Page 102 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

"Fine," he conceded. "But if Torquil so much as breathes wrong⁠—"

"Ye'll be the first tae ken. I promise." James's expression softened slightly. "She's safe, Lachlann. Malcolm and Finn are outside her door, and we've got guards on every approach tae that wing, includin’ under her window. Naethin's gettin' tae her taenight."

The reassurance helped more than Lachlann wanted to admit.

He left the council chamber and made his way through the quiet castle corridors. Most of the household had already retired for the night, leaving only guards on their rounds and the occasional servant finishing late duties.

Lachlann paused outside Alba's chamber door. Malcolm and Finn snapped to attention.

"All quiet?" he asked.

"Aye, me laird. She retired about an hour ago. Havenae heard a sound since."

Lachlann nodded, resisting the urge to knock, to check on her, to see for himself that she was safe.

But she needed rest. And he needed to not be the kind of man who couldn't go one night without seeing her.

Even though that's exactly what he was becoming.

He continued to his own chamber, closing the door behind him and leaning against it heavily. The weight of the day—of the decisions made, the threats looming, the war that might be coming—pressed down on him.

What am I daein'? Puttin' me entire clan at risk. Draggin' the Covenant intae a potential war. All fer a woman I have nay right tae want.

But even as the doubt whispered through his mind, he knew the truth.

He'd make the same choices again.

Would risk everything again.

Because Alba MacKinnon had somehow become more important to him than duty, politics, or anything else.

And that terrified him almost as much as the thought of losing her.

Lachlann moved to the window, looking out over his dark lands. Somewhere beyond the horizon, Torquil was plotting. The king was considering his petition. Forces were moving into position for a confrontation that seemed increasingly inevitable.

Tomorrow, he'd promised to take Alba somewhere special. To give her a few hours of peace before the storm truly broke.

He'd keep that promise.

And then he'd prepare for war.

Because one way or another, this was ending. Either Torquil would back down––unlikely––or Lachlann would make him regret ever setting eyes on Alba MacKinnon.

There was no middle ground anymore.

No compromise.

Just the terrible certainty that blood would be spilled before it was over.

Lachlann closed his eyes, letting the cool night air wash over his face, and tried to find the strength to face whatever came next.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

"Lachlann. A word?"

James's voice caught him just as Lachlann was about to enter his chambers.

"What is it?" Lachlann turned back, noting the serious set to James's expression.