Chapter 2
“Who are ye? What do ye want from me? Where are ye takin’ me?” Leana demanded.
Just because she had stopped screaming didn’t mean she wasn’t fighting; she was just doing it differently.
She looked around, hoping that a crooked tree trunk or a particularly colorful rock would guide her through the forest when the time came to escape.
She also questioned her attackers, looking for a flaw in their armor or some sign of weakness. But the two men, as spare in their words as they were brusque in their actions, were merely herding her like a sheep.
Leana began to feel uneasy. She didn’t know where or to whom they were leading her, but the situation did not look good. Her heart was pounding with fear.
“Where are ye takin’ me?” she asked again, but she only received a grunt in response.
Obviously, they were determined not to give her any clue as to their intentions. But if they thought Leana Beaton was a gentle lamb, they were very, very wrong.
She waited as they climbed a slope, and as soon as the soggy ground made the man in front of her stumble, she pushed him forward, causing him to fall face-first into the mud.
There was her opportunity—it was time to flee.
The second man screamed, but Leana ran into the forest. She was fast, and they had made the mistake of not tying her feet, only her hands.
Her disadvantage was that she didn’t know this forest half as well as her captors did, and that meant she was caught again a few minutes later when she found herself face down on a steep slope.
“Ye’re as slippery as a rabbit,” one of the men said in a thick accent that suggested he was probably a hunter or a merchant who often spent time away from villages and towns.
“And I’m as deadly as a wolf! Let me go, or I’ll make ye sorry,” she snapped.
Neither man listened to her. They just gagged her, and this time they took the precaution of carrying her over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Her new position, with her dark hair falling to the ground, only made her more upset. She was scared, of course, but her anger was far greater. She kept struggling and kicking at the man, who grunted and groaned at her insistence.
Eventually, she decided to calm down—not because she was afraid of upsetting them enough to be attacked, but because she needed to conserve her energy.
She needed to come up with a plan if she was going to escape.
However, her captors did not give her much time to analyze the situation. A short while later, they came to a crossroads.
The path, not as well-used as the main roads connecting the villages, looked like the kind of road used by hunters. The man who had been carrying her over his shoulder finally released her—although a bit roughly—dropping her on the muddy ground, and her teeth chattered at the impact.
She was unhurt, but her ego was clearly bruised. Her hair was all over her eyes, her face was smeared with mud, and the anger reflected so perfectly in her orbs could have set someone on fire.
Instinct made her want to fight again, but then she looked up, searching through the rain and thicket for the reason they had stopped. Only to find a man standing in front of her.
But this was no ordinary man.
For a moment, Leana thought that he was no mere mortal, but rather a god incarnate. And then, ironically, she thought of her captors as little renegades of the forest, perhaps captured to carry out some strange command of their master.
For the dark-haired knight with the mysterious aura could not be just a man. It was as if the King of the Underworld was standing before her.
“Is this the lass?” he asked in a deep voice reminiscent of thunder and crumbling rocks.
“Aye, me Laird,” the two men replied, almost simultaneously.
“Hmm,” he grunted, taking her in.
Leana closed her eyes and clenched her teeth in annoyance. She hated the way his voice made her feel, and even more so considering the situation.
One would think that she would feel instant revulsion toward her captor, but her body betrayed her. There was something about this man, with his coal-black hair and silver-grey eye, that made her feel unbalanced and vulnerable.
Control yerself, Leana. He is the kind of man ye should run from.
But the warning was in vain, for her body seemed not to respond to reason—and that overwhelmed her.
It was the first time in her life that a man had managed to arouse such thoughts.
Perhaps it was his shoulders, proudly squared as if he owned the air he breathed and everything around him, or perhaps it was simply his unyielding gaze.
Of course, her body’s reaction only served to smother her anger. She felt scared, and annoyed. And she didn’t know what the man planned to do with her. Why had he sent his men after her?
“Good. Prepare the horses. We will leave at once,” he commanded.
The two men hurried to obey. It was obvious that they did not want to risk the wrath of someone who had the presence of the Lord of the Night himself.
