Page 30 of Intrigued By A Highlander (Highland Revenge Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER 30

D ru ran until her lungs burned, until the branches clawed at her arms like angry fingers and her legs threatened to give out beneath her. She reached the stream and crouched behind a fallen log, eyes scanning the trees. The footfalls chasing after her had faded but she still worried she may have been followed. She took no chances, she remained hidden.

It was difficult to see at night especially in the forest, but Knox was too large not to be spotted even in the dark. She didn’t see him, and she worried. He should’ve been here by now.

A crack of underbrush behind her froze her breath. She turned, ready to fight.

A rough hand blocked her swing while someone seized her other arm and dragged her to her feet.

Callan stepped from behind the trees like a ghost, his men fanning out behind him. Dru thrashed against the grip on her, boldly yelling at them to let her go, but Callan only watched her with quiet triumph.

“Where is he?” she demanded, finally calming down, her thrashing doing little good, and her need to know about Knox’s fate more important.

Callan didn’t answer right away. He came closer, close enough that she could see the gleam of sweat on his brow, the slight rise in his chest. He’d been chasing them too.

He let out a slow breath. “Knox is dead.”

Dru’s heart stilled. For a moment, she couldn’t get her breath, then she rushed to say, “You’re lying.”

Callan’s hand caught her cheek hard. “Watch your mouth with me, granddaughter. Your husband took a nasty blow to the head. Lost too much blood. We found him in the dirt and that is where we left him.”

She yanked her arm free. “You’re a liar,” she spat, not believing him. “Just like you lied about my mother.”

His gaze flickered for just a second. Then his hand struck her again, snapping her head to the side with the force of the blow.

Dru’s cheek stung but she didn’t care. The thought that her husband might be dead unleashed her fury.

“You told me that my mother knew Lord Randall before she left the clan. That she chose him over duty.” Dru shook her head, rage rising in her throat like fire. “You lied. She didn’t run away to be with someone. She ran to escape someone.”

Callan went to hit her again and she ducked and punched him in the stomach, hitting him in just the right place to illicit a groan from him.

“You’re going to learn your place,” Callan said, through gritted teeth as he dealt with the pain.

“Tell me what hell you were condemning my mum to.” Her voice trembled now, from more than cold or fear. She wanted answers. She needed them. “What happened, Callan? What the hell was my mum running from?”

For a moment, the woods went quiet. Callan’s jaw shifted, as if grinding down words he didn’t want to say. He looked past her, into the shadows.

Dru stared at him, heart thudding. “Are you too much of a coward to tell me?”

“At least your mother knew how to hold her tongue, but you’ll learn how to hold yours soon enough,” he sneered as if victory was his.

“Not likely,” she snapped. “I got my tenaciousness from you. I’ll never give in.”

Callan’s face contorted with something darker than anger—wounded pride, buried fury. “Duty. That’s what your mother spat on. That’s what she ran from.”

Dru blinked, startled by the venom in his voice.

“She had a duty to her clan. To me. To our people. But instead of doing what was necessary, she chose cowardice.”

He took a step closer, jabbing a finger at her chest. “You want the truth? You want to hear how your mother failed her clan? How much her clan hates her. I’ll tell you. An agreement was struck. A northern clan—strong, brutal, but rich in weapons and numbers. They promised warriors in exchange for blood ties. Your mother was to wed the chieftain’s son. That was the price.”

Dru’s stomach turned. “You said brutal clan. Did you promise her to a monster?”

Callan’s eyes flared. “Some believed him so. Two wives buried before him, both bruised and broken. But he kept his word. He fought for those he claimed. And with his men, I could’ve taken the high glens, the western hills. I could’ve secured the clan’s future. Especially against Clan Glencairn, Lord Randall having his sights set on several of the northern clans.”

“So, you sacrificed her?” Dru could only imagine the horror and fear her mum must have known and it broke her heart. “She would have suffered at his hands.”

“She would have saved us!” he roared, the forest echoing his fury. “Instead, she vanished. Gone without a word, disappeared into the mist. And the alliance crumbled.” His hands curled into fists. “The Northmen turned on us. We were nearly wiped out. My warriors died. Our stores were burned. Crofts torched. Our people starved because of her.”

Dru felt her pulse throb at her throat. “Yet you said nothing, did nothing all these years…”

“I couldn’t.” Callan’s voice dropped, bitter now. “I had no time to search for her. No men to spare. No coin to send south. I buried what she did because I had to keep the clan standing on its last, splintered legs.” He stepped closer to her. “And you, granddaughter, will redeem our honor. You will wed the son of the warrior your mother should have wed, and with their army of savage warriors, I will lay claim to endless clans surrounding mine, including Clan Glencairn, and I will see your half-brother dead.”

Pain dragged Knox from the dark, clawing him back into his body like a curse. The ache in his skull pulsed with every heartbeat, and the cold earth beneath him had seeped into his bones.

He blinked.

Dru.

He had to get to Dru.

