His features were so strikingly defined that she was reminded of the painting her father had had done of her mum about a year before she died. The artist had captured her features to perfection and that too was true of the Dark Dragon. It was as if an artist had painted him to perfection, for all his lines and angles blended perfectly. He wore his dark hair severely drawn back and tethered at the nape of his neck and not one scar marred his sun-kissed skin.
There was something in his captivating dark eyes that held Heather’s attention and would not lether look away. What it was, she could not say, but it nagged at her and refused to let go, and she silently reminded herself not to let evil rob her of her good senses.
She should be relieved that he was not difficult to look upon, but she was not. She was upset, for at first glance she had felt a twinge of attraction and that had not pleased her at all.
He kept his eyes on Heather for a moment as if with his helmet removed, he could take the whole of her in, and she shivered at his close scrutiny.
He turned his head abruptly away from her and looked to her father. “With the Clans McLaud and McDolan hungry for war, I will remain close. I have land, a small keep with a few crofts surrounding it. It is but an hour’s journey from here. I will settle with my wife there to help avert this brewing war.”
“The small McCombs holdings belong to you now?” Donald asked.
The Dark Dragon confirmed with a nod.
“I am grateful you will remain nearby for the time being,” Donald said.
“What choice do I have when the murdered body of Greer McLaud’s wife has been found on your land? Greer is sure to accuse you of killing her, giving him the excuse he has been looking for to start a war with the Clan Macinnes.”
“This marriage will change many a clan’s mind of whose side they will fight on and hopefullyprevent a war from starting and countless lives from being lost,” Donald said.
“Make no mistake, Macinnes, lives are lost well before clans declare war. It is the way of greedy men.”
Heather was impressed by his wise words, perhaps he was not the barbarian many claimed him to be.
The Dark Dragon turned to Heather with a look that could wither the staunchest of souls and said, “I have granted you this one favor. Do not ask for another. We leave now.”
Hope sank with his words. He would command and she must obey. It would be the way of things from this moment on.
He slipped his helmet back on, and then held out his glove-covered hand to her.
Once she placed her hand in his that would be it, she would belong to him. There would be no escaping him. She wanted to run screaming from the keep but knew she could not. Fate had dealt her another heavy blow. She was a fool. She should have realized by now that life was harsh and would always be so, but she had hoped. Hoped with all her heart that true love would conquer all. But it was not to be.
She reached out and accepted her fate. His hand grasped hers not firmly, but possessively, the strength of his grip letting her know that she belonged to him and that he would never let her go.
Emma cried out as the Dark Dragon led her sister out of the Great Hall, “We will visit soon.”
The Dark Dragon stopped and turned. “You will visit your sister only when I give permission.”
His words sent a chill through Heather. She was not his wife; she was his prisoner. He rushed her along so fast that she felt as if her feet barely touched the ground. That was when she realized that he had slipped his arm around her waist and lifted her ever so slightly as they walked. Another chill sent a shiver through her. If his one arm held such strength, how strong actually was he?
The thought turned her legs weak, and she feared they would no longer hold her. His arm suddenly tightened around her waist and she was lifted, the ground gone from beneath her feet, though her feet continued to move as if she could still feel it.
The sun blinded her eyes as they stepped out of the keep and though the sun’s warmth settled over her, it did not chase the chill that continued to run through her.
His ghost warriors had formed a circle around them and only parted when they neared his stallion.
Heather could not help but feel helpless just as she had the moment the ghost warriors had abducted her. Only this time it was much worse. Then she had hope of being rescued, for she knew her sisters would come for her. No one would comefor her now. The frightening thought sent her stomach roiling.
His hands went to her waist and with one lift he hoisted her onto his black stallion and mounted behind her. His arms circled her as he took the reins to turn his horse and she had only a moment to catch sight of her family on the top steps of the keep, her sisters waving frantically to her before they disappeared from view.
With a gallop they rode through the village, his men on either side of them and before she knew it they had crested the rise. Her home would be out of view soon and she longed for one last look. Not thinking, only aching to catch one last look of her family, she took hold of his forearm and pulled herself forward, careful not to lean too far forward since she sat sideways in front of him and could easily slip off.
She could not see past the leather spikes on the leather armor strapped to his upper arm, so she gripped his forearm tighter and leaned out a bit farther.
Heather yelped when he yanked her back and shoved her in the crook of his arm.
“Stay put. You will fall.”
“I only wished to see my home one more time.”
