Reluctant (Heroes of the Highlands) (The MacKays #3) by Kerrigan Byrne Read Free Book Online Page A

guards with his blood. He makes allies and enemies, and power is only held by the strongest.”
    Kamdyn made a soft sound of distress. “That is terrible. Your mother allowed that?”
    “Our mothers are usually whores frequented by our Berserker fathers,” he said dispassionately. “They bring us to the temple as infants and leave us for money. Mine is likely dead.”
    Tears sprang to her eyes. “And your father?”
    “Also dead.”
    It was obvious he would say no more about that, so Kamdyn asked another question she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to. “Berserkers never take— a wife?”
    At this, his eyes did spark, and they searched her face with an intensity that left her aching. “ Nie . When our Berserker decides upon a woman, it is forever. We were denied—any women but whores. A few of us tried to mate with them, but they didn’t survive.” If his features became any stonier, they would surely crack.
    Unable to stand any more, Kamdyn lowered her gaze, tracing the grooves of muscle on his ribcage. “Even still, Highlanders are not Berserkers, they’re just people. They don’t deserve to be raided and terrorized.”
    Soren snorted. “Tell that to the Highland men in my camp. To the discarded orphans. The outcast bastards. The children of the ill-conceived, the infirm, and the illiterate. There are plenty of us who have no choice but to take what we can from this life. From those who would never give them a kind word or a chance, let alone something to eat or a warm place to sleep. They take what they must to survive.”
    She’d thought he pillaged because he was from the North and his people were notorious raiders throughout the centuries. Such a thing had never occurred to her, men raiding and pillaging for lack of a better choice.
    Her brows drew together. “I don’t know anyone who needs fine silks and jewels such as those in your chest to survive.”
    “They pay homage to me as their Laird and protector, a charming custom, is it not?” He threw her look full of amused challenge.
    Sighing with exasperation she shook her head. “Yes but, those things do not belong to you. You didn’t earn them.”
    “They are in my possession, so they are mine.” Soren smirked and spun one of her curls around his finger. “For such an immortal creature, you know very little about the world.”
    Kamdyn tossed her piles of hair behind her, wrenching her curl from his toying hand. He frowned at her. “I know that most people work very hard for what they have and they deserve to keep it. I know that every single life is precious— has value and should be respected."
    He slanted a look at her so full of meaning it made her pause. “Even mine?”
She blinked down at his swarthy, enigmatic face. Especially his , she realized. Despite his crimes, it could be argued that Soren was a protector of those most wronged by civilization. He was most certainly a leader among men, it was no wonder they fell in behind him. He’d given them what they needed, a place to belong.
    A Clan.
    Without him, most of these men would be raiding highways and pick-pocketing from markets. They would be drinking in the streets and garroting each other in alleyways. Raping women and preying upon children.
    Aside from all the horrible stories she’d heard about his fiery, destructive raids, it was known that the Laird of Shadows never allowed rape or buggery. He’d publically skewered one of his men who’d attempted such a horror.
    “If you’re only taking supplies, why raze villages to the ground?”
    A flicker of something akin to a wound disappeared from his features before she had the chance to identify it. She hadn’t answered his question, at least not out loud. But he answered hers in the same deep, passionless voice as always. “Those fires are lit by men with grudges against one place or another. I don’t condone or condemn the practice. I am only their unofficial Laird. I am not their King. I am not their God. I do not