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Chapter 8

A Wife’s Duty

Holly cowered in the coach as the arrows thunked against its side. It sounded like hailstones pelting the exterior. Arrow points split the wood, threatening to tear the entire carriage apart. Outside, shouts and grunts provided an orchestral background to the fight.

Then, as quickly as the battle had started, it ended. Silence did not fall bit by bit—all sound was sucked from the world as if fired away on a giant arrow. The carriage fell deathly silent, and Holly cowered more. She knew worse was coming.

The door to the carriage flew open, and the world outside was engulfed by fire. The man who stood in the doorway was not the Laird. He did not have a scarred face, but he was still grotesque. His eyes were ice cold, brimming with death. He reached out to grab her.

“Fraser!”

Holly sat bolt upright in bed, her chest heaving. She looked around the room, but there was no one there. The oil lamp flickered on the wall, providing some light. She took a moment to steady herself and catch her breath.

It was her fourth night in the castle, and she had not slept well since the first, and that had been because of pure exhaustion. The dream was new. Nightmares were not what caused her restlessness. Waiting for the Laird to come to her room was her concern.

She had barely seen him in four days and had spent much of her time exploring the castle and visiting Mirren in the kitchens.

Her heart beat quickly, as the nightmare was slow to release it clutches on her. She did not only have the Laird to contend with but the threat of death. Fraser wanted the Laird dead, and from the bits and pieces she had picked up without directly asking about him, Fraser would slay anyone who stood in his way.

Holly got out of bed, grabbing a shawl when a chill ran down her spine. She went to the window. The sun had not long set, and there was a purple hue just above the forest that turned inky blue. An owl hooted from somewhere among the trees, and the reply came from a howling wolf.

She did not wish to wait any longer, not wanting to be alone.

If he willnae come to me, then I will go to him.

Holly left her room and walked down the hallways of the quiet castle. She had explored enough to know where the more important rooms were. She went to the Laird’s study first, but it was empty. Then, she found Eric poring over maps by the candlelight in the lower hall. He looked up and held her gaze momentarily, before returning to the maps. There was only one place left to go—the room she had been avoiding—Ragnall’s bedroom.

She stood outside as she composed herself. Her heart beat faster than earlier. Her hand shook as she lifted it to knock, but she finally took the plunge and rapped at his door.

“Enter,” came the command from inside.

Holly opened the door and stepped inside. When Ragnall saw her, his eyes lit up with surprise.

“What are ye doin’ here?” he asked.

Holly could not calm her nerves, and she found herself unable to speak. Her eyes wandered the room like a ship with no anchor in a storm. The four-poster bed was much like hers but larger and more ornate. There were fewer artworks, but the walls were not bare. The room was larger, but the furniture was sparser.

Her eyes finally landed on the Laird. He was sitting in his bed, wearing a long nightshirt, almost his entire body covered from neck to ankles. She could see little of his body, but something stirred inside with the knowledge that only a thin piece of fabric separated her from his body.

It excited and terrified her. He was tall and broad and handsome enough that any woman might want him if not… for his scars. She did not know how extensive they were on his body, and there was the fact that he was a killer and a beast.

“I asked ye what ye are doin’ here,” Ragnall prompted.

Holly mustered her courage. She had come this far, and there was not much further to go. She would let him ravage her and get it over and done with. She stepped further into the room and closed the door behind her.

I hope he doesnae hurt me too much.

“Me Faither explicitly told me I was to give ye an heir,” she stated as if they were making a business deal. “I ken ye are a busy man, so I have come to ye. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

Ragnall shot her a glare, and she felt her body tremble beneath his gaze. She took some more deep breaths as she tried to steady the ship.

“I am yer wife, and I ken me duty. We will lie together,” she said.

“Aye, is that how it is?” Ragnall asked silkily. “Come over here, then.”

Holly took one step at a time, breathing evenly through her nose as she approached the Laird. She expected him to jump up and grab her, but he remained seated on the bed. She towered over him, waiting for it to happen.

“Sit,” Ragnall ordered, patting his lap.

Holly was unable to look away from his chestnut-brown eyes. She wanted to look elsewhere, but he had her under his command. Her body complied with his request without her having to think about it. She sat on his lap, and the warmth of his body seeped into her.

His hand wrapped around her and held her hip. She started slightly, unnerved by his touch.

Just do it! Please, just do it!

Holly wished for him to ravish her and plant his seed so she could go back to her room and hide. His slow movements made it far more agonizing. She did not want him to draw it out. She closed her eyes, hoping it would be better, but all she could think about was the rage he held inside. She heard the sounds from the battle outside the carriage and imagined him slaying an entire clan.

Had he done it while they were in their beds? What will he do to me in this bed?

“Is this what ye want?” Ragnall asked as he ran his hand up her torso, cupping her breast.

