CHAPTER THREE
A lexandra sat stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her thoughts swirling like the gray clouds above them.
Am I makin’ a mistake? Or simply doing me duty?
The carriage rocked gently as it rolled over the uneven path, the sound of wheels creaking and the horses’ hooves thudding softly on the dirt road.
She glanced at Erica, who sat across from her, her face pale as the pale light of dawn filtered through the small window. "Erica, ye look a bit ill," Alexandra said softly, concern creeping into her voice. "Are ye well?"
Erica blinked and offered a faint smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I’m fine, Miss. Just a bit nervous about a new home at MacLaren castle," she replied, though her voice lacked its usual vibrancy.
Alexandra wasn’t convinced but let it slide, the weight of their journey and the unknown ahead pressing down on her heart.
After a long silence, Erica’s voice broke the stillness.
"How did ye manage to persuade yer brother to let ye go?
To give yerself to Leo Rankin as a bride?
" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity, though it was clear she had some worry beneath the surface.
"I ken how fiercely he guards ye... It must’ve been a challenge. "
Alexandra drew a deep breath, her gaze drifting to the passing landscape.
"I told him it dinnae matter if he agreed or nae," she began, her words bitter on her tongue. "I told Caelan that I’d go to Leo’s castle whether he liked it or nae. I willnae be the cause of a clan war, Erica. That’s the truth of it.
" She could feel the sting of those words, knowing that her brother’s protective instinct would never allow such a thing willingly. Yet, she knew there was no choice.
Erica’s eyes widened slightly, her mouth parting in surprise.
"Ye told him that?" she whispered, almost in disbelief. Alexandra met her gaze, her own eyes hardening with a quiet resolve. "Aye, I did. I dinnae want to, but the matter’s bigger than us. If McLaren wants me, I’ll go.
The war's a far greater threat than me own life. "
"But it doesnae sit right with me, Mistress," Erica murmured at last, her voice heavy. "To let a man like Leo Rankin decide yer future... It’s nae fair to ye," Erica said.
Alexandra nodded, the truth of it gnawing at her. "I ken, but Caelan cannae keep me locked in Sinclair Castle forever," she said, her voice hard but tinged with an edge of sadness. "This isnae the life I thought I’d have. But sometimes, we must make hard choices for the greater good."
The carriage jolted to an abrupt halt, throwing Alexandra forward slightly. She gasped, her heart pounding as the sound of hooves and distant shouting reached her ears.
"What’s going on?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she turned to Erica, who looked equally alarmed. Before Erica could respond, the heavy voice of Paul, the guard, came through the small window, strained and urgent.
"Alexandra, daenae come out until I say so!" he barked, his tone sharp and commanding.
Alexandra’s stomach clenched at the force of his words, but she couldn’t quell the fear rising in her chest.
“What makes ye think ye’ll have a tongue to speak?" a low voice hissed, the words thick with menace.
She peered out of the window, straining to see what was happening, but the view was obstructed by the darkened forest that lined the path.
The sound of boots crashing through the underbrush grew closer, and Alexandra’s pulse quickened. She turned back to Erica, eyes wide with terror, but Erica was staring straight ahead, her lips pressed tight.
Alexandra’s mind raced, and in that moment, the harsh reality of her situation settled upon her.
This is an ambush!
She had never been in a situation like this before—never faced the violence of bandits or the threat of being taken. Her hand shook as she gripped the edge of the seat, her thoughts clouded with fear. She knew what men like this could do, and the thought of it made her stomach churn.
The quiet that followed felt like a suffocating blanket, and for a long moment, Alexandra couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she swallowed hard, trying to quell the rising panic.
The door to the carriage swung open with a force that rattled the wood.
Alexandra gasped, her heart leaping into her throat as her eyes locked with the man standing before her.
He was the most handsome, yet wicked-looking man she had ever seen—his black curly hair tumbling just past his chin, and his sharp jawline making him appear both alluring and dangerous.
His brown eyes glinted with a cruel satisfaction, and a sinister smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke.
"Got ye," the man said, his voice low and threatening.
Alexandra’s breath caught in her throat, but what horrified her more than the threat in his words was the strange flutter of excitement that surged through her.
It was as if her body betrayed her mind, responding to him in a way that sent shivers of confusion racing through her.
She hated herself for it, for her body’s unwelcome reaction to the very man who had just upended her life.
Before she could gather her thoughts, he seized her with a brutal grip, yanking her from the safety of the carriage.
Alexandra gasped, her legs scrambling beneath her as she fought against his strength.
He was much larger than her, and her attempts to break free felt feeble, her movements sluggish against his firm grasp.
"Let go of me!" she cried, her voice high with panic, but the man barely acknowledged her struggle. He dragged her out into the open air, her feet stumbling over the uneven ground as he pulled her further from the carriage. The sounds of muffled voices and distant scuffling filled her ears, but she could hardly focus on anything but the harshness of the man’s grip.
As she was hauled further into the chaos, Alexandra’s gaze flicked toward Paul, the guard, and the driver, Otis.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw them, still alive, though both men were subdued by different attackers.
Their eyes locked for a brief, fleeting moment, and she saw nothing but helplessness reflected in their faces.
Despite the relief that they weren’t dead, a cold dread settled deeper into her chest as the reality of her situation set in.
"I said unhand me, ye bleedin' bandit!" Alexandra shouted, her voice strained with panic.
But the man holding her paid him no heed, his hand like iron around her wrist, yanking her closer to his broad chest. The warmth of his body against hers sent an involuntary shiver down her spine, even as her mind screamed in terror.
"Ye’re mine now, lass," he growled, his voice thick with a dangerous promise.
Alexandra could feel the firm pressure of his chest against her back, every muscle in his body like a stone wall. His words echoed in her ears, dark and predatory, and she could feel the weight of them settle heavily in her chest.
“And I never let go of me prey.”
Her mind raced.
I must escape this moment. But how?
But the man’s strength was overwhelming, and her attempts to twist free only made him tighten his grip.
Panic surged through her veins as the reality of her situation sank in—she was caught, helpless against a man who had no mercy.
She could barely breathe, the heat of his body suffocating her in the open air.
“Ye daenae need to struggle, lass. I’m nae going to hurt ye… yet,” he murmured, his voice dripping with a cruel amusement.
Fear tightened around Alexandra’s chest, but she couldn’t help the trembling that started in her hands.
Her body trembled not just from the cold, but from the growing realization that escape was no longer an option.
She had no choice but to trust that some sort of miracle would come, but deep inside, she feared it would never come in time.