 THE
HERO & HEROINE:
LAIRD
CALIN MACLEOD & AKIRA NEISH
The untamed hiss
of the next captive pierced through the drone of bidders. Hair black
as midnight framed her porcelain face—a face twisted into a ferocious
expression of revulsion. Oaths spewed from her mouth in English, French,
Gaelic, and another language Calin didn’t recognize. Two sentries
in black hooded robes restrained her, and unlike the other women, her
hands were bound tightly behind her.
 “Christ,
that’s Akira,” Kendrick announced in a loud whisper then
started for the dais.
“Nay.”
Calin placed a firm hand on Kendrick’s chest. “Dinnae draw
attention to us or our interest in her.” Calin spoke calmly enough,
but his insides were erupting. If the guards dared to strike her, he
was fully prepared to start a war.
She
lunged at the men confining  her
to the platform. The woman certainly didn’t lack for spit and
fire. She was a fighter. Though relieved he’d found her safe,
Calin worried over their initial meeting. Introducing himself to his
bride under these circumstances might prove to be an awkward task.
 THE
BEAST: LAIRD
BAEN KINNON
Laird Baen Kinnon
sat at his trestle table and clutched his throbbing skull. Morning always
brought the same damned ache. The same frigid cold. Dawn’s light
had already cut through the mist and crawled up the tower wall. Gray
light cast a shadow over the young girl cowering in the corner of his
solar. He pointed to a satchel atop a three-legged cuttie stool. “Fetch
me that poke o’ herbs and come fill my cup with ale, wench.”
The
girl shuffled across the moldy floor rushes to do his bidding. She’d
spent the night curled up with a few orange cats in front of an empty
hearth. Had he not been blind drunk, her pathetic bawling would have
kept him up half the night. Luckily, the drink had swiftly overcome
him.
Her tear-spiked
lashes rose just enough for her to peek at him through dirty,
pale hair as she handed him the satchel.
She shivered.
He grinned. Just
being in his presence terrified her, and he had yet to touch her.
 THE
BROTHER: KENDRICK
NEISH
Kendrick’s color turned red, his nostrils flared, and his pose
took on the stance of an angered warrior. Calin suspected he would lose
this battle just as Kendrick dove at him. Calin held one hand out as
a shield, but Kendrick twisted that arm behind him. Within a blink,
Kendrick cradled Calin’s head in the crook of his arm, constricting
the air in his throat.
“Ye be on
Kinnon soil, mon, and it would take verra little to snap your wee neck
between my brawny arms.”
His comment was delivered with such force Calin couldn’t help
but laugh at the man.
Kendrick leaned
to the side to study him. “Are ye addlebrained, mon? Mayhap a
wee bit light in the head?” Kendrick released him with a forceful
shove into a bed of prickly pine needles.
 THE
MISTRESS: CATRIONA
A woman emerging from the woodland caught Akira's eye. Floating over
the lush foliage of the knoll, the woman glowed beneath the fading sun.
Beauty and grace surrounded her every step. Flowing pale blonde hair
bounced at her waist. A slim figure curved neatly into slender hips
under a plain ivory gown. No jewels graced her bodice or her neck, nor
did she wear a plaid, but the woman carried herself with the dignity
of a noble. As she stepped even closer, Akira was mesmerized by the
perfection of her face. High cheekbones pointed to a mouth most men
would betray their country
for. Then Akira looked into a pair of silver eyes. Not a blemish of
color hid in the flecks. Foreboding crawled up her spine. Immediately,
Akira felt uncomfortable in her presence.
The woman embraced
her in a cold hug. When she spoke, her teeth sparkled. “You must
be Calin’s new wife. ’Tis such an honor to finally meet
you.”
“I
am Akira. And ye are?”
The woman’s
smile broadened when she brushed her long blonde locks over her shoulder.
“I am the laird’s mistress, Catriona.”
 THE
BRAGGART: JAIME
MACLEOD
“Aye, M’lady. The name’s Jaime.” He, too, pressed
his lips to her knuckles, but didn’t release her hand as Alec
had. “I have nay wife, but if ye’ve any sisters as bonnie
as ye, I’m sure to be lookin’.”
A blush heated
her cheeks beneath Jaime’s flattery. Calin’s kin certainly
excelled in the art of wooing. She fell into a trance under the dreamy
hue of aqua-blue eyes. Jaime had a hint more blonde streaked through
his beard, and she knew he would be strikingly handsome beneath his
whiskers. Certainly, he would have no trouble finding a wife with his
face.
 THE
SISTER: ISOBEL
NEISH
Jaime held Akira's sister, Isobel, in his arms, and she looked as irritated
as he looked happy.
“Put me
down, ye heathen.” Isobel slapped Jaime’s chest while he
twirled her into the chamber. “I swear ye are a swine, Jaime MacLeod.
The mon tried to kiss me the whole way here.”
Although Isobel
spoke to Akira, her stormy eyes never left Jaime’s face. He set
her in a high-backed chair.
“Why
did ye not ride with Kendrick?” Akira couldn’t contain her
smile. Jaime was a devil, and she didn’t have to guess why he
was clean-shaven.
