Page 10 of The Wolf Laird's Obsession
Her eyes drifted past the glass towards the sky, watching a flock of birds fly past towards the mountains with envy.
“It’s time, me Lady.” Flora’s voice pulled her back.
Sorcha adjusted the plaid one more time, taking a deep breath before making her way towards the Great Hall.
Every step she took felt like living someone else’s life.
This is all happenin’ so fast.
But it hit harder as she caught sight of Callan waiting for her in front of the Great Hall doors, his expression cool and collected.
He held out his arm, and she looped hers through it.She wondered what he truly felt in this moment. And if he would ever allow it to show.
Standing there for a moment, she could hear voices drifting through the wood, boots shifting on stone from the other side.
They were waiting.
Were it not for her brother’s steady presence, she might have fallen forward, her head light. She took measured breaths as she tried to calm herself.
Steady. Daenae falter now, Sorcha.
“Are ye ready, Sorcha?” Callan asked.
She did not look at him. She knew if she did, she would break.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between brother and sister had always been easier than tenderness.
At last, Callan cleared his throat.
“Ye’re doing the right thing, Sorcha,” he said quietly. “For our family. For our people.”
The words struck her in a way she had not expected, but they did not make her feel any better. They made her feeltrapped.
She turned then, just enough to see the strain he was trying to hide beneath that calm, and nodded. “I’m ready.”
He gave a signal to the guards, and the doors opened.
For Ailis.
The great hearth was ablaze, heat washing over her as she stepped inside. The hall was filled with many people, but their voices died down as soon as they entered. Her footsteps were too loud in the silence.
At the far end of the hall, Rowan stood tall, overbearing. He looked every bit the warrior the stories portrayed him as. He was broad in the shoulders, built like a man accustomed to battle.
She followed the line of muscle up to his face, where the firelight caught the hard line of his jaw. Dark waves framed the scar she could not get out of her head.
A strange warmth stirred low in her belly before she could stop it.
And then his steel eyes found hers, almost causing her to stumble.
God help me.
The faces along the tables blurred together as Sorcha walked forward, though she could feel their attention following every step she took.
Someone near the benches whispered, “That’s the other sister… Shame he’s marryin’ her.”
They ken. Of course, they ken. By now, the whole castle will have heard that Rowan MacLaren didnae wed the bride he came for.
Her palms grew damp as she crossed the floor, forcing her spine to remain straight.
