Chapter 1

1

" F ire!"

The piercing cry split the predawn silence, startling Magnus Black from the depths of a restless slumber into full wakefulness in a heartbeat. He threw off the plaid that served as his blanket and crossed his room to the thick door, dressed only in his nightshirt. He was the laird of McCormack Castle; the safety of the castle and the people within it rested with him, and he would do all he could to preserve it.

His heart thundered in his chest as he made his way down the long corridor towards the cries of the early servants of the morning. He could see his path well enough as the first ray of the morning sun slipped through the windows. Dawn would bring more men to the castle, including his man-at-arms, but for now, he was the most able-bodied man in the castle.

Magnus strode across the cold stone floor to the kitchen filled with smoke and the smell of burning grain. His servants had enough wits about them to fetch buckets of water. One of the younger stable boys almost ran into the larid, coughing as he retreated with his now-empty bucket.

"Nay." Magnus grabbed the arm of the boy before any harm was done. "Ye daenae want to be runnin'. Form a line and pass the buckets along."

Magnus faced a fire with just stable boys and scullery maids, but it would have to do. He walked the line with broad strides, barking orders to turn a handful of running teens into an organized chain, passing the buckets of water from the well to the grain store.

"Ye'rr doin' well, lads." Magnus praised his workers as the heavy buckets strained their arms; sweat glistened from his brow as Magnus took his place at the end of the line, placing himself closest to the flames. Ash clung to the sweat, giving an eerie sheen to his body, but they were slowly making headway.

"Me laird." a voice called out to announce the arrival of his man-at-arms. Caelan Ward appeared through the haze, accompanied by burly clansmen wielding buckets of water and sand. The buckets of water came fuller and faster now, allowing Magnus to push the fire back.

Eventually, the fire died out, leaving nothing but ash where it had touched and a thick haze of smoke in the air and in the lungs of all his firefighters.

"Thank ye," Magnus backed, fighting back the cough which irritated his throat. "Caelan, send the young ones home. Let them rest this day."

"Ay, me laird." Caelan turned away to give the orders. Magnus stood alone, as close to the food store as humanly possible without inhaling the foul air.

"What about ye, me laird? Yer needin' to change." Caelan returned before Magnus even realized he was gone, the devastation before him stealing his sense of time.

"Aye," he nodded in agreement but failed to move.

"I'll be gettin' dressed. Ye find out who was here when it started. We will question all, and then assess the damage when we are able." With his order given, Magnus turned to leave.

"Will ye nae rest, me laird? Ye've earned it," Caelan called after him, but Magnus did not falter in his steps or respond. There was no rest for the Laird of McCormack. Not when danger lurked so close to his heart and home, whether by flame or foe.

The smoldering remains of the storeroom lay before Magnus, tendrils of smoke still clawing at the early morning sky. The chill of dawn could not penetrate the heat that radiated from the blackened walls, a grim reminder of how close they had come to disaster. Magnus stood shoulder to shoulder with Caelan, their breath misting in the cold air as they watched and waited for the stone to cool.

"Fortune favors us this morn," Magnus murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried in the quiet. "Hayden and Scarlett are away—less worry for our heads."

"Indeed, me laird," Caelan replied. "'Tis fortunate timin' that Hayden took Scarlett to meet her betrothed, lest the fire claimed more than just provisions."

"Provisions can be replaced," Magnus said, the stoicism in his tone belying the tightness in his chest. The thought of his siblings in danger was a weight he was all too glad to be without, even if the absence of their presence within these walls left an unfamiliar hollowness. "It is the cause we need to address."

As the door's charred remains cooled to a less forbidding touch, Magnus motioned to Caelan, signaling it was time to enter. They stepped into the storeroom, their boots crunching on debris, assessing the extent of what was lost. Barrels of salted meat were reduced to ashes, sacks of grain split open and spoiled by water and soot. It was a harsh blow to their supplies, with winter looming on the horizon.

"Twas no malice at work here," Caelan suggested gently, his eyes scanning the destruction with a practiced eye.

"Who would have the carelessness to let such a thing happen?" Magnus's question hung heavy in the air, his gaze sharp as he surveyed the damage.

"I fear 'tis old Moira. Her wits are nae as they once were, and all say she was last to leave this place."