“The brute
insisted I ride with him.” Isobel’s flame-kissed locks fell
in disarray over angry green eyes when she scowled at Jaime standing
possessively overtop her.
 THE
AUNT & UNCLE: WANDA
& KERK
“Ye should be ashamed o’ yourselves.” Calin’s
Aunt Wanda rounded the entranceway and seated every man with a piercing
gaze. Dark-red fiery tresses framed the ire burning in her cheeks. Calin
sensed the wrath she was about to unleash would topple the Devil’s
battalion. Though unaware of how long she’d listened to their
deliberations, he could only hope she sided with him. He needed an ally.
Wanda
filled her lungs with air, glared at Uncle Kerk, and directed her long
finger
at him. “It galls me to call ye husband. Ye may as weel have branded
her a whore. I’ve the mind to take a blade to your bollocks and
have Mattie cook them slowly over the spit. Ye’ve nay use for
them. Ye have displayed nay courage in the titles ye bear. Nay loyalty
to your kinswomen.”
 Uncle
Kerk’s adam’s apple slid up and down while his eyes rounded.
“Darling, ye—”
“Dinnae darling
me, ye addleheaded arse. Think ye King James is a force to be reckoned
with. Wait till your women hear o’ your decision.” Her eyes
narrowed yet further. “Ye are worthless men. Ye think with your
cocks and not with your minds. Weel, I hope your cocks keep ye warm
at night, for your kinswomen will not.”
 THE
ADVERSARY: GORDON
MACLEOD
Gordon, who was easily the oldest, wore a surly frown. The skin beneath
his eyes weighed heavily downward, which told her laughter didn’t
find his face often. He would undoubtedly be the hardest to befriend.
She stood before him, matching his scowl. “That is assuming ye
have wives. One might think it a difficult task to find a wife when
one does not speak.”
Gordon didn’t
respond, as she expected, nor did he return her look. Crossing her arms
defiantly over her chest, she spoke to Calin, but never once
removed her stare from Gordon. “M’laird, when I am your
lady wife, will I have the authority to give your men permission to
speak?”
“Aye.”
“For
the nonce, I’d like ye to give them permission to speak to me.”
Akira thought she caught the hint of a smile threatening Gordon’s
face, but she doubted he would crack so easily.
“Just because
I give them permission does not mean they will exchange pleasantries
with ye.”
She
spun around to glare at Calin, her long tresses whipped over her shoulder
with the sharp action. Pain stabbed her temples. This did nothing to
improve her temper. “Then order them to converse with me.”
 AKIRA'S
CONFIDANT & HER WEAKNESS:
AILEEN
MACLEOD &
ANDREW
MACLEOD
Alec,
and a woman Akira guessed was Alec’s wife, Aileen, scurried after
their children. Red-gold locks fell over her face when Aileen bowed.
“A thousand pardons, M’lady. They dinnae know their manners.”
Aileen attempted to peel the boy from Akira’s neck.
He
wouldn’t let go. Wrinkling his nose, he gave his mother a sour
expression and tightened his grasp.
Aileen apologized repeatedly. “Andrew, release M’lady this
instant.”
 “I
cannae, Mammie. I love her.”
That
did it.
Akira
laughed outright while a blush burned her face to the tips of her ears.
Aileen
forcefully pulled Andrew off and dropped him to his feet beside her.
“Ye can love her from a distance.”
The
boy snuggled into his mother’s skirts then gave Akira a tiny wave
before
sticking his thumb in his mouth. The boy had far too many teeth for
such a
habit and Akira knew, with nary a doubt, lil’ Andrew was coddled.
THE
SUPPORTER: ELSBETH
 Holding
her hand, Akira noticed the bloodstains speckling her fingertips from
multiple pinpricks. But what intrigued her more, were the faint remnants
of bruises on her wrists and forearms, and the yellow tint of an aged
bruise alongside her high cheekbones. Why would such a timid woman carry
such marks? And especially one with child?
“Elsbeth,
do ye stay in the keep or have ye a family?” Akira queried nonchalantly,
wanting to know more about her.
“I live outside
the bailey with my husband, Ian, and my son.”
“So
ye already have one child. Ye and your husband must be excited about
the arrival of your second.” Akira knew she’d overstepped
her bounds. Elsbeth really wasn’t showing to the degree anyone
might notice, but Akira had seen her hand flatten over her stomach at
least twice while the woman had dressed her.
Elsbeth caressed
her stomach. “I am not very far along. Ian does not yet know.”
Of
course, there are many more characters;
Lena
Kinnon—The BEAST's wife (Akira's mother)
Darach Kinnon—supposed son of Baen Kinnon
Murrdock and Vanora—Kendrick and Akira’s "parents"
Neala—Akira's sister
Riona and Fiona—Akira's sisters
Maggie—Akira's sister
Logan Donald—Maggie's husband
Father
Harrald—Man of the cloth of the Isle of Skye
Sister Esa—Nun at Beauly Priory.
Gunnie—Midwife
Brady—Elsbeth's son
Evie and Tara—Akira’s Maids
Alec—Calin's warrior
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