Chapter Nine

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Lachlan sat at the head of a long table within the dining quarters of his home. He watched as the burly men around him drunkenly laughed and roared above the talk of others, often times standing up only to fall back into their chairs. Lachlan slammed his chalice down, in annoyance, and abruptly stood from his chair.

The men around him noticed his movements and turned their heads to watch him. He easily held up one hand, silencing them. Lachlan's eyes turned dark as the men now realized that it was time to have a serious talk about politics.

"Shaun." Lachlan called out. A large, muscular man tensed in his chair as his gaze met that of the laird's. He must have been one of the few sober men who sat in the room, for his great size made it difficult for him to become affected by the alcohol.

Lachlan continued, his tone not faltering, "What news do ye have of the Ruskin Clan?"

Shaun gave a curt nod, comprehending the question, and then answered, "They have slaughtered many of our flocks, threatened our women and children, and made their intentions known by trespassing on our lands."

Lachlan frowned briefly before a stern look masked his expression. He scanned his eyes around the room and projected his voice for all to hear, "For now on, ye will train from dawn 'til dusk. Any boy whom has reached the age of a man will join these sessions."

A much smaller man asked loudly, "Are we preparing for battle against the Ruskin Clan?"

Lachlan smirked, "Aye, we are preparing to smother those bastards. I willna have them disrupt the peace within my clan any longer. They have taken the lives of two and wrecked havoc across my lands. 'Tis time we give them a taste of their own poison."

Every man in the room roared out in agreement, lifting their chalices to the ceiling and patting one another on the back. Something glistened in Lachlan's eyes as he once again observed the men before him. Only Roderick, who stood to the side, recognized the look in his eyes.

It was that of determination, and he knew the severity of this emotion upon his laird. It meant that Lachlan would strive to seek revenge, and he would take as many lives as he had to in order to accomplish this endeavor. It was a dangerous look, but a look that made Lachlan all the more feared in the lands.

Lachlan did not stay in the room for much longer. He left his men, who were now more boisterous than they had been before, and slipped away into the shadows of the halls.

The laird did not return to his chambers, though, and instead took a sharp turn within the halls. He followed the all too familiar way to Kirstin's room. It was late, and there was no doubt in his mind that she was asleep. He had an urge to check on her sleeping form every night, but only for the assurance that she was alive and well.

He would often a time kiss her still form and take notice to the way she smiled when he did. The reaction made his heart beat heavy within his chest, and only proved his need to protect her all the more.

Lachlan turned the knob to her door and pushed lightly. He was careful to not wake her as he closed the distance between the door and her bed. Though, it was not until he had come only a mere foot away that he could easily see the bed was absent of her sleeping form. He carefully looked around the room as if confirming his suspicion, and then brusquely turned foot and left.

Worried thoughts raced in his mind. With the Ruskin Clan causing mayhem throughout his lands, he could not help but think the worst for the small blonde.

Lachlan did not bother to alert his men of her disappearance, for they were drunk and would only think lesser of him if they knew of his weakness. Lachlan was stubborn as a mule, but he was also all-knowing in many ways. He knew where to look for Kirstin before he asked for assistance in finding her, and he could only hope that she was there.

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