"Perhaps." Magnus's jaw tightened, the muscles working beneath stubbled skin. Moira had served his family loyally for years, her hands contributing to the well-being of the clan. To turn her out now would be a cruel repayment for her service.

Magnus stood before the trembling figure of the elderly kitchen maid, her eyes clouded with confusion and fear.

"Moira," he began, his voice softer than most had ever heard it, "ye daenae remember what happened, do ye?"

The old woman shook her head, her hands clasped tightly together as though seeking warmth or comfort from the chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

"Yer mind may be a wee bit dimmed by the years," Magnus continued, his tone gentle yet firm, "but yer place here at the castle is secure. We'll find ye tasks more suited to yer strengths."

A flicker of relief passed over Moira's wrinkled face, and she nodded, murmuring a grateful, "thank ye, Laird McCormack."

"See to it that she's well cared for," Magnus instructed Caelan sternly before turning away, leaving the old woman in capable hands.

"Ye show much kindness, me laird," Caelan noted, the underlying note of surprise clear in his voice.

"Kindness has naught to do with it," Magnus bit back, though the truth of his compassion lay unspoken between them. "No one will say Laird McCormack does nae care for his own."

Caelan nodded, accepting the command, but his eyes lingered on Magnus with newfound calculation. "As ye wish, laird."

A silence settled amongst the ruins of what had been, the only sound the distant call of a raven, its cry a portentous echo in the stillness of the morning. Magnus oversaw the emptying of the storeroom, setting everything that could be salvaged in the main hall, while the kitchen became a graveyard for the spoilt harvest. Magnus was certain some of the wet grain could be sent to the hardy pigs farmed over in the glen, and the meat could be rendered down to fats for candle making. It wouldn't feed the family, but Magnus couldn't abide such waste.

But even as they took stock of the loss, the shrill call of a horn echoed through the courtyard, heralding unexpected visitors.

"Who dares arrive at such an early hour?" Magnus's voice was a low growl, his body tensing for new troubles.

"Shall we find out?" Caelan asked, a sly edge to his words.

"Visitors, me laird," announced the sentry who appeared at the door, breathless from urgency.

"Escort them to the main hall," Magnus commanded, rising with purpose, before remembering the chaotic state of the main hall. "Nay, I will meet them in the courtyard."

"I shall remain by yer side, me laird," Caelan reassured.

Magnus gave a curt nod and strode toward the entrance, his mind already turning to strategies and defenses. They would soon discover who approached—and whether friend or foe, Magnus Black would be ready to face them.

He strode through the corridors, the echo of his boots on stone a drumbeat to the fire still burning within him. The sight that greeted him stoked his anger anew as he entered the courtyard. His brother was standing before the carriage, his hand outstretched to help Scarlett climb from within.

"Scarlett? Hayden?" His words were clipped, disbelief etched in every syllable. "Why are ye returned so soon? And why is Scarlett nae with the O'Kane clan, preparin' for her marriage?"

Scarlett seemed to bristle with indignation, her stance defiant as she met her brother's gaze. "It's nae me fault the man didn't want me," she retorted, chin lifted in challenge.

Magnus stiffened, his hands clenching with a rage now festering within. Scarlett was to marry Laird O'Kane, but he would not cast her aside. He could not believe Flynn Gibson could find any fault in his sister that would cause him to turn her away. The fault had to lie with the Laird himself.

"What did he do to ye?"

"Nothing, brother, I swear it. He was good to me. He just…"

"Tell me what he did."

"He married another."

"He cannae do that. We had an arrangement. He must have given a good reason for this treachery?"

Hayden stepped forward, placing a protective hand on his sister's shoulder. "Nay, brother, 'tis true. Laird O'Kane's heart belongs to another."

Magnus clenched his fists at his sides, the betrayal slicing through him like a dirk. This turn of events would not stand; he would see his family's honor restored, even if he had to move heaven and earth to do it.

"Did ye speak to him on this matter, Hayden? Surely ye could make him see the good sense of this agreement?" Magnus didn't mean to speak so harshly to his brother, none of his anger was towards him, but the bitterness of the betrayal was evident in his actions.

"What could I do, brother?" Hayden protested. "The man has wed another. Nothing can be done."