A shadow moved beside him, crouched at the edge of a low-burning fire. Broad shoulders. Dark hair, the fire’s light highlighting the silver strands running through it.

Knox pushed himself up on an elbow with a groan.

“About time you woke.”

Knox blinked harder, his vision slowly sharpening. “Quint?”

The man turned his head, one brow arching. “So, you remember me.”

“Hard to forget the way you cut through men like wheat or that you’re infamously known as The Monk, for reasons I won’t mention.”

“Wise decision.”

Knox sat up and pressed a hand to his temple, fingers coming away bloody. “What are you doing here?”

Quint stirred the fire absently. “A message came a while ago. Said if I didn’t hear from Dru within a certain time, it meant she was in trouble, and she needed my help.” He looked up, eyes sharp. “She’s a friend. Helped me once. I owe her.”

Knox’s jaw clenched. “Dru is my wife and she’s been taken by Callan, a chieftain from the north clans.”

“So, Busby wasn’t telling a tale. You and Dru are wed,” Quint said with a slight smile. “I hope you know what you’re in for wed to that little hellion.”

“By the time I found out, I was too much in love with her to care. And right now, all I care about is finding her. We were captured by Callan’s men. We escaped last night and had to separate. I was hit—didn’t make it far.” He looked around the dark forest. “I need to get to a particular spot by the stream. That’s where we were to meet if separated. I’m not sure if she’s there or has been captured by Callan again. He wants her more than he cares what happens to me.”

“How many men?”

“It didn’t look like many, but I think he has more than we see and the notion that comes to mind how he might successfully get her north without a problem worries me.”

“How so?”

“He promised her in marriage, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the prospective husband and his warriors joined him on the journey here,” Knox said, not having shared that thought with Dru since she had enough to worry about.

“You would be a fool to go after her alone. You need an army and fast.”

“Yeah, I’ll just snap my fingers, and one will appear,” Knox said and went to snap them when he heard a sharp crack of a branch.

Dru startled awake, heart pounding, breath catching in the back of her throat. For one brief, beautiful moment she forgot where she was. Then the cold ground beneath her and the heaviness in her chest dragged her back to the truth.

Knox couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t be.

Callan had said it last night, his voice calm, unfeeling, like the words meant nothing. But they meant everything. She hadn’t wept. Not yet. She didn’t believe it. So, she wouldn’t let any pain settle in deep enough to crack her wide open. However, it did linger just beneath the surface, waiting.

A low rumble echoed in the distance. At first, she thought it was thunder, but then the ground trembled beneath her, and her breath hitched.

It wasn’t thunder.

Hoofbeats. Dozens or more.

She scrambled to her feet, heart thudding as hard as the approaching horses. Hope flared in her chest, wild and rapid.

Knox.

He’d come for her. He’d defied death and found her. He’d come to take her away from this nightmare.

She glanced around and not a single warrior stirred nor did Callan. He sat calmly, sharpening a blade, unconcerned.

He didn’t look up. “You’ll want to tidy yourself.”

Dru froze. “What for?”

He glanced at her then. No joy. No worry. Just calculation. “Your future husband approaches.” He rose, sliding the blade into its sheath. “I’m sure you’re eager to meet him.”

She was at a loss for words as the riders came into view, thundering over the rise. They came to a halt, the ground quaking with the power of their horses. And at the center, a man dismounted. He was massive, shoulders like boulders, dark hair falling in tangled waves, a jagged scar running down one side of his face. His dark eyes swept over Dru with a flick of contempt.

“This is the one?” he asked Callan, his voice like gravel dragged over rock.

Callan gave a short nod. “Aye, Hakon.”

Hakon stepped closer, circling her once like a man inspecting livestock.

“She’s small,” he muttered, stopping in front of her. “Could be worthless.”

Dru lifted her chin, fury simmering now where grief had only just begun to take root. “Who could be any more worthless than you?”

The man grinned, cruel and humorless, then grabbed her by the chin squeezing it until Dru cringed. “I might enjoy taming you.”

He turned to Callan. “I’ll take her, though I doubt she’ll last long.”

Dru’s fists clenched, her spine stiffening as Hakon gestured to one of his men. “I’m not going anywhere with you, arsehole.”

Hakon raised his hand high and Dru braced for a hit that she knew would knock her off her feet.

It never came. All eyes turned, attention caught by a loud stirring in the woods, then a voice cut through the air—bold and powerful.

“Strike her and I’ll tear your heart out of your chest.”

Hakon froze.

Dru’s breath caught. She turned slowly, afraid to believe what her ears had heard. But she knew that voice. Knew it in her bones.

“She’s not going anywhere with you, arsehole. My wife is going home with me.”

Knox stepped from the tree line, tall and steady, sword slung across his back, eyes hard as forged steel.

Dru didn’t cry out, didn’t move. She didn’t have to. The fire blazing in her chest told her what she needed to know—he was real. Alive. And he’d come for her like he promised he always would.

Callan stepped forward with a lazy smirk, but Dru saw the shift in his stance—the flicker of caution. “I thought you were dead.”

