Page 50 of Tempted by a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #9)

CHAPTER TWO

H er breathing ragged and every inch of her body screaming in pain, Isolde stopped and leaned against the wide trunk of a tree.

She was cold, soaked to the bone, and exhausted.

It felt like she’d been running for hours but when she turned back, she could still see the tall, imposing walls of Moy Castle in the distance, so she knew it hadn’t been that long.

The thick trunks of the trees and heavy foliage distorted sound, preventing her from pinpointing her location.

And with the storm still raging overhead, it further obscured the sound of her flight.

Unfortunately, the echo of the voices that reverberated through the forest also kept her from knowing how many men were actually out there.

Out to get me!

“Sounds like his whole bleedin’ army is out there,” she muttered.

“This way. I think she went this way!”

The man’s voice sounded close—too close.

It sent a lightning bolt of fear crackling through her veins.

Despite the protest of her muscles and lungs, Isolde turned and ran through the darkness, doing her best to move fast while trying to avoid rocks, exposed roots, or anything else that might trip her up.

She was so close to freedom the last thing she wanted was to turn an ankle, or worse.

The whinny of a horse and a man’s grunt stopped her in her tracks.

She ducked down behind a screen of bushes when the flicker of a torch cut through the darkness.

The soldier was just on the other side of the thick foliage, making Isolde draw a sharp breath.

Her heart hammered so hard in her breast, she feared he was going to hear it over the steady thrum of rain on the forest canopy overhead.

“Ye see her?” said the man.

“Nay. Nae yet,” came the voice of a second man she hadn’t seen.

“We need tae find her or Laird Mackintosh will have our heads.”

“Aye. Probably so,” said the second man. “But how? ‘Tis a lot of ground out here tae cover. The lass could be anywhere.”

“Dae ye think it matters tae the laird?” the first man said dryly. “He gave us orders and expects those orders tae be followed, whether they’re reasonable or nae.”

“’Tis nae a good night fer him. First Cameron and now his daughter. The man looked ready tae put his bleedin’ fist through the curtain wall.”

“Aye. But nae a good night fer him means ‘tis a worse night fer us.”

The man chuckled ruefully. “Aye. ‘Tis true. Come, let’s keep lookin’. The princess couldnae have gotten too far. She’s probably hidin’ among the trees. Let’s find her.”

As the hoofbeats of the horses receded, Isolde let out a long breath that came out in a thick plume of steam. She trembled wildly and not only from the cold.

That was close .

“They cannae catch me. I cannae let them take me back tae him,” she whispered, trying to encourage herself.

Pushing herself to her feet, Isolde ran in the opposite direction the soldiers had gone and stepped into a clearing. The flash of lightning bathed the world in a silvery luminescence brighter than the sun.

“Bleedin’ hell,” she groaned.

On the other side of the clearing were two of her father’s soldiers on horseback. The flash of lightning allowed her to see them—but it also allowed them to see her.

“She’s there!” the first man called as he pointed to her.

A sharp squeak burst from her mouth and as the two men spurred their horses, getting them racing across the clearing, Isolde turned and plunged back into the forest.

“Here! Here!” the soldier shouted. “She’s over here!”

She cut around the wide, thick trunk of a massive tree and risked a glance over her shoulder.

She could see the bobbing light of a torch as the soldiers gave chase on foot, but they were well behind her.

A small grin curled her lips as she weaved around a bush and all at once, she felt her stomach lurch.

Her feet were somehow no longer on solid ground and Isolde felt weightless.

She had but a moment to register that she had stepped off the steep incline of a creek bed she had not seen in the dark.

Isolde couldn’t stop the scream that burst from her mouth as she dropped like a stone.

The impact with the side of the creek bed jarred her bones and drove the breath from her lungs.

She tumbled down the embankment until she hit the frigid water with a loud splash.

She ended up on her backside in a seated position in the soft, silty bottom.

Isolde gasped, trying to catch her breath.

Before she could get to her feet, four of her father’s soldiers—two on either side of the creek bed—leaned over the edge. Their flickering torches glinted off the surface of the water around her. They all smiled down at her.

“There ye are,” said Merrick—a man she knew to be a captain of her father’s castle guard.

Tears of frustration spilled from the corners of her eyes as a powerful wave of fear washed over her. She clenched her jaw and tried to keep any more from falling. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

“Let me go,” she said, her voice calm and steady.

“I’m afraid we cannae dae that, Lady Isolde,” he answered. “Yer faither tasked us with bringin’ ye back tae Moy Castle.”

“Ye dinnae want tae dae this,” she said, putting a tone of menace into her voice. “I promise ye that I will make ye pay if ye dae this.”

The four men glanced at one another, then shared a laugh. Merrick turned back to her, his face etched with amusement.

“Nay offense intended, Lady Isolde, but we fear yer faither far more than we fear ye.”

Isolde got to her feet and glared at all of them in turn, marking their faces. She could see they did not take her seriously and thought she was little more than a joke, like her father. The fear in her breast dissolved and was quickly replaced by a dark rage.

The men were closing in on her though. No matter how hard she pushed herself, she wasn’t able to open a gap between them. She had no choice but to stand and fight.

Pulling one of the daggers she’d lifted from the armory from the sheath on her belt, she spun around quickly and slashed. The man who’d been reaching for her howled in agony as she opened a slice along the palm of his hand.

“Let’s nae have any more of this nonsense, Lady Isolde,” he said.

She slashed at him with her blade, trying to scare him off.

But as the tip of her dagger whistled past his chin, he stepped inside her guard, grabbed her by the wrist, and gave it a twist. Isolde cried out in pain and the dagger fell from her grip, hitting the creek with a soft splash.

The man behind Isolde grabbed her by the shoulders.

She fought and thrashed to break free of their hands but they held her fast. Merrick frowned at her.

“Why are ye runnin’?” he asked. “The way I hear it, ye’re goin’ tae be marryin’ a rich man who’ll give ye everything ye could ever want.”

“Ye’d never understand,” she hissed.

“I tell ye this, lads, if I was told I had tae marry a rich, beautiful lass, wear silks and velvets every day and have servants and chambermaids tae tend tae me every need fer the rest of me life, I’d never complain once,” he said.

The men holding her laughed and grunted their agreement with their captain as Merrick bound her hands and hauled her out of the creek. Every step toward their horses felt like a step toward the gallows.

A movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She opened her mouth to say something but didn’t have the chance as the thick branches of the bushes parted with a loud rustle and something burst from them.

A man. A very large man.