CHAPTER FOUR
G et a hold of yerself; ye’re doin’ this for yer boy.
The attempt at self-control didn’t help the burning desire that flickered in his chest. His eyes grazed over her body, every curve wetting his appetite. His hand curled into a fist at his side in an attempt to stop it from caressing her.
Nicholas tried to ignore the instant surge of craving that coursed through him when his eyes locked on Alexandra. The fear and defiance in her gaze stirred something dark and primal within him, and he couldn’t shake the image of her quivering lips.
"Let me go, ye bastard!" Alexandra screamed, interrupting his turbulent thoughts, her curses cutting through the air like a whip.
The sight of her, her body fighting against the ropes, only made him more determined to take her, to break her, as he had promised himself.
Yet, a twisted part of him couldn’t help but admire the fire in her—such beauty, such spirit, and all of it wrapped up in a package that could easily be destroyed.
“Marcus,” Nicholas muttered gruffly, shaking off his thoughts. “Grab the maid, and daenae forget the guard.”
His voice was colder now, the command clear as he took a step closer to Alexandra, bending down to scoop her up over his shoulder.
She screamed and kicked, but Nicholas had already anticipated her resistance and held her securely.
Her body was warm and full of life, her movements more a challenge than a hindrance.
"Stop! Where are ye taking me?" Alexandra’s shouts were a mix of defiance and desperation, each word like a dagger thrown at his composure.
She clawed at his back, her legs kicking as she fought to break free, but Nicholas ignored it, his grip tight.