Page 119 of Under the Laird’s Promise

"I'm nae suggesting a direct assault." Keir's voice was ice-cold. "I'm ordering an immediate attack on the MacEwan border villages. Hit them hard. Burn what ye must. Take hostages if possible. Make it impossible fer MacBain tae ignore."

Malcolm's expression shifted. "Ye want tae draw him out."

"Exactly. MacBain fancies himself a hero. A protector. When he hears his future wife's people are being slaughtered, he'll ride out tae defend them." Keir's mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "And when he daes, he'll have tae choose between protecting the borders and staying fer the wedding."

"He might send men instead of going himself," another captain suggested.

"Then we escalate until he has nay choice. We keep attacking until he personally responds. The man's too honorable tae hide behind castle walls while innocents suffer." Keir's voice dripped contempt. "It's his greatest weakness."

"And if he chooses tae defend the borders?"

"Then the wedding is delayed. Maighread loses her window tae marry before her father dies. The Council fractures. Chaos descends. And in that chaos…" Keir spread his hands. "Opportunities arise."

The captains nodded slowly, understanding spreading across their faces.

"When dae we move?" Douglas asked.

"Tonight. Immediately. I want reports of burning villages reaching MacEwan Castle by dawn tomorrow at the latest."

"That daesnae give us much time tae prepare."

"Then stop wasting time standing here." Keir's voice sharpened. "Gather yer men. Ride fast. Strike hard. Make sure MacBain understands the cost of his interference."

The captains bowed and turned to leave. Keir stopped them with a raised hand.

"One more thing. Maighread MacEwan is nae tae be harmed. If ye encounter her, ye capture her and bring her tae me unharmed. Anyone who disobeys that order will answer tae me personally. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly, me laird."

"Good. Now go."

They filed out quickly, already barking orders to the men outside. Within minutes, Keir heard the sounds of mobilization: boots on stone, weapons being gathered, horses stamping in the courtyard.

He returned to the window, watching his forces assemble in the fading light. Dozens of men, all loyal, all capable. More than enough to terrorize a few undefended border villages.

This would work. MacBain would ride out to play the hero. The wedding would be delayed or canceled. And Keir would have another chance to claim what should have been his from the beginning.

Maighread thought she could escape him by hiding behind MacBain's protection. She thought marriage to another man would end his pursuit.

She was wrong.

Keir had been raised to understand a fundamental truth: power was the only thing that mattered. Not love, not honor, not fairness. Just power. The strong took what they wanted, and the weak either submitted or were crushed.

He was strong. MacBain was an interloper. Maighread was a prize worth claiming.

The mathematics were simple.

Footsteps approached from behind. Keir didn't turn.

"The men are ready, me laird," Douglas reported. "We ride within the hour."

"Excellent."

"Are ye certain about this course of action? Once we attack MacEwan lands openly, there's nay going back. This becomes open war."

"It was always going tae be war." Keir's reflection stared back at him from the darkened glass. "MacBain made that choice when he claimed her. I'm simply accepting the terms he set."

"And if Angus MacEwan dies during the chaos? If the clan collapses entirely?"