He'd discovered that his wife had taken a lover and had gone to confront her. She hadn't denied the words, but instead wanted to apologize by wrapping her arms around him. But he'd pushed her away in a fit of rage, picturing the love of his life with another. She'd tripped and landed on the hearth. Darach had assumed she was fine when she stood up after the altercation, but later that night, he was summoned to herchambers to find his wife dead.In the coming days, he’d been defeated. His brother had been far away visiting an ally clan, and Kenn was the one who had brought him back to his senses as the world around him spun out of control.
Kenn had made the burial arrangements, had handled the court with dexterity, and had forced his way into Maira’s chambers where Darach had stayed day and night to mourn. Kenn had encouraged him in every way to get him back to the man he was, the Laird of the Robertson clan.
And that’s why he would never turn his back on Kenn,nNot for MacThomas, not for anyone.
“Darach, hold on and heal. I’ll take care of the court,”he had said.“I will nae allow ye tae to lose yerself tae this, I promise.”
Kenn had made good on his promise and had dragged him back into life.
But one thing that Darach would never forget about that night was that he’d become what he loathed the most.
He’d become a beast that raised a hand to his wife, just like his father.
Darach didn’t know how much time passed before he was able to get up and steady himself. It could have been hours. But when he crawled from the floor back into the hallways of the keep, he knew what he had to do. Even though it was unfortunate, he knew there was no other way to save his friend.
They had taken something of his, and he had to take something of theirs in return.
He had to abduct Jane.
CHAPTERFOUR
Jane couldn’t sleep. She tossed around in her bed for what seemed like an hour before she gave up on sleep. Her hand slipped to the scar across her chest, her thumb rubbing over the ridges. For several long minutes, she wondered about the happenings of the night. She’d met her doom personified, and the night had ended with her father slapping her in the presence of his guards and the servants.
In the past, her father’s actions would have brought her to tears. But she no longer cried about his lack of love and had fully accepted her fate. Her father’s dislike for her had grown since the night her mother had died, only to strengthen with time. She’d prayed for years that things would change, spending hours in the chapel at the feet of the huge cross, starving off in the hope that he started to look at her more favorably, but nothing had changed.
There was no need to worry about all of that anymore. Instead, her mind was on the mystery man, Darach Robertson. He was the man prophesied to bring doom to the daughter of truth.
Her mind was still mulling over him when she heard a crash out in the hallway. Startling, she quickly rose out of bed and slipped on a robe over her night shift. It was probably Aileen trying to come over and thank her. She opened the door and stepped into the corridor, but there was no one there.
Jane paced her way slowly toward her sister’s room and had barely taken a few steps when she saw the shadows shift. Her heart froze.
There is someone in the hallway. A stranger!
Jane moved to cry out and run, but it was too late. A strong hand clamped over her mouth and yanked her close to a big, strong body.
“Be still and I willnae hurt ye,” the gruff voice warned.
There was no whisper in her head. That scared her.
She could tell who the voice belonged to in an instant. She'd listened to him argue with her father all through the night, denying that his companion had indeed committed the crime Aileen accused him of.
There was something else that made Jane sure of who it was. Her body simmered with a rousing heat from where his hand rested on her, and the flames traveled across her body, igniting and unnerving her.
Darach Robertson held her, paralyzed to the spot, his menacing aura and strong arms holding her in a tight grip.
Jane realized the prophecy could be coming to pass right now. He could be planning to kill her right there in the shadowy hallways of the keep where she'd grown up. Fear started bubbling deep in her belly, rising through her body until it became a tangible, living force that crept over her like a hungry beast, immobilizing her with a grip much stronger than her assailant's.
“Unhand me…please,” she mumbled against his hand.
“My sincere apologies, my lady, but I need yer support in making sure I get my advisor back from yer faither.”
Jane babbled against his hand again in response.
“Ye need tae promise me ye'll make no ruckus.”
Jane nodded her head, and he slowly removed his hand. She looked up into his eyes and the darkness swirling in them. His gaze seemed ethereal, like a bottomless darkness that no one dared venture into. He was unreadable, a blank book with dark pages that couldn't be deciphered.
Darach suddenly whispered something and pulled her down the shadowed halls, his hard grip guiding her as they weaved through dark passages. Jane steadied her breath and tried to calm her panic. She couldn't allow him to abduct her. That would mean her end. The face of the fortune teller flashed in her mind, her words as clear as this very moment.