Chapter 2

2

" V isitors," came the call from the clansman at the main gate."

"Who calls here unannounced?" Erin cried to anyone who would listen. Her heart pounded with excitement as she hitched the folds of her skirt higher, bolting across the cobblestone courtyard toward the towering gate of her family's castle. They had an unexpected visitor, and Erin was keen to see who would call upon them unannounced. The crisp Highland air bit at her cheeks, but the possibility that one of her sisters had returned sent a warm surge of joy through her veins.

The clang of iron against stone signaled the gate was being drawn open, urging Erin to quicken her pace. That was until her body collided with an immovable force, a solid presence that seemed to rise out of the earth itself. Her breath hitched, expecting the jarring impact with the ground, only to find herself ensnared in a strong embrace that steadied her.

Warmth radiated from the arms that encircled her waist, and for a fleeting moment, Erin's world narrowed to the sensation of being held by this unexpected savior. "Och, lass, ye should watch where yer goin'," a deep, resonant voice rumbled above her.

Flustered, Erin's cheeks burned with a flush that rivalled the crimson of rowan berries. She tilted her chin upward, prepared to offer gratitude mixed with a gentle scolding for his lack of warning. But the words lodged in her throat as her gaze met that of the man who had caught her.

Broad-shouldered and formidable, he towered over her. His eyes held her captive with an intensity that bordered on wildness. His face may have been handsome once, but now scars decorated his features and she shuddered at the thought of the pain he must have endured.

Erin's heart hammered in her chest as the towering figure steadied her on her feet. The breath she had been about to thank him with hitched in her throat, her words swallowed by shock.

The man before her could have been plucked from the dark tales spun by the fireside—covered in muscles and a map of scars that spoke of countless battles, his presence was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Long, wild hair framed a face that had surely seen the horrors of war, the untamed look in his eyes fierce enough to freeze the blood of even the bravest warrior. He was a beast of a man, a legend brought to life.

"Thank ye," Erin murmured, her voice betraying her composure as she tried to regain her footing, her hand brushing against the coarse wool of his plaid. She studied the tartan pattern, noting its unfamiliar weave, a reminder that this man was an outsider to her clan.

"Ye've nay need to thank me," he replied, his voice carrying the lilt of the glens, a sound both foreign and strangely comforting.

"Well, I do thank ye, nonetheless."

"Then we're even, lass," he stated, a hint of gruffness creeping into his voice. "Now, if ye'll excuse me, I've business with yer laird."

"Who are ye, then?" Erin called after him, the words escaping her before she could think better of it.

The man just tutted rudely at her. Before Erin could gather her wits, another figure stepped forward, one she recognized: Hayden Black, the roguish charmer who had visited not long ago. His handsome features starkly contrasted with the rugged intensity of the man beside him.

"Hayden, why have ye come back?" Erin asked, attempting to regain some semblance of composure.

Hayden's lips curved into a knowing smile, but the other man commanded the moment. "I demand to see the laird," he growled, impatience threading his tone.

"An apology might be in order first for nearly mowin' me down," Erin retorted, her independent spirit unwilling to let his brusque manner go unchecked.

The man regarded her with cold brown eyes, an unreadable expression settling over his scarred visage. With a dismissive shrug, he brushed past her, his disdain clear in his silence.

Erin's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red at his audacity. She watched as the two men made their way toward the castle, her gaze lingering on the retreating form of the 'monster' who had so rudely dismissed her. He was a Highlander, and there were rules for men like him, but her curiosity had her following them.

Why are ye returned, Hayden Black? I've nay more brothers for yer sister to marry.

Erin watched as the stranger strode toward the open gate, his gait purposeful and commanding. As the distance grew, an inexplicable pull tugged at her heart, and the brief encounter left her with more questions than answers. She hurried after the men, curious but wary of this man demanding an audience with her brother.

The sudden appearance of the castle steward hastened the moment. With a respectful bow and a subtle glance at Erin, he gestured for the two imposing figures to follow him. "Laird McCormack, Master Black, if ye'll come with me."

Magnus Black!

Hayden's brother and the laird of McCormack were here to make her brother marry the sister as intended. Erin felt angered by the man's refusal to accept that Flynn married for love. It was what Erin hoped for herself, though she was only nineteen and had no plans to seek out love or marriage for many years to come.