“You hoped I was,” Knox said, gaze locked on him.

Hakon let out a short, dry laugh. “This is her husband? I’ve split logs thicker than him. I will make her a widow easily enough.”

Knox’s eyes shifted to the man. “You can try but you’ll fail. I don’t let anyone take what belongs to me and Dru belongs to me.”

Hakon spat on the ground. “She’ll be mine soon enough.”

Callan laughed. “You’re the one who will fail and you’re a fool for coming here alone.”

Knox didn’t flinch. “What makes you think I came here alone?”

Glances shifted around nervously.

Another figure stepped past the trees—Quint. His expression was grim, and his hand rested casually on the hilt of his sword.

The warriors around Hakon burst into laughter. Even Callan chuckled. “Two of you? Against all of us?”

But Dru didn’t laugh. Her eyes scanned the horizon, heart beating harder. Knox wouldn’t come without a plan. And he’d never walk into a fight he couldn’t win.

Then she heard it.

The thunder of hooves.

From the northern rise they came—riders cresting the hill in formation. Not just a handful. An army. Flying the banner of Lord Torrance. They rode hard, blades glinting in the early light, war cries already rising into the air.

The laughter died.

Callan’s jaw tightened.

Hakon moved away from her, his hand reaching for his axe.

Dru couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips as her husband strode over to her and winked playfully before taking a protective stance in front of her.

The thunder of hooves died to a heavy silence as Lord Torrance’s army swept across the area, surrounding Callan’s men in a wide arc.

Lord Torrance brought his stallion to a halt in front of Callan and Hakon. He was a beast of a thing, thick-necked and fierce-eyed, stamping the ground as though he too commanded obedience. His warriors around him didn’t cheer. They didn’t need to. Their silence was more terrifying than any war cry.

Dru shivered at the impressive and frightening sight.

Lord Torrance was a man carved from stone and vengeance, known across the Highlands for his brutal tactics, for the way he punished betrayal with fire and steel. Mothers whispered his name to unruly children to make them behave. Men prayed not to catch his eye. And yet he was a man of fine features, a man who foolish women fancied, a man that always got his way.

And now he was here—her half-brother, fierce as ever.

He surveyed the scene with disinterest, then dismounted in one fluid motion, his black cloak sweeping out behind him. His eyes found Dru for a moment—calculating, detached—and then he turned to Callan and Hakon.

“This ends now.”

Callan drew his shoulders back in a gesture of strength. “You overreach, Torrance. Autumn is my granddaughter, and she is coming home with me.”

Torrance’s lips curled slightly. “Your claim means nothing and neither does the proposal you left with Brack. My half-sister’s fate lies in my hands and my hands alone.” He turned to Hakon. “You’ll have no wife today. But fight beside me when the time comes, and I’ll see you matched with a wife worthy of your strength.”

Hakon narrowed his eyes and brazenly said, “What if she does not suit me?”

Lord Torrance pointed to Dru. “Anything would be better than that wisp of a thing. You would be lucky to get one good pounding out of her.”

Hakon laughed.

Knox didn’t. He went to step forward, but Dru caught his arm and whispered, “Let them amuse themselves. We are together. Nothing else matters.” She pressed her brow against his back and murmured, “I love you.”

Her words calmed him, and he stayed as he was, eager to have his wife in his arms soon.

Torrance faced Callan. “You’ve overstepped, attacking a clan under my protection. I’m coming for your lands.”

The words struck like a hammer. Callan’s face twisted in rage. “You smug bastard! You think you can take everything from me?” He surged forward, weapon drawn, eyes wild.

Knox was faster.

He stepped between Torrance and Callan with deadly calm, sword already in hand.

Steel clashed, sparks flared, and Dru’s heart dropped into her stomach.

But Knox was an exceptional warrior. He moved with purpose, every blow calculated, every step solid. Callan fought with fury—sloppy, burning, desperate.

The final blow came swift, a sharp feint, a pivot, and then steel through flesh. Callan crumpled, gasping, disbelief etched across his face as blood pooled beneath him.

Silence followed, broken only by the soft whimper of the wind.

Knox stood over him, chest heaving, blade still in hand, relieved Callan would threaten Dru no more. Now there was only Torrance left to face.

Lord Torrance stepped forward, giving the fallen man one last cold glance before turning to Knox. “Well done.”

He turned to issue orders, his strong voice loud and clear and his words meant to be obeyed.

“Take your chieftain’s body and return home. I expect you to pledge your allegiance to Clan Glencairn or you will feel my wrath.” He looked at Hakon. “A woman will be sent to you soon. Now take your leave and do not show yourself on my land again without permission.”

All obeyed without delay, some of Lord Torrance’s warriors breaking off into two groups. One to follow Callan’s warriors and the other trailing Hakon and his men.

Torrance walked over to Dru, Knox stepping to her side, his arm going around her waist.

He stood towering over her, his expression cold. “It’s time to meet your fate, little sister.”