Page 21 of Highlander’s Wild Lass (Wild McLeans #1)

Prologue

A lexander’s breath hung in the air in front of him. His heart pounded in his chest as he lay between the bushes fighting to calm his breath. Every sound echoed in his ears as the leaves crackled like thunder under his weight. Although it was a cold night, his garment was soaked from the sweat dripping off his body.

“Alexander,” a voice whispered urgently.

His heart leaped in fear as the warmth drained from him. Frozen with terror, he dared not move an inch, his throat closing around each breath.

“Alexander,” the voice came again, closer than before. Alexander’s mind raced as he tried to place the man’s voice. In the pit of his stomach, he knew it wasn’t the men his father sent. The voice was far too frail and hushed to be a threat.

Mustering all the strength he could, Alexander shifted, letting the leaves under him crackle and pop. Against his better judgment, he rose to his feet and stole away behind the trunk of the nearest tree. Peering through the dark shroud of night, a shadowy figure emerged. As the figure drew closer, Alexander’s heart dropped into his stomach.

Instinctively, his hand darted to his dirk, only to find the weapon gone. Panic set in as he sized up his opponent. Pulling in sharp breaths, he waited like a cat for his moment to pounce.

“Where are ye, lad?” the voice whispered urgently.

With his leg muscles twitching, Alexander’s eyes narrowed. Just a few more steps and I’ll have ye.

The silver light of the moon cut through the mist and fog. Alexander let out a breath of relief and allowed his body to ease as he scanned the area before cautiously popping his head out from around the tree.

How could he have found me so soon? Was he a part of the mob too? Do I dare trust him?

With no other person in sight, Alexander dared to step out from around the tree.

“Here,” Alexander whispered on seeing the old familiar wrinkled face. The smile on the old man’s face was unexpected. Remaining cloaked by the shadows, Alexander didn’t move, but merely waited for the old stable hand to come to him.

“I packed food and water for ye, lad,” the stable hand said, thrusting a sack into Alexander’s hands. “Now, ye must run as far as ye can, daenae stop till ye’ve gotten to the next town. Daenae trust anyone, ye hear?”

Alexander hesitated. Could this be a trap? There’s nay tellin’ if they had time to poison the food.

“How did ye…”

“I saw ye escape the guards yer faither sent and I thought ye would come here to hide,” the man explained. “I daenae support trading words with an angry mob, now ye must make haste.” The old man pushed Alexander away as muffled voices and the barking of hounds caused Alexander’s ears to perk. His heart felt heavy as he stared at the old man a moment.

The yellow light of torches lit up in the distance as the voices grew louder.

“Go now, run!” the man whispered fiercely.

Alexander didn’t hesitate. Giving a swift nod of his head, Alexander took off through the woods. His legs burned from the exertion, but the pain was nothing compared to the cracking of his heart. His mind raced as images of his father flashed before his eyes.

How could his fortune change so much in one day? It was just this very morning he was walking the horses and now, on the run for his very life. Accused by his own flesh and blood of murder. Tears blurred his vision as thorns cut into the soles of his feet and scraped against his legs. Still he pushed on as he angrily raked his hand across his face while his father’s last words seared into his memory forever.

“Take him to the dungeon,” his father’s voice thundered through the castle as he glared at Alexander with seething hatred. “He shall be brought to trial in a fortnight for his crimes.”

“Faither, I am innocent! Please, ye must believe me. Why would I do such a thin’? I love my brother.”

“Ye’re nay son of mine.”