"Why have ye come? Ye'll nae change Flynn's mind. He willnae marry Scarlett." Erin trailed behind, eager to see her brother put this beast of a man in his place. "Ye're better off goin' home now. Tis naught but a waste of time."

The infuriating man still failed to acknowledge her words as he kept walking, causing her hands to ball into fists with frustration.

"Ye'll find no hospitality here with manners such as those, Magnus Black!" Erin called after him, her voice ringing with the fierceness of her Highland blood.

Magnus paused mid-stride, turning slightly to fix her with a piercing gaze that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. It was a look that promised there was far more to this man than the brute force he wielded—a depth that intrigued and unsettled her in equal measure.

" I've business with yer brother that cannot wait," he stated, his voice low and resonant.

His declaration hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of unspoken consequences. As Magnus turned away, striding confidently toward the castle, Erin found herself caught between trepidation and a strange sense of anticipation.

What kind of business would bring such a man to their doorstep? And why did the thought of it ignite a fire within her that she could neither understand nor quell?

Erin followed them with a mixture of dread and defiance, her footsteps echoing on the cobblestone path. Each step took her closer to a future bound in mystery and shadowed by Magnus Black's formidable presence.

As the great hall doors swung open to admit them, Erin steeled herself for what was to come, proudly waiting to see her brother send this man running back to his own clan with his tail between his legs.

As they crossed the threshold into the warmth of the great hall, Erin watched her brother extend a hand in greeting, yet it was not lost on her how he kept his other hand close to the hilt of his dirk. Magnus took the handshake, his grip firm, as one would grasp destiny itself.

"Welcome to O'Kane keep," Flynn said, his voice steady despite the unease dancing in his eyes.

"Ye ken why I'm here," Magnus replied, his words clipped like the snap of a flag in the wind.

Aye , thought Erin, everyone in the room could feel the purpose behind those words. But ye'll nay find what yer after.

The crackling hearth and the rich scents of peat and roasting venison did little to soften the edges of this encounter.

"Let us speak plainly then," Flynn proposed, motioning towards the long oak table that had seen generations of kin feast and feud.

Erin's heart raced in her chest. She could sense the gravity of what was unfolding and she yearned to see her brother take command of the situation.

"Will ye sit?" Flynn offered.

"Nay," Magnus replied, his voice a low rumble like distant thunder.

"Very well," Flynn conceded, leaning back against the solid wood of the table, arms folded across his broad chest.

The firelight played across Magnus's scars, casting half his face in shadow, an enigmatic mask that both repelled and fascinated Erin. His brown eyes, dark and intense, caught hers for a moment, sending a shiver through her.

"Speak yer piece, then," Flynn urged, breaking the charged silence.

"Ye broke our agreement. Sent me sister back unmarried. It is an insult to the good name of McCormack and shameful to the name O'Kane. I need to ken why ye dishonor me clan."

"I dinnae intend any disrespect to yer clan. It wasnae me intent."

"O'Kane," Magnus began, his tone brooking no argument, "ye promised unity between our clans. A promise yer marriage to me sister would've sealed." His scars seemed to writhe with each word, a testament to battles fought and won. "And now ye must provide another way to mend the slight."

"I fell in love," Flynn confessed. It was a rare sight indeed to see her brother, usually so fierce and steadfast, put on the backfoot by another.

"There is no place for love in this arrangement," Magnus scoffed.

"Then what would ye have me do, McCormack?" Flynn challenged, his jaw set.

"Ye owe me a weddin', O'Kane."

"Ye've no right to demand such," Flynn's voice rumbled like distant thunder, his stance wide and unyielding as he faced Magnus.

Erin, who stood beside him, watched with an intensity that belied her usual composure. It was a rare sight indeed to see her brother, usually so fierce and steadfast, put on the backfoot by another.

"O'Kane," Magnus began, his tone brooking no argument, "I willnae be denied what I'm owed."

Erin's grip on her skirt tightened, the fabric crumpling beneath her delicate fingers. For a moment, her mind raced with memories of old tales, where pacts and promises were bound by blood and honor, their weight heavier than the mountains themselves. Her eyes turned to Briar, but her mother stood stoic and still, her face unreadable.

