Page 40 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

“Dae ye think it’ll be much longer?” Iona’s voice was tight, her hands clenched in her lap, betraying the anxiety she couldn’t contain. Her gaze flicked nervously to the narrow door of the stone shelter, her pulse quickening with every passing second.

Niamh sat beside her, unmoving, though her eyes darted to the door every so often.

She didn’t answer immediately, her lips pressed tightly together, and the lines of her face hardened in a way that spoke of her own unspoken fears.

The sounds of war outside echoed faintly in the distance, and with it came a heavy silence inside the stone shelter that pressed down on Iona’s chest.

The walls around them felt like they were closing in. The castle’s thick stone had been a refuge, but in this moment, it felt like a trap.

“As long as Ruaridh and Alistair need,” Niamh answered quietly, her voice calm but edged with the same tension Iona could feel in the air.

Iona nodded, though her stomach tightened with worry. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what was happening above, but she knew one thing for certain. Nothing would remain the same after this battle.

The hours dragged by tortuously. Iona’s mind raced with thoughts of Ruaridh and the men who were fighting to keep them safe. But the castle was no fortress, and the MacNabs would not relent. She knew that, deep down.

The silence in the room stretched, unbearable and thick. She glanced at Niamh, who was sitting so still it was as though she had become part of the stone wall itself. The older woman’s calmness helped, but only slightly.

Finally, Niamh broke the silence with a low, almost imperceptible sigh. “It’ll be over soon. They willnae keep coming forever.”

But even as she spoke, Iona could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. Both women knew it wasn’t true. The battle outside wasn’t something that would end soon.

Then, just as Iona thought she might lose her mind from the sheer weight of the waiting, the faintest sound reached her ears—footsteps. The unmistakable echo of boots on stone.

Iona’s head snapped to the door, her heart racing. She held her breath, straining to listen.

The footsteps were light but deliberate—too deliberate. She could hear them growing closer, moving toward the stone shelter. Panic fluttered in her chest.

“Dae ye hear that?” Iona whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Niamh’s eyes flicked to her, and the color drained from her face. For a moment, neither of them moved. The soldiers outside the door were coming closer, their steps slow but intentional.

Niamh’s expression hardened. She stood up, moving toward the door with a quiet urgency. “Quiet now,” she murmured.

Iona’s chest tightened, her muscles stiff with dread. She rose too, instinctively moving to stand behind Niamh. Her heart was pounding in her ears now, drowning out everything else.

Niamh placed her ear against the door, her brow furrowing as she listened. Iona’s breathing was shallow, her body frozen with fear. The wait seemed endless. Then, Niamh straightened, her face pale but resolute.

Her eyes were filled with an intensity that Iona couldn’t mistake for anything other than fear. “We must stay hidden. If they find us here, it’s over.”

Iona nodded, but her mind raced, trying to figure out a way out. Her gaze went to the door again, her body trembling despite her efforts to stay calm.

“Save yerselves, me ladies!” shouted a voice from the other side. A man, perhaps one of their guards, his words filled with strained urgency. Iona could barely make out the rest of his sentence as the noise around him grew louder. His voice broke, desperation rising. “Get out while ye can!”

Then, a sickening sound tore through the air—the unmistakable noise of butchering. A sharp cry. A splattering of blood. The guttural sound of a body crumpling under brutal force.

Iona recoiled, her heart pounding in her chest, her throat closing in on her. She knew what had just happened. The guards outside their door were gone. Murdered in cold blood.

The sound echoed in her ears, louder than her own heartbeat. She could barely breathe as the violence unfolded just outside their safe haven.

And then— bang!

The door rattled violently. Iona’s heart stopped.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her hands flying to her mouth to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape. The sound of pounding fists on wood was unmistakable, and Iona's entire body went rigid. They had found them.

Her eyes darted around the small stone shelter, and she realized, in that split second of panic, how exposed they were. The walls were thick, but the wooden door would eventually give in to the men on the other side.

What dae we dae now?

Iona’s mind screamed for answers that weren’t coming.

The door rattled again, this time more forcefully. The handle groaned under the pressure, and Iona's blood turned cold.

“Get down,” Niamh whispered urgently, pushing Iona away from the door and into the shadows behind the small wooden beam that supported the walls. She pressed herself against the stone wall, trying to disappear into the darkness.

