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He never touched her until today. She was terrified of asking anything from him, and Keira had never been afraid of anyone in her life. He had broken her feisty spirit, and that was something she could not forgive him for.
The only thing she knew was that she needed to escape. She did not know how she would do it or even if she would make it out alive. Living in this castle with Eric was killing her a little every day, and she would rather die trying to escape than die at the hands of a cruel, brutal man. A man who did not deserve her at all. Keira knew she needed to do something and do it fast, or else her life here would just fade away day after day.
She touched the dried blood on her forehead and wondered how many bruises and pain she would have to endure until she could finally be free. If she would ever be free.
CHAPTER2
ONE MONTH LATER
A loud soundsuddenly reached her ears as Keira woke up from an already uncomfortable sleep. Eric had left her bedchamber only a few hours ago. She knew her face was sporting two huge bruises, and there must be cuts and gashes all over her body.
He never touched her sexually, never even came close to her in an intimate way but hitting was another thing entirely. He believed as his betrothed, she was already his property. Although he fancied himself as an old-fashioned man and would only come close to her once she was his wife. Keira just had to make sure she’d never be that.
Everything hurt, but she was still trying to get whatever little sleep she possibly could just to escape Eric, even for a few hours. Hitting her had become a custom, a routine. She felt as if she had become the source of his venting, a human being he could be unnecessarily brutal with to take out his frustrations.
Although something else had woken her up. She sat up in bed, trying to understand what was happening, when her gaze landed on the faint orange light coming into her bedchamber through the partially shut window.
Fire.
She immediately stood up, her feet bare in the cold, and wrapped a plaid around herself. The fact that it was the colors of the Gilmor house made her recoil, but she did not have much choice.
“What is happening?” she whispered to herself and quickly walked towards the window. Her window faced the backside of the castle, and as she opened it, she was met with towering flames that had overtaken the building. A loud, violent cough quickly overcame her as she inhaled the rapidly rising smoke. Her eyes watered, and her vision turned blurred. Keira backed away in horror and immediately ran towards the door, praying for it to be unlocked.
Eric had stopped locking her up lately since he was now certain that she would not be going anywhere. He had broken her so much that she believe there was no point in attempting to escape his cruel grasp. She tried to open the door and breathed a sigh of relief. It was indeed unlocked, and when she stepped out, she found the castle in chaos. She could see servants running from one end to the other, some carrying buckets with water and others just simply trying to escape from whatever calamity had struck.
“Wait,” Keira shouted as she noticed a servant running, and the young man immediately stopped. There was terror in his eyes, and Keira knew something was wrong.
“What is happening?” she asked, praying for it to be just a fire and nothing else. For some reason, she could sense it was an attack. It was not just her instincts telling her so. She was sure a man like Eric would have enemies.
“The MacPherson clan has attacked, and their soldiers have breached the gates. We are all going to die,” the servant cried out.
“Is it just the soldiers or has their laird also come with them?” she asked, hoping it was just the soldiers.
“Laird MacPherson is here too. I saw him with my own eyes in the forest. The man looks as murderous as everyone says he is,” the servant told her, his voice almost drowning with fear.
Keira’s blood froze at the news since she knew perfectly well what it meant. The MacPherson clan was the strongest, most violent clan in all of Scotland. They were both rich and powerful, and their soldiers were the most well-trained soldiers one could come across. They were ruthless fighters and Eric’s biggest enemies. Their laird, Christian Larsen, was supposedly a fighter and a ruthless one at that. There was no one in the entire kingdom who could match him. The man was dangerous, and Keira knew he should never find her. Eric had only threatened to kill her, but Christian would kill her in truth.
They had been trying to attack the Gilmor clan for the last month now, and every time they did, Eric would take his frustrations out on her. The beating that night would be severe. Keira still did not know how she was alive yet.
Although, this time, the MacPherson clan had invaded the castle walls and had set the place on fire. She knew what this meant. If Eric made it out alive, she would die at his hands.
Now is my chance to run. They’re too distracted to notice.
Before she knew what she was doing, she was running downstairs and out of the back gate of the castle, trying to make sure no one saw her. She knew since everyone was running out, a crowd would have formed outside in the forest, which meant she would need to run in the other direction to remain unnoticed.
Every inch of her body hurt due to Eric’s beating, but she had no choice. As she stepped into the forest, filled with soldiers and fires erupting left and right, she knew she could escape. She could feel it in her bones.
Keira smiled weakly to herself as she continued running, knowing that all she needed to do was somehow get lost in the forest so no one would be able to find her. She was ready to die in the forest or become a meal to the wolves rather than suffer a life with Eric or be found by someone from the enemy clan. She just needed to run.
“God, help me,” she whispered, navigating through the thick smoke all around her. She tried her best to keep her plaid wrapped tightly around her. Running was becoming difficult for her with every passing second as her legs were starting to hurt, and she struggled to breathe.
Tired and coughing, without being able to see well through the smoke, she ran directly into something. As she tried to clear the smoke with her hand, she saw it wassomeone. The tallest, most muscular man she had ever laid eyes on. A sudden burst of orange flames erupted somewhere close to her, but Keira could not look away from the piercing blue eyes trained on her face.
The man was not dressed in battle armor but simply in a tunic and his kilt, which was enough to tell Keira that he was from the MacPherson clan. Her kilt slipped through her fingers and fell to the ground as he stared at her curiously, trying to understand who she was. His face remained impassive and emotionless. He was beautiful. Keira knew men were not supposed to be described as such, but she had never seen someone who looked the way this man did. Despite the chaos and the running and the flames around her, all Keira could see was this man.
His gaze moved away from her eyes and slowly moved all over her face. Keira couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, suddenly feeling the loss of the kilt over her as she noticed him looking all over her hands and exposed flesh. She immediately understood what he was staring at. Her bruises. She could sense that it was exactly what he was looking at as his eyes suddenly turned wild. Keira feared him, yet she did not once think of backing away or running. He already had a strange pull on her.
He extended his hand towards her, his index finger falling short just short of her face as if he had wanted to trace her scar, the scar given to her by Eric. His hand dropped back to his side, balled tightly into a fist as their eyes once again met. Hers curious, his still raging.
