Page 3 of Laird of Wrath

“Aye,” Rhea uttered, trying her best not to sound bitter about it. “I ken ye did.”

I have nay illusions of love, was left unsaid.

She used to, once. She used to think that a man like her father would allow her to marry whoever she wished, the man her heart had chosen. And yet fate had other plans.

Whether her heart wished it or not, her duty now was clear to her. She was Callum’s wife, and certain things were expected of her, even that night.

Numbness crawled up her arms, followed by a strange feeling in her stomach, one that was not wholly unpleasant. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t been thinking about it all day, ever since the short and bleak ceremony at the castle chapel. But now, sitting across from Callum in a dark and quiet room, she was more aware of her wifely duties than ever.

“I only wish we could have had more time,” she added with a small shrug. “I daenae understand why ye must leave at dawn.”

“Because the situation is dire,” Callum said.

He isnae much of a talker.

“I understand that, but is it truly so dire that ye cannae delay it a single day?”

“Our weddin’ couldnae be delayed a single day,” he reminded her. They had hardly had any time to prepare for it, nothing more than a hasty courtship and a poorly-planned feast. “So nay, it cannae be delayed.”

“I ken nothin' about this place,” Rhea pointed out. “I… I daenae ken what ye expect of me.”

“Then I shall tell ye.” Callum leaned a little closer, though their chairs were still too far from each other to come anywhere near her. “I expect ye to perform yer duties as the lady of the clan, and I expect ye to take care of me sister.”

Sienna.

Rhea had seen the young woman at the ceremony and then at the feast. They had even sat at the same table, though they had exchanged few words. Still, from what she had seen, Sienna seemed perfectly kind.

It wasn’t Sienna that Rhea was worried about.

“Of course,” she agreed with a firm nod. “Ye have me word.”

Callum nodded in response, but then fell silent once more. He turned his gaze to the flames, their orange glow reflecting in his eyes, and Rhea sat there, watching him, equally silent.

But not quite as still. Where Callum had relaxed into his seat, she was anxious, fidgeting. She wanted to say something, anything, just to fill the silence, but Callum wasn’t giving her anything she could work with. So instead, she said the first thing that came to mind.

“How did ye like the feast?”

Callum turned her gaze back to her, looking incredulous. “I have been to funerals that were more joyous.”

Rhea stared at him in disbelief for a few moments. Then she burst out laughing, the sound sudden and jarring even to her. She couldn’t help it. There she was, trying to maintain some sort of decorum, and he didn’t seem to care for such things one bit.

He was right, though. The wedding had been rather bleak.

Before she knew it, Callum was standing before her, leaning close, and her breath left her in a long, sharp exhale. He was staring right into her eyes, gray into brown, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. His palm was warm, so warm, much like the flames that heated the other side of her face. His gaze was piercing, and his lips, when they found her neck with a soft, tender touch, sent a shiver down her spine.

Surrender was such an easy option. She could give in to him. She could give in to the surge of pleasure that coursed through her when his lips brushed against the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder, to the hand on her waist that was as possessive as it was grounding.

But it was too much, too soon. They hardly knew each other, and Rhea didn’t know how to trust a man who was practically a stranger.

“Ye’re tremblin’.”

She hadn’t even realized it until Callum stopped and pulled back from her, bringing her back to the present. She was trembling, indeed. She was shaking from head to toe, and she supposed the idea of bedding her when she was in such a state was far from appealing to him.

“We… we hardly ken each other,” she stammered, giving voice to her concerns. “And ye’re leavin’ at dawn to go to war, and I… I daenae understand how I am the only person worryin’ over this. Ye could die. Does nay one else care? Doyenae care?”

She couldn’t understand how everyone could act as if everything was normal. Nothing about their courtship or their marriage was normal. Nothing about their circumstances was normal, and yet no one was saying a thing.

Callum frowned, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what she was saying.