"I have no need for alliances with the conquered," Lachlan cuts him off, his attention still fixed on me. "Your kingdom falls today. The only question is whether it falls with unnecessary bloodshed or with a... more civilized transition."
He moves closer, and it takes all my will not to retreat. He towers over me, his shadow engulfing me completely. Up close, I can see the scar that bisects his left eyebrow, the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes that speak of years squinting against highland sun and snow.
"What do you want with me?" I demand, hating the way my voice wavers.
His hand rises, and I flinch—but he only captures a strand of my hair that's fallen free, rubbing it between his fingers as if testing its texture. "You will be my wife," he says simply. "Our marriage will legitimize my claim to these lands. Your people will accept my rule more readily with their princess at my side."
The hall spins around me. Marriage? To this brute, this conqueror who has brought nothing but fear and destruction? I want to spit in his face, to scream defiance until my throat tears.
Instead, I say, "And if I refuse?"
Lachlan releases my hair but steps even closer. I can smell him now—leather and metal and male sweat, the scent of battle still clinging to his skin. "Then I will still take you, Princess. But your people will suffer for your pride." His voice drops lower, meant for my ears alone. "You've heard the stories of what happens to kingdoms that resist me beyond reason, haven't you?"
I have. Villages burning. Men slaughtered. Women and children... I swallow hard.
"You wouldn't," I whisper, but uncertainty gnaws at my conviction.
"To break your defiance? I would." His eyes hold mine, letting me see the truth in them. This man will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. And right now, what he wants is me.
"Why marriage?" I ask, desperately seeking some way out, some crack in his resolve. "Why not simply take the kingdom?"
"Because I want more than just this land." His gaze drops to my mouth, then lower, a slow perusal that feels like physical touch. "I want you beneath me, Princess. I want your submission in my bed as well as in my kingdom."
Heat floods my face—shame, anger, and something else I refuse to name. Something that makes my knees weak and my breath short.
From the corner of my eye, I see my father's face crumple. He knows, as I do, that we've lost more than just a battle today.
"You have until sundown to prepare yourself," Lachlan says, stepping back at last. "We will be wed tonight, before your people and mine. A union of our kingdoms."
"A conquest," I correct him, finding my voice again. "Not a union."
He smiles fully now, a flash of white teeth in his dark beard. "Call it what you will, Princess. The outcome remains the same." His gaze sweeps over me once more, lingering at the curve of my waist, the swell of my breasts beneath my gown. "You are mine now."
I want to slap him. I want to run. I want to do a thousand things that would end with me dead or worse. Instead, I stand my ground and let my eyes convey every ounce of my loathing.
"I will never be yours," I tell him, the words a vow. "You may take my kingdom, you may even take my body, but you will never have me."
Lachlan laughs, the sound echoing off the stone walls like thunder. "We shall see, Princess." He turns and strides away, barking orders to his men as he goes. "Secure the castle. Treat the inhabitants with respect—they are to be my subjects now, not my enemies."
As he disappears through the doorway, my legs finally give out. I sink to the floor, my body trembling with delayed shock and fear.
My father kneels beside me, his face gray. "Fiona, I'm sorry. If there were any other way..."
I clutch his hand. "What do I do?" I whisper, allowing myself this one moment of weakness before I must face my fate.
He pulls me close, and I smell the familiar scent of him—ink and parchment and the mint leaves he chews when deep in thought. "You survive," he murmurs into my hair. "You endure. And when the time is right, you find a way to reclaim what is ours."
I nod against his shoulder, drawing strength from his words. But as I raise my head, I catch sight of Lachlan through the open doorway. He's watching me, his eyes dark with possessive intent.
A shiver runs through me, fear mingled with something I refuse to acknowledge. Tonight, I will become his wife. But I will never, ever be his queen.
No matter what it takes, I will find a way to destroy Lachlan Drummond before he destroys me.
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Lachlan
