Page 2 of The Laird's Dark Obsession

Kira watched with dull eyes as Rory struggled to calm the horse. From her understanding, it had recently been captured in the wild and was meant to be Rory’s next prized stallion— if it could be broken.

And yet, while she watched her timid and gentle future husband try to coax the horse, her thoughts were once again onhim. The boy to whom she had been promised to since infancy but never needed such a vow to have her heart.

His light-brown hair that always fell into his hazel eyes, his serious face that only seemed to brighten at all if he was in the presence of his mother, dessert, or Kira. And he had never struggled with breaking a wild horse, the wildness in him speaking to their free spirits.

Hunter Galbraith.

The boy she had been promised to the moment she was born and yet had never made her feel like an obligation or a task. He had been her protector, her friend, and her morning star for every single day of her formative years and she had been his moon.

It was all in the past, though. That same boy with the serious face and warm heart now hated her with every fiber of his being. And this realization was always the bitter, acidic aftertaste to the sweetness that was remembering him.

It was always unsettling to think about Hunter—the man who was once her present and future but was now firmly in her past.

Rory was her future and by the looks of life there at Barclay Keep, that future of hers was bright and filled with happiness and light.

Rory was finally on the back of the wild horse and she gave a laugh at how proud he looked even though the horse was bucking and running around in hopes of throwing him off.

“It seems ye will be occupied for a bit!” she called over the horse’s protests. “Might I go for a ride myself?”

Rory replied with a nod and a smile as he continued to rein in the animal. With that, Kira excitedly turned toward the stables. The staff was friendly and helpful just as expected, assisting her in picking a horse that was friendly to new people. The speckled mare welcomed her with nothing more than a pet on the snout before the stableboy assisted Kira onto its back.

She held the reins in her hands and tasted something she had never truly gotten so much as a lick of.

Freedom.

Rory trusted her without even a reminder to stay within the grounds or sending a warrior to accompany her. He had trust in her and his land, and that was a sort of beauty that Kira never thought she would see.

At first, she brought the mare only to a trot. And then, after she was used to being on the horse alone and in control, Kira kicked the horse into a full gallop.

Emerald hills moved all around them in a blur as the wind whipped around her face. Her heart unwound from a fist that had formed in her chest throughout the years. It didn’t totally unclench, but it loosened. Here, she was trusted, she was as free as a Lady could be, and she knew she would be cherished like all other things in Barclay.

She rode the horse hard, embracing all the new feelings and finally accepting her new fate. She would no longer look to the past and only look toward the future that awaited her there in Barclay.

Movement in the trees caught her eye. Were there more wild horses in Barclay? It would be a surprise to her then that Rory wasn’t so skilled in handling them. When she spared anotherglance, she did see the heads of horses breaking through the treelines but men were on their backs.

They were riding towards her at top speed and her brow furrowed as she tried to make out their faces. Were they Rory’s men, coming to warn her of some danger? Before she could determine anything more, arms wrapped around her torso and pulled her hard.

“Let go of me! Let go!” she screamed.

No response came other than grunts and muttered curses.

“Get yer hands off me!” she spat.

There was a frenzy of arms, horses whinnying, and her own screams. She tried to get a good look at the men’s faces as they dragged her away, but none were even a little familiar to her. Her mind jumped around, detail to detail, until the men were all just a blur of scruffy beards and furrowed brows.

She clawed at their arms and kicked her legs fiercely. It was to no avail, their calloused hands muffling her screams before a rag was shoved into her mouth and her wrists and ankles were held still until they were tied with rope.

Then, she was hoisted onto the back of a horse as though she were a sack of barley. In an instant, the horse was kicked into motion. Through the jostles of the horse, Kira strained against her binds and she watched, dizzy and still overwhelmed, as thepromised land of Clan Barclay grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

I should have known a life like this was nae meant for me.

And even with her internal musings, something inside Kira wouldn’t let her simply give up. She writhed, kicked, clawed at her bindings, and screamed into the rag until her throat went dry and ached.

They rode for what felt like hours, but the sun staying well above her head let her know it hadn’t been. When they finally came to a stop, Kira’s mouth was unstuffed with the cloth and then she was pulled from the horse. The man who carried her pushed her to the ground until she was on her knees.

Hands left her and then, Kira was alone, staring at the ground. Her heart was pounding in her ears, waiting for a blow to the head or something worse to come her way.

A shadow cast over the grass she was staring at. For a moment, she flinched, ready for the violence that was coming her way. But then, a familiar scent captured her. Leather, smoke, and the earthy, somewhat floral scent of rosemary.