The Laird’s Dark Obsession

Prologue

Has life always been so beautiful?

Kira wondered to herself as she made the leisurely walk to the stables.

Life at the Barclay Keep seemed so different from the world of gray, strict rules, and fearful sneers that she was accustomed to.

Even the staff of Rory Barclay smiled and laughed all day as they joyfully went about their tasks.

And while she had only been there for less than a fortnight, it felt like the land itself was blessed by God.

It had been sunny every day since her arrival, and spring was in full bloom, scents of new blossoms filling the air, and the wind made music of rustling the new, green leaves on every tree.

The grass truly was greener on the other side.

Rory was waiting for her just outside the stables, a boyish grin on his face as he spotted her. Rory was ten years her senior, but she would never know other than the couple of fine lines around his dark blue eyes and a couple of gray hairs appearing in his thick raven mane.

He was a good Laird, loved by his people and cherished by his family, but he was young at heart. More often than not, one could find him wandering about, getting into some high jinx, telling a terrible joke, or simply daydreaming on a hillside.

Life will be good for me here. He is a gentle and kind man. What else could I ever ask for?

“My dear wife,” Rory greeted as she neared. “Goodness, ye get more beautiful by the day.”

Without giving her a moment to respond, Rory took her hand and held it above her head, twirling her before pulling her into his side. Kira giggled lightly and tucked a white-blonde hair behind her ear.

“I’ve nae been here long, M’Laird. And I am nae yer wife yet,” she pointed out.

“And yet yer beauty grows exponentially. Truly, a marvel to have such growth in such a short amount of time. I may have to keep a closer eye on ye, in fear that greater minds will snatch ye for scientific study.”

Kira smiled and it was genuine. Rory would have never been her first choice in husband, only one held that place in her heart, but he truly was charming. And by the day, she found herself starting to accept with less hesitance that she was going to have a good life there as Lady Barclay.

“Be careful with yer words, My Laird. I might get accustomed to such sweet words,” she retorted, the smile still on her lips.

His dark blues shimmered in her direction. “Then I shall double my efforts to make ye adjust to them with even more haste.”

Rory took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on the back of her palm and as he did so, Kira searched herself internally.

Did he fill her with fire?

Was there even a spark?

Perhaps that was for the best, as the flames of desire had only scorched her in the past. Instead of looking for those flames, she should look for Rory’s affection to be cooling waters that felt as familiar as the brooks of her homeland and as welcoming as the rain in summer.

As he pulled back, he added, “I am so grateful that yer faither accepted my proposal for yer hand. I cannae help but wonder why he accepted mine, of all offers.”

Kira’s smile faltered, but she tried to keep it on her face. “Can it nae be that he saw the promise of a bright, young Laird?” she challenged.

Rory gave her a look that said “be serious” though his lips were still smiling. Her eyes fell to the ground beneath them. She liked the light banter between them, it reflected their surroundings and what she hoped life would be like now.

But he wanted her to look into the dark, gray past to give him an answer.

“My faither, in all his flaws, wants me safe. After the Clan Galbraith accident, he’s gone mad.

He thinks every shadow holds assailants and every whisper is a conspirator plotting his downfall…

And so, having one of his most valuable pawns in the hands of a trusted ally is better than in the perceived chaos of his surroundings.

” She lifted her gaze to look at him momentarily, a sheepish expression sliding over her features.

“He must have seen something in ye that made him feel confident and safe.”

And like ye’ll bend if he ever demands something from ye.

Kira pushed those thoughts away and kept her focus on Rory—on her present. There was no telling how her past would alter the future, but she knew that the present felt good and she wanted to savor that.

Rory offered her a reassuring smile and another kiss to the back of her hand that lingered a few moments longer than the last. “I hope to give ye the same feeling. The feeling of safety and the confidence to trust in me.”

Kira’s smile was genuine again and she brushed an auburn hair from his face before she dared to kiss his cheek.

Just feels like skin. Nothing burning. My heart isn’t racing. This is how it’s meant to be. Calm, sweet, reassuring.

“I hope the same,” she told him.

Rory was all smiles and hesitance, wanting to stay by her side even though a stableboy was calling him over, letting him know that the stallion was prepared.

The Laird gave her a wink before he hoisted his wiry frame over the wooden fence and entered the corral.

In the center of the confinement was a black stallion with a rope tied around its snout.

The beast whinnied and kicked as the staff struggled to restrain it.

Rory approached with open hands and a gentle voice, but the horse wasn’t calmed.

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 on him. 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 another glance, 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 the promised 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.

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 for those 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.”