But Leana was not an easy nut to crack, and as the mysterious stranger bent down to her, she held his gaze. She shivered, not with nerves or cold but with the strange sensation he elicited within her—which made her grateful that he could not hear the pounding of her heart.
“Hold still,” he commanded in that imperturbable, authoritative voice. “Or I will keep ye gagged until I reach me destination.”
Leana obeyed, not because she felt any particular weakness for his orders, but because she wanted to be free of the gag.
That didn’t stop a shiver from racking her body, strong enough for him to feel it, as his fingers moved to the back of her neck. One of her eyebrows rose as she gave him a challenging look.
As soon as the gag was out of her mouth, she asked, “Who are ye, and what do ye want from me?”
It was not a mere question, but a demand. A lesser man might have reacted in some way to her gall, but the stranger maintained an imperturbable expression.
“Ye are Miss Leana Beaton,” he replied in a matching tone, ignoring her question.
“Who wants to ken?” Leana asked immediately.
For a moment, she could have sworn she saw a smile on his face, but the next second, she thought she’d imagined it all. The movement was fleeting and slight enough to make her think so.
Instead, she was distracted by the large, strong hands coming close to her face. Her heart was pounding, but no longer in fear.
She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly by the waist, preventing her from doing so. His touch was delicate, as if he was holding something precious between his fingers, but firm enough that she wouldn’t stand a chance if she struggled.
Still, she tried, but he was determined. He held her, placing his fingers firmly on her chin, forcing their eyes to meet.
His gesture caused in Leana a reaction that left her confused and annoyed her further.
“Who are ye?” she repeated, her tone a little softer this time but no less firm.
Instead of answering, the stranger brushed a damp strand of hair from her face, and the contact sent another shiver down her spine.
She felt the moment stretch out between them, unsettling her. The look in the man’s good silver eye rooted her to the spot, for his face was crossed by an eyepatch, which, contrary to expectation, only added to his allure.
“Do ye have all yer supplies and medicines with ye?” he asked.
“Do ye require the services of a healer? Is that why ye kidnapped me?”
“I dinnae kidnap ye,” he assured her blandly.
“I daenae agree. And the way yer men have treated me, neither should they.”
“If they mistreated ye, I will punish them,” he threatened, his voice icy. “I ordered them nae to force or hurt ye.”
“They werenae exactly kind, but they didnae hurt me either,” Leana huffed.
“Alright.” The man released her from her bonds.
They both stood up, but even though she was free to move again, he was staring at her so intently and standing so close to her that she knew she could not—and should not—run away.
“Tell me what ye want from me,” she demanded.
The way he looked at her, searching her from head to toe, sent her thoughts scattering. She knew that look—it was charged with desire. Or so she thought.
But perhaps she was imagining it. In truth, she wasn’t sure. He was as unyielding as steel, and the heat in his eye disappeared so quickly that, in the end, she was once again convinced she had imagined it all.
Instead of answering, the man commanded, “Come with me. The horses are waitin’.”
“Nay,” she declared, planting her feet on the ground. “Ye will tell me yer name first.”
“Ye’re brave, bonnie lass.”
For the first time, the stranger raised an eyebrow at her. But he didn’t seem annoyed by her insolence. On the contrary, Leana suspected he was somehow enjoying the situation.
“Speak,” she pressed.
“All right, I’ll tell ye because ye obviously daenae ken who ye’re dealin’ with.”
“If I did, I’d ken who to complain to about this impertinence,” she shot back, crossing her arms.
Leana was not afraid to be impertinent, though she had been warned many times that her bad temper would one day land her in trouble. But she was upset, wet, and sore, and she just wanted answers to her questions. She had no intention of losing without at least putting up a fight.
The man approached her. “Very well then,” he said.
Although she was tall, she had to tilt her head up to see the silver glint in his one eye. The shadows that created strange and unexpected illusions on his beautiful, godlike face.
“Me name is Kenneth Sloan.”
As soon as his words registered, her heart raced even faster than before. For, of course, she knew that name. In fact, she’d heard stories about him just a few hours ago.
Kenneth Sloan, the feared Pirate Laird. The demon who roamed the villages, terrorizing the masses. He was her captor. And as much as she hated to admit it, he was far more attractive than she had expected.