shocking, too all-consuming to be face-to-face with Hunter again.

He said nothing, and the horse kept galloping forward. She tried again to move against his stern hold, but she felt her own muscles tiring before he ever so much as flinched. Kira dug deep within herself, grabbing hold of her anger through all the shock and confusion that came with being kidnapped by her ex-betrothed.

“What do ye even want from me? I have nothing for ye, Hunter. I havenae any power or leverage, or even gold of my own. I have nothing ye could possibly want—”

Icy laughter filled the air around her, the sound coming from deep within his belly and roaring from his mouth. Her cheeks heated more, embarrassed by the fact her earnest words had invoked such a reaction.

Then, there was hot breath on the shell of her ear. “Ye have taken everything from me, Lady Kira. And I will return every wound ye helped carve into my heart all those years ago. So dinnae sell yerself short,” he said, the final words almost a purr in his ear. “Ye have the most valuable thing of all to me: retribution.”

A shiver forced its way down her spine. She couldn’t be certain what he meant by that, but if she dared to use her imagination… Well, being tossed into the sea would be merciful in comparison.

Any more requests for freedom were silenced in her throat before ever reaching her lips. All she would do was provoke him—and she deserved some of it, but she wasn’t going to tempt fate by prodding at his righteous anger.

They rode for quite some time until they finally arrived at an all too familiar sight, a place that was etched into the foundations of her childhood: Galbraith Keep. It was a much more angular, darker castle than most of the fortresses of the day. As a child, the structure had reminded her of a black cat with its aloof, dark elegance. But right then, it looked more like a toothed trap used in hunting with its pointed towers and slanted roofs.

When they passed through the gates, memories attacked her senses. The hill that Hunter and Kira rolled down after breakfast as young children and the maids screeched after them not to dirty their attire. The sound of hooves on cobblestone, as she had heard frequently in her upbringing when they came to visit; and back then, it had felt like the thumping strides had matched her erratic heartbeat.

And the smell of rosemary that seemed to always cloak the entire Keep. The late Lady Galbraith had despised insects and had each path, entry, and garden bed lined with rosemary plants to deter the creatures. The scent was synonymous with Galbraith Keep to all who visited.

These weren’t memories for her to reflect on fondly anymore. She had given up that right six years ago. And it was proven to be the case when they approached the castle stairs and the servants looked at her not with the affection they once had but glares filled with contempt.

Hunter pulled her off the horse effortlessly. She stared at all those who hated her most in the world and a castle that was as foreboding as it was tender in her heart. Kira couldn’t shake the feeling she would never leave there alive if she stepped foot inside.

He shoved at her back, willing her forward, but Kira’s head was shaking vehemently from side to side. She used all of her might to keep her feet rooted to the ground.

“Release me. Release me, Hunter! Dinnae do this!” she shouted. Only, her anger and fear gripped her words in a way that they came out more like a command than a plea.

With a huff, Hunter snagged her wrist in his grip and forced her to come with him up the stairs. Step by step, she fought against his strength, her toes ramming into the stones and her heels scraping against their edges. He was too strong, too rugged by life and training while she was kept soft and weak as a Ladyshould be. She wasn’t any match for him and she knew that before she ever so much as wrestled in his grasp. But no matter the faults and certainty she held in her character, Kira could not simply go quietly into her death.

With a final tug, she was inside the Keep, bombarded with the portraits of the Galbraith ancestors and paintings that Hunter’s mother loved and had told her all about in great detail. She wasn’t but a foot inside and the ghosts of her past were already haunting her. Even if Hunter merely kept her as a caged pet, she would go mad there and the Galbraith Keep would be the end of her.

“Please! Hunter! Let me go. I beseech ye to listen to reason.” As she finally managed to put desperation instead of command into her voice, he faced her with narrowed eyes and a scowl.

“Go on then, give me a reason,” he challenged.

Her mouth hung open, stupidly. Truthfully, she had been speaking out of panic instead of logic and when she searched her mind for a reason he should let her go—one beyond morality—she couldn’t find any. Heshouldhate her and whatever came with that was the price she had to pay for past mistakes.

Still, she had to implore him to think twice, to consider mercy even if she didn’t feel deserving of it. Kira reached for the fist that kept her wrist so tightly tucked away when a thin line of red caught her attention.