Iona did the same, though her heart hammered in her chest. She could hear the soldiers clearly now, muttering to each other. Their boots clicked softly as they moved closer.

“Stay still,” Niamh hissed in a low, urgent voice.

The sound of a fist pounding on the door made Iona’s skin crawl. It felt like the world had stopped spinning—everything had narrowed to that one sound, the sound of the soldiers outside.

Then came the voices again. They were speaking in low tones, but she could make out a few words.

“We ken ye’re in there. Nay place tae hide now, lass.”

Iona’s breath caught in her throat.

They ken we’re here.

Niamh’s eyes were wide, her face paling even further. She gripped Iona’s hand tightly. “We cannae stay here any longer,” she whispered harshly, her voice trembling with the weight of fear. “They’ll get in. We have tae move, now.”

The door rattled again, a heavy thud that sounded like it might break open at any second.

Then, a voice cut through the noise. “Break it down! She must be in there!” A harsh, guttural order, shouted from the other side. The sound of weapons being readied, the scrape of metal on stone, sent a new wave of dread crashing over Iona.

The door shuddered violently under the impact. Iona’s breath hitched in her throat. It was only a matter of time before they got through.

“Move!” Niamh hissed, her voice sharp with panic. She pushed Iona toward a small narrow passage at the far end of the stone shelter.

The door exploded inward with a force that sent a tremor through the walls of the stone shelter. The soldiers had finally breached their only refuge.

Iona’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with fear. Niamh grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the narrow passageway behind the stone wall.

“Go!” Niamh hissed again, pushing Iona ahead of her.

Iona’s heart raced as she sprinted through the dimly lit corridor. The walls were close on either side, the air stale with the scent of earth and stone. She could hear the thumping of boots behind them, growing louder with every step.

The passage twisted and turned in a narrow maze, but Iona couldn’t shake the feeling that it was futile. They were too close, and this cramped escape tunnel was only delaying the inevitable.

The clattering of weapons on stone echoed from behind, and Iona’s legs burned with exhaustion as they fled. Her thoughts spiraled in desperation.

Is there anywhere tae run? Anywhere tae hide? Where is Ruaridh?

Niamh’s breath came fast beside her, but she kept her pace steady. The older woman’s grip on her was tight, though Iona could feel her mother-in-law’s resolve slowly faltering.

“Iona—” Niamh started, but her voice faltered, cut off by the rush of footsteps that seemed to be echoing in every direction.

Iona glanced back over her shoulder, her heart thumping in her chest as she realized the guards were almost upon them.

Niamh’s hand clutched Iona’s arm more desperately. “We cannae stop. There is a door at the end. It leads tae a secret path far from the castle.”

“We cannae make it,” Iona cut her off, her voice hoarse with the weight of what she knew was coming. “Ye go, Niamh.”

“What?” Niamh’s voice was sharp with disbelief. She looked at Iona, her eyes wide with panic.

“Go!” Iona shouted, shaking off her mother-in-law’s hold. “If they catch us, they’ll kill ye fer certain. Ye have tae leave. I’ll hold them off.”

“Nay,” Niamh’s voice was fierce, but the fear in her eyes betrayed the resolve she was trying to maintain. “I willnae leave ye.”

Iona turned to face her, her heart breaking for the woman who had taken her in as a daughter. She saw Niamh’s pale face, the fear reflected in her eyes, and for a fleeting moment, the two women shared a silent understanding.

“I’m almost sure they willnae kill me,” Iona said softly, her voice breaking as the reality of the situation settled in.

“Murray will want tae dae it himself. But they willnae hesitate tae kill ye , Niamh. Ye need tae find Ruaridh. Tell him I’ve been taken.

He’ll protect ye, and he’ll rescue me before they get me tae MacNab lands. ”

Niamh opened her mouth to argue, but the look in Iona’s eyes stopped her. The desperation and raw emotion were too much.

“Ye have tae go,” Iona urged, her voice trembling now. She hugged Niamh once, tightly, then stepped back. “Please. Just go.”

Niamh stood frozen, her face torn with indecision. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she nodded once, her face hardening into a mask of resolve.

“I’ll find him. I swear it,” she whispered, before turning and running into the shadows of the passage.

Iona stood there for a moment, her heart beating erratically as she heard the sound of Niamh’s footsteps retreating. She wanted to scream after her, to tell her not to leave, but she couldn’t. It was too dangerous. And Niamh would never make it if she stayed.