"What do ye suggest? Our alliance can remain as negotiated," Flynn challenged, his jaw set, eyes smoldering like peat fires.

"Ye have a sister unwed. She will marry Hayden," Magnus decreed, his gaze shifting to catch Erin's, trapping her in a momentary web of unspoken words and simmering chemistry.

"What? Nay!" Erin's voice cut through the room. "I'll nae be bartered like cattle!"

"Ye think yerself above it?" Magnus retorted, taking a step closer to her, the heat of his presence nearly singeing her skin despite the distance. "This is how alliances are forged, lass."

"An alliance with a man of Hayden's... reputation?" Erin's challenge was met with a low chuckle from somewhere behind Magnus.

"Yer opinion of me is quite clear, Erin," Hayden's voice teased. But Erin's gaze did not waver from Magnus.

"Enough!" Flynn's tone was hard, commanding silence. "There'll be no talk of marriage without consent."

"Consent," Magnus echoed, stepping back, the ghost of a smirk playing upon his lips. "Aye, consent shall be given. Or I'll take what's owed in land and cattle."

A murmur rippled through the hall like a storm-swollen burn tumbling down the highland slopes, each clansman and woman exchanging glances with speculation and concern.

Erin's heart hammered against her ribs; each beat a reminder of the precarious edge upon which her future balanced. As the men continued their verbal sparring, the weight of impending destiny bore down upon her, threatening to crush her spirit.

"Ye knew there would be consequences when ye broke the agreement." Magnus dismissed all Flynn's excuses. He would not be moved on the subject.

As the room descended into murmurs and half-formed plans, the echo of bagpipes from the village below reached her ears—a reminder of the life that pulsed beyond these walls, a life she yearned to claim as her own.

"Ye daenae need to bind our clans by marriage," Flynn's voice cut through the din, his broad shoulders squared as he faced Magnus. "Our allegiance stands firm without such ties."

"Besides," Erin interjected, her gaze steady despite the fluttering in her stomach, "Hayden is well-known for his... diversions with the lasses. I've no desire to be one of many."

Her words coaxed a chuckle from Hayden, whose roguish grin failed to mask the quick flash of admiration in his eyes. "Ye wound me, lass. A man can change, given the right woman."

"A marriage is needed to bind the agreement, O'Kane. Ye ken that." Magnus remained unmoved. "I will keep Hayden in line."

The two men were at an impasse, and neither would back down. Erin still hoped her brother would find a peaceful solution without bartering her away to a man whose reputation repulsed her.

"Perhaps," came the unexpected suggestion from Briar, her voice soft but carrying, drawing the attention of the room. "Erin should marry Laird McCormack himself instead."

"Maither!" Erin gasped. She wanted to marry someone better than Hayden, not some beast of the moors. "I willnae be bartered to such a man!"

The room fell deathly silent, every eye turning to gauge the reaction of the two at the center of this unexpected proposal. Erin's indignation flared hot as burning peat, her cheeks reddening with the heat of it. Magnus stiffened, and Erin found a glimmer of hope that the man would refuse her.

It was odd that he had not requested her hand for himself, indicating the man had no desire to marry. And if he refused her, he could no longer hold her brother to the same claim.

Erin dared to hope that they had called his bluff and the whole thing could be amicably resolved. But Magnus did not immediately refuse, his contemplative pause stirring a strange current between them. Erin's fury ebbed as she regarded him, sensing an odd reluctance in his stance.

"Very well," Magnus said at last, his voice resonating with quiet authority. The simple agreement struck the assembly like a bolt from the blue, leaving a stunned silence in its wake.

Erin's breath hitched, and her momentary calm dashed upon the rocks. That single, heavy breath from Magnus Black had sealed her fate, binding her to the beast when she'd been so certain he would reject the idea outright.

As the reality of her situation descended upon her, Erin felt the weight of centuries of tradition pressing down upon her shoulders—the tales of old, where marriages were forged in the fires of necessity and survival rather than love and choice.

She turned away, the image of Magnus's scarred visage seared into her memory. The beastly warrior might hold her fate in his hands, but she vowed then and there that he would not conquer her will.

"Maither, how could ye?" Erin's knees gave out, and she sank to the cold ground. "Ye ken the rules. I cannae marry a highlander."