Page 4 of The Wolf Laird's Obsession
He stopped mid-stride, wide-eyed as he looked at her. A rare moment of seeing him in shock.
“In London?” he repeated, gritting his teeth as if holding back another curse. He rubbed his hands down his face as he mumbled to himself about intercepting their sister and dragging her back by the hair.
A knot twisted in Sorcha’s stomach, thinking of Laird MacLaren showing up to no bride.
Would he listen to reason, or silence us before we could speak?
“What will we tell Laird MacLaren?” she asked, her breath short.
Callan did not answer at first, and for a moment, Sorcha was not sure if he had heard her.
But then he turned to her, his jaw tight. His expression made her square her shoulders and press her feet into the floor, expecting to be struck by his next words.
“We willnae tell him anything.”
Sorcha quirked an eyebrow, about to question him, but he spoke again.
“Because ye will take Ailis’s place.”
The air seemed to thin as her world closed in on her erratic heart.
Impossible. Laird MacLaren would never accept me as his bride.
Where Sorcha was hard lines and sharp edges, Ailis was full of life, bright, and soft. There was a reason Ailis was chosen and not her. Her gut twisted, thinking of Lord MacLaren’s reaction when he saw her.
“Callan—”
“Sorcha—” Callan interrupted. “MacLaren will be here any moment, and should we welcome him empty-handed?”
He did not need to explain further. Sorcha could imagine every terrible event that would follow.
He was right. But that fact did not make things better. Did not make her want to give in.
Why do I have to fix this?
Her hands fisted, shaking as she struggled not to lash out.
“Laird MacLaren asked for Ailis,” she pointed out.
“He asked for analliance,” Callan corrected, his gaze unwavering. “Alliances daenae vanish because faces change. Ye’re still a Sinclair after all is said and done. Still young enough to bear an heir.”
Sorcha’s eyes widened, and she blushed at his words, her anger fading into embarrassment. So caught up in taking her sister’s place, she almost forgot the duties that came with that.
Her gaze dropped to the floor as she took deep breaths to calm herself.
She’d never been first to be chosen. Never been the answer. But now she was the only choice.
She looked up at Callan.
“If this is what the clan needs,” she answered, keeping her voice steady even though something in her chest cracked. “Then I’ll do it. I’ll marry Laird MacLaren.”
The words had barely left her mouth when the horn sounded outside. Then it sounded a second time. Then a third.
The Highland Wolf had come to claim his bride.
CHAPTER TWO
The large wooden gates of Sinclair Castle groaned as Rowan rode in first. His men followed in disciplined formation behind him, the MacLaren banners a deep green against the pale sky.
