Chapter One
The Scottish Highlands, October 1617
"You cannot force my sister to marry you!" Kristina MacQueen yelled at Blackburn MacCromar, a hulking warlord with long black hair. Candlelight glinting off the metal studs in his leather armor, he stood beside her sister, Suzanna—or Anna, as she was better known—in the small chapel before a priest.
Dark brows lowered, Blackburn glowered at Kristina. "Shut your mouth, bitch!" Lunging toward her, Blackburn slapped her face so hard her neck wrenched. The pain exploded and she stumbled backward.
"Nay! Leave her be!" Anna grabbed onto his arm.
Holding her stinging cheek, Kristina clenched her teeth and glared at Blackburn. Anna was pale, weak and thin, barely recovered from all the blood loss she'd suffered when she'd lost her babe at seven months… after Blackburn had shoved her down the stairs. Only months before that, Blackburn had slain Anna's husband, Chief John MacCromar, and taken over as chief.
Now, tears trailed down Anna's face and she appeared ready to collapse.
"Father, how can you perform this ceremony?" Kristina demanded of the priest. "She already refused to marry him. He murdered her husband in cold blood!"
The priest merely stared down at his prayer book as if he didn't hear a word she said.
"Don't let her move from this spot," Blackburn murmured to the guard he'd placed beside Anna. He then turned toward Kristina and pulled a dirk from the scabbard at his belt.
"Don't touch her!" Anna shrieked, trying to free herself from the guard.
The long blade flashed in the candlelight. Terror striking her like a sharp icicle, Kristina dodged backward, but Blackburn's second-in-command, Red Holme, blocked her escape. Blackburn pushed her against the wall. The rough stones dug into her back. His fingers bit into her chin as he restrained her. With his other hand, he held the knife close to her face. "You listen to me, wench," he hissed. "You will keep your mouth shut during the ceremony or you will find yourself dead. Do you understand?"
"Kristina, please be quiet," Anna begged, her face wet with tears.
"Aye, you'd best listen to your sister," Blackburn said.
Her heart hammering, Kristina clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes. Equal parts fear and rage stampeded through her. If Anna married him, they were both as good as dead anyway. "You can't force a woman to wed you. 'Tis illegal!"
"She will agree to the marriage." Blackburn smiled maliciously.
Kristina glared past Blackburn to the priest. Was he a man of God or an imposter? "Please help us, Father. I beg of you! This man is a murderer!"
Blackburn's fingers tightened, nearly crushing her chin. "I warned you," he seethed.
She kicked and struggled against him. He held her firm and sliced the blade down the left side of her face. She screamed at the searing pain. When she yanked away from him this time, he let her go. Blood poured from the cut on her cheek and drenched her hands.
Anna's screams echoed until they were muffled.
"Hold your knife to her throat," he ordered Holme.
Before Kristina could escape, the beefy man pinned her arms to her sides, near squeezing the breath from her, and placed his blade against her throat. The sharp tip pricked the skin of her neck but 'twas naught compared to the devastating pain lashing her face.
"I like you, lass, but I always follow orders," Holme growled into her ear.
Was she going to die this day? The gash on her face was deep, several inches long, and it bled profusely.
"You will marry me, m'lady," he told Anna, "Or I will order your sister's throat slit."
Kristina coughed and gagged against the blood entering her mouth from the wound and forced herself to breathe. Nausea flooded her stomach and the sharp pain in her face was near unbearable.
She wanted to gut the bastard, and the one holding her too, but she was no match for Blackburn, Holme and the eight large guards he had stationed inside this chapel. She and Anna could not best Blackburn now. But if she lived, she would kill him.
The ceremony continued. Though Anna was crying and the guard had to hold her up, she finally said, "I do."
After he kissed Anna, sealing the hell-hated vows, Blackburn told the guard, "Carry my wife back to the keep." Blackburn approached Kristina. "I told you she would agree." He smirked.
"Bastard!"