The words hung heavy in the air, laden with an accusation that made the atmosphere in the great hall of Clan McCormack as volatile as a keg of gunpowder. Scarlett's fierce gaze bore into Magnus, her spirit unbroken even in the face of his mounting fury.

"Please, brother, daenae blame Hayden for this," Scarlett insisted.

"Ye mean to tell me," Magnus started, voice low and dangerous, "that ye return here without a husband because that cur O'Kane had the gall to set his affections on another?"

"Exactly that, brother," Scarlett confirmed with a stubborn tilt of her chin, her fiery hair catching the light of the sun and casting a warm glow about her defiant features.

Caelan Ward, standing a pace behind Magnus, leaned in, his voice dripping with concern. "They would disrespect ye like that, me Laird?" His blue eyes, usually so charming, now flashed with the thrill of the unfolding scandal.

"Aye," Magnus replied curtly, his brown eyes darkening, a storm gathering within their depths. The betrayal stung, not only the pride of his clan but also the duty he felt towards his sister. "What can be done now?" he asked, though his mind already raced through the possibilities, each more treacherous than the last.

"Nothing, Magnus," Scarlett's voice broke through his thoughts, carrying a note of resignation. "Laird O'Kane's heart was stolen by another, and they are wed."

Magnus's broad shoulders, which had borne the weight of responsibility since boyhood, seemed to tense further, the muscle and sinew beneath his shirt tightening like the strings of a lute. Betrayal was a bitter draught, and it did not sit well in the pit of his stomach.

Could this day get any worse?

"If there was a way around this, I would have pushed for it," Hayden insisted.

Magnus bristled with a rage compounded by his early rise, and now they were to be disgraced like this. To be cast aside as if the McCormack clan was nothing. Magnus could not let that go. He needed to speak to Laird O'Kane himself and seek a resolution. If there was a brother, then Scarlett could wed him. It would not be as secure an alliance, but it would be something, and if there was no brother to be had, then perhaps a sister for Hayden. "Remind me of his siblings?"

"No brothers. Two sisters wed, and one still home." Hayden shrugged, failing to see the purpose of the question.

"There. We can be compensated then."

"Brother, please, ye ken nothing of the family's past. He dinnae shun me, but followed his heart on another path," Scarlett protested.

"Scarlett, ye forget that Laird O'Kane has a sister yet unwed." Magnus's words sliced through the silence that had fallen upon the room. With calculated steps, he advanced back toward them, his gaze locking onto Hayden's uneasy expression. "We'll need to consider all our alliances carefully."

"Brother, what are ye suggestin'?" Hayden asked, perplexity written across his handsome face.

"Plans," Magnus replied, a shadow of a smile playing upon his lips, a rare glimpse of the calculating mind beneath his stoic exterior. "Strategic plans."

"Ye cannae mean—" Scarlett began, but Magnus cut her off.

"Indeed, I do." His words were clipped, decisive. "The ties of blood and marriage bind us all in this land. And if Laird O'Kane does nae honor his commitment to our family, then we must ensure our position is secured by other means."

"Ye daenae mean that I should marry?" Hayden gasped as realization sunk in.

"I was promised a marriage between us and the O'Kanes, and I shall have it."

"But Erin is…"

"Is she nae attractive?" Magnus cut him off.

"Aye, brother, she is bonnie indeed."

"And she can speak?"

"She can speak, brother, but she daenae fit me needs."

"So the lass isnae like the harlots ye are used to," Magnus concluded. "A weddin' is what the clan needs and it is what we get. If ye were unable to give yer sister's hand, then we shall take hers. One of ye will wed the O'Kanes. I will nae be made a fool of again."

His declaration echoed in the great hall, the import of his words hanging between them like a drawn sword. With a final, meaningful glance at Hayden, Magnus turned on his heel, his long black hair swirling behind him as he strode purposefully toward his chambers to make plans that could alter the fate of their clan forever.

"Ye're a bampot, brother." Hayden yelled after him.

"Prepare yerself, brother," he called over his shoulder, his voice carrying the promise of action. "Find yerself some food, and rest. Be ready to return to O'Kane Castle on the morrow."

And with that, the Laird of Clan McCormack disappeared from sight, leaving his stunned siblings to ponder the implications of his parting words.