Laird of Darkness Read Free Page A

ramparts. The whole of the castle and surrounding countryside spun around her. Alana shook her head, attempting to set everything to rights. “What is this place?”
    “Keirness Castle,” Duncan said, materializing and setting her onto her feet. Still, he held her arm. “Careful you don’t fall.”
    She focused on his face, trying to control her dizziness. “Who is the laird here?” Maybe she could appeal to…
    “I am.”
    “Naturally.” Why had she expected anything else?
    “Murray!” he yelled down to someone on the ground. “Come to my solar forthwith.”
    Her stomach tensed further. “What will you do with me?”
    “No more questions.” He ushered her along the battlements, past two heavily armed guards who stared at her with curiosity but remained silent, and down a narrow stairwell. Before she knew it, Duncan pulled her inside a sparsely furnished chamber lit by one candle and a glow from the hearth. A huge bed made of dark wood and covered in blankets dominated the room. She was alone in the bedchamber of a naked man.
    Though she was no virgin, Alana blushed just the same. “Do you intend to force yourself on me?”
    “Nay.” He scowled as if he had the right to be affronted.
    “What are you about, then? Am I to be your hostage?”
    Lighting another candle, he waited longer to answer this time. “Aye.” His tone was definite, hard.
    Sharp slivers of ice pricked her skin. “Why?”
    “That, I cannot reveal.”
    “What do you hope to gain? Ransom? I shall give you gold coins if you return me to my party.”
    “I have no need of gold.”
    In the brightening candlelight, Alana noticed for the first time that he had a wound on his forearm. Three deep scratch marks. They appeared to be from some large animal like a lion or bear. How had he received such an injury? Such creatures did not run wild in Scotland, though she’d heard some kings kept them for depraved sport fighting. As a healer, she had never seen the like, but the gashes appeared to be healing well. Her trained eyes scanned his body for more wounds. He had several scars—as all men did—from skirmishes and training with weapons. Then she noticed another wound on his calf. Bite marks?
    “How did—”
    One blunt knock struck the door. Duncan opened it and spoke to a man she could not see in the corridor. Murray, she assumed. “Take two dozen men to the loch, toward the south, and bring the party of nine men and four women here. Tell them they must come peacefully if they wish to see Lady Alana alive again.” He then lowered his voice and whispered more words she could not understand.
    “Aye, m’laird.” The guard’s footsteps thudded away.
    Duncan slammed the door. She glanced about for a sharp object to hurl at his head, but saw none.
    “You are a beast. A barbarian! You would threaten my life after you just saved it?”
    “You’ll be safe enough—if you do as I say.” His voice held an edge of warning that said he was dangerous, despite the fact he’d saved her life.
    She noticed the scarlet birthmark over his heart, a blemish the size of her fist. ’Twas the same spot that glowed when he turned invisible! Alana wanted to know more about his powers of sorcery, but first she must discover why she’d been taken hostage. “You seemed honorable enough until you learned the name of my future husband. Is he your enemy?”
    “Aye, and my half brother, unfortunately.”
    “MacClaren is your half brother?” Nothing could have shocked her more.
    “We share the same mother.”
    She glared at him. “Why is your half brother your enemy?”
    “My father killed his father in battle, and MacClaren blames me for it, though ’twas before I was born. An eye for an eye, a life for a life.” Duncan’s smirk held no humor. “He has sent more than one man to kill me.”
    “I’m sure he has more reason than that, given your knavish behavior,” Alana said, though she knew grudges between clans were held for centuries.
    Duncan