A tremor of fear ran up her spine, but when it came back down, she felt pleasure. She had never been touched like this before, and even though he was a brute, it excited her.

“Mmm-hmm,” she managed. “Aye, Me Laird.”

“Look at me and tell me that,” Ragnall ordered.

Holly inhaled twice through her nose before she slowly opened her eyes. He still had his hand on her breast, and she could feel her nipple stiffening beneath his touch. Her body betrayed the fear in her heart. She turned her head slightly to look him in the eye again.

“Aye,” she repeated, nodding her head shakily. “This is what I want.”

The Laird regarded her, and she knew she had to prove she wanted it. She leaned forward, her eyes open the entire time, and kissed him. It was not much of a kiss and more of a peck on the lips before she drew back. Her eyes flicked to his scars when she was so close.

At least he smelled good. Sandalwood and lemon mixed with his natural musk.

Her chest heaved more as her fear was replaced by anger. She wondered if he was mocking her. He should have taken her already, not because of the beast he was but because he was a man, and they were married.

Ragnall sprung into action. He cupped the nape of her neck and pulled her closer, their lips locking, but for a lot more than a mere peck this time. His tongue mounted an offensive, hungrily invading her mouth and licking at hers.

Holly did not know what to do. She let the Laird do as he pleased, squeezing her breast with one hand and holding the nape of her neck with the other. Her anger and fear came flooding back, and her tongue started to fight, battling against his and trying to push it out of her mouth.

Ragnall squeezed her breast tighter, and it did something to her. She felt the rage and terror turn into something else, and she did not fight it. Her tongue didn’t fight with his but danced with it. Their kiss was sloppy and irregular, but that didn’t matter as Holly lost herself to it. If she kept her eyes closed, she could imagine he was someone else.

Then, she felt something stiffen beneath her. It felt like a firm, rounded arrow sticking into her thigh.

Suddenly, her nightmare came flooding back, and she leaped up from the Laird’s lap, almost fainting as her head swirled. She stumbled and put a hand against the wall to right herself.

Ragnall looked livid. He stood up from the bed, and her eyes instinctively roamed over his body—there was so much confusion swirling within her. He took two steps toward her, and she cowered against the wall, fearing he would attack her.

The Laird waved his hand in the air and went back to the bed. It creaked as he dropped down onto it.

Still, her eyes betrayed her, straying to the large member straining against the fabric of his nightshirt. She was finally able to look away, but not before she had blushed scarlet. She dropped her hand from the wall, panting.

“Did ye come here to mock me?” Ragnall asked.

“What?” Holly sputtered. “To mock ye? Nay, I didnae come here to mock ye.”

Ragnall scoffed, his eyes colder than before. When he looked at her again, the candles on the wall illuminated the scars on the side of his face, highlighting them like never before.

Holly took him in—strong and stoic but murderous and flawed. She might be married to him, but she did not want to get on his wrong side.

“Why would I come to mock ye?” she asked. “I came here to do me duty.”

“I might look like a beast, but that doesnae make me one,” Ragnall stated.

“I didnae say that ye were,” Holly countered, although she had been guilty of thinking it.

She felt muddled, confused. Everything told her he was a monster of some sort, but it was true he had done nothing to show her he was one. She did not know what he was, but she had judged him already. Whether that was right or wrong did not matter.

“I willnae lie with an unwillin’ woman,” Ragnall told her.

“I am willin’,” Holly claimed.

“Are ye?” he challenged. “When ye came in here, ye told me ye had come to do yer duty. I saw the look in yer eyes. Did ye come here lookin’ forward to lyin’ with me? Or are ye lyin’ to me?”

Holly felt like a scolded child. She looked down at her feet and then back at the Laird, at a loss for words.

“Well?” Ragnall prompted louder. “Are ye a willin’ woman, or are ye scared of me?”

Holly tried to hold his gaze, but she was far too ashamed. She looked down at the floor again and willed herself to say something that would make it all better.

But instead, she only muttered, “I dinnae ken.”

As soon as she said those words, she felt terrible. They had been married for four days, and she didn’t know if she was too afraid to sleep with her husband.

It’s nae all on me! Ye havenae made it easy on me.

“Aye,” was all that Ragnall said.

The word cut her deeper than the sharpest blade would. She was supposed to do her duty, and she had failed.

“Leave me,” Ragnall muttered.

Holly took a step forward. “I can still do this.”

“Nay,” he snarled. “Leave me room and let me sleep. I’ll deal with ye later.”

Holly wanted to say something more to rectify the situation, but it was clear that nothing would help now. The best thing to do was to leave him, as he had commanded. She nodded meekly and then retreated through the door and into the hallway. She stole one last glimpse of the Laird as she closed the door, but he did not look at her.

I’ll deal with ye later.

She didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. She had gotten through an ordeal in the Laird’s room, but it was all for nothing. She would have to try again, but she knew he would not be as gentle with her the next time.

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