The Highlander's Servant: Book One of the Highlander Possession Series by Savannah Vining

Laird Bateson.” Something snapped in Graham. It was apparent because his eyes hardened and his mouth had fallen slightly agape as his closed fists clenched repetitively.
                  “Lachlan Bateson, ye say?” he whispered hoarsely.
                  Kirstin swallowed hard, “Aye.”
                  His gaze met hers once more and with one rapid movement, he had her wrist in his hand again. Kirstin, as if on instinct, reached for the dirk that was kept tightly in a sheath by his waist, and had just as quickly slashed his hand. In that one instant, Graham was left roaring in pain with blood gushing from his new wound. He had also let loose of her wrist to cover his wounded hand. She made no hesitance to start running away back towards the buildings of town, all the while hearing Graham yell out, “If ye think yer going to get away with this, yer wrong! Yer mine, ye hear me? MINE!”
                  Kirstin could not have run any faster throughout the crowded market. She had found Alana still chatting with Ewan, and practically clutched her arm with both her hands as a child who had just seen a ghost.
                  “My goodness, dear-“ Alana had begun but was sharply cut off by Kirstin’s wails.
                  “Alana, we must leave. This instant!” Kirstin yelled with tears in her eyes, and only then did she begin to draw attention from the onlookers who stood in the streets.
                  Alana did not take her eyes off of the small blonde, and instead nodded frantically. Whatever had upset Kirstin must be enough reason to return to the manor. With this one thought, the old woman said to the younger one, “Of course.”
                  Alana gave a sorrowful look to Ewan before Kirstin began dragging her away in the direction of her sanctuary. Luckily, the manor was in the direction that led away from where Graham had taken Kirstin. Kirstin had been tugging on Alana’s arm for a good while before the old woman put her heels in the ground and refused to budge.
                  “Alana,” Kirstin cried, her cheeks flushed and eyes wet, “We must keep going! He could be anywhere…” she had trailed off looking about the fields and long road that led back into town.
                  “Who?” Alana pressed, “Who is causing ye all of this distress?”
                  “A man named Graham.” She explained, causing a gasp from Alana.
                  “The same man whom ye spoke with the first day we went into town?”
                  Kirstin furrowed her eyebrows, but then remembered how Alana and Graham had exchanged an antagonistic look towards one another, “Aye. Do ye ken him?”
                  “Oh, Child!” Alana cried, “Do I know him! Why, he is Laird of the Ruskin Clan and son of the dead Laird Ronan.”
                  Kirstin recognized the name of Laird Ronan instantly, knowing that it was him who had killed Lachlan’s father and left him in a miserable state after his mother’s death.
                  “Donna tell me that man has a fondness for ye?” Alana said once more, and Kirstin nodded. “Then we must hurry and tell the Laird!” This time it was Alana who had grabbed Kirstin’s wrist and began pulling her down the road.
                  “Nay!” cried out Kirstin, “We canna. What if he thinks me disloyal?”
                  Alana waved a hand in the air as she quickened her pace, “Nonsense. Laird Bateson loves ye. He will believe ye over that terrible Laird Ruskin.”
                  Kirstin didn’t say much more as Alana began dragging her once more down the road, and before she could grasp what was happening, they had bounded into the dining halls to where her betrothed ate his late brunch. She did not know which caught her more off guard;