Chapter 6 #2
Kira shrugged. “I suppose there’s nae a way for ye to be certain that it’s nae a trap. But it’s nae. As I told Calum, my loyalty remains with myself, nay one else. So I’ll tell ye whatever ye want to ken, if it helps me get out of this room.”
“Ye would betray yer faither like that? So easily? Just for some time outside?” he inquired, his eyes narrowed.
“I’d sell my faither’s soul for a stale piece of bread if given the opportunity—but sadly, I dinnae think he has one,” she said plainly.
Her throat ached as emotion gripped at her, pulling her back from her detached state. The words she would say next were true and mere facts of her life, but she knew that they would weigh heavily on the ears receiving them. Because of who she was and what was done.
“I dinnae love my faither, Hunter. I never have.”
He rolled his eyes and began to turn away from her, but she reached for his hand to keep him near. Kira had to get these words out while she had the gumption.
“What I say is the truth, which I understand is hard to accept. But that man has made me a walking corpse, Hunter. I’m rotten from the inside out.
That’s what silence brought on by fear does to a person.
And I hate myself for never being brave enough to overcome it. I should have fought for myself, for…”
You. The word hung, unsaid in the air between them.
Hunter wiped at his face, clearly agitated by her words. Kira had always been a coward, especially when it came to her father and she would never forgive herself for not telling her truth to Hunter all those years ago.
Perhaps he would still hate her once he knew.
But at least if he had known, he would understand. She was sure that in his mind, she was reduced to a mischievous villain who had played with his heart all those years only to betray him in the end.
There was so much to tell him, but she knew right then wasn’t the time. Not when he was still looking at her with such suspicion. It would fall on deaf ears, and she wasn’t willing to dig up her childhood just to have it dismissed coldly.
Hunter stared at her, seeming like he was truly drinking in her words. With her hand still on his, she reached out for him in her heart, begging him to believe her. And for a moment, she swore something softened in his face.
“I dinnae believe ye,” he murmured. Though, he sounded less sure than before. “Ye’re only trying to manipulate me to get yer way.”
Kira let go of his hand before throwing her arms up in exasperation. “Then why did ye come in here to get information from me if ye’re nae going to believe anything I say?”
He sneered and looked away. “I dinnae have to explain myself to ye.” When his gaze returned to her, he looked disgusted. “How am I to believe ye’re anything but a traitor? Look at ye. Ye’ve been promised to me since birth and yet here ye are, reeking of yer latest victim.”
He was looking at her dress and accessories. Kira shook her head. “I have nae done anything to Rory.”
“Laird Barclay,” Hunter growled. Clearly, he didn’t like her even sounding close to another man. “And ye surely have. Did ye nae say ye’re an evil and audacious woman? Who would adorn a woman in such fine clothes and trinkets if they kenned she’s evil?”
Kira shook her head as she gawked at him. “Hunter, ye sound absurd.”
“Nae as absurd as my betrothed being dressed in the attire of her adulterer,” he spat. With a bark toward the door, two maids appeared. “Remove all the Lady’s tartan and jewelry. She’s nae to be dressed in anything nae of the Galbraith Clan.”
Kira’s eyes were wide and she backed away. “What is going on? Why do ye care about my clothes right now? We’re meant to be talking about information on my faither.”
Hunter nodded and eyed her. “Aye, but I cannae think about trusting a word out of yer mouth when ye’re dressed as another man’s bride.”
“Why does it matter? What do ye possibly think I’ve done to Laird Barclay to equate my trustworthiness to my betrothal to him?”
He was in her face then, his searching hers deeply.
“Ye still dinnae grasp the concept, Kira. Ye are mine. Ye always have been, always will be.” His fingers sifted through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear before lingering down the side of her neck.
“These clothes are a reminder of yer betrayal to me, to allow yerself to be promised to another,” he answered with a snarl on his face.
Then, he leaned in so that his mouth was at her ear.
Each breath against her skin made shivers roll down her spine.
“And let me make this very, very clear. While ye are in my Keep, ye will wear what I say to wear. Yer attire will match mine. Yer tartan. Yer jewels. Even yer scent must be similar to mine.” He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of her neck.
Kira was overwhelmed by his closeness at this point, feeling as though even a deep inhale would make them chest to chest. And it was difficult not to get lost in his rugged beauty. His angled cheekbones, his defined nose, the fullness of his lips.
“My scent?” she whispered. “How is that possible? Do ye want me to use yer perfume oils?”
A dark chuckle rose from the back of Hunter’s throat. Then, he took an audible inhale. “So, Laird Barclay has nae had ye yet. Ye still smell the same as ye always have.”
Kira’s eyes went wide and she shoved at his chest to make him back away from her face. “That is none of yer business.”
“Ye’re mine, Kira. It’s always my business,” he said with a smirk pulling her close to him again, though his eyes were dark and dangerous. “And I hate others messing with what is mine.”
With that, he turned on a heel to leave. Kira called after him. “What about my time outdoors?”
“Our conversation is over until ye’ve been changed, and I’ve yet to get anything useful from ye,” he said plainly.
And then, he was gone.
The two maids who remained came closer, and Kira clutched at the necklace around her neck.
It had been a betrothal present from Rory, a bloodstone on a gold chain.
She wasn’t exactly fond of it, nor did she feel attached to it or the meaning behind it.
But in that moment, it took on an entirely new meaning.
Her clothes and jewels were all she had that remained of those brief weeks she had been at the Barclay Clan—the only time in her life she had been close to freedom.
And they were being stripped from her, just like her freedom, and replaced with Hunter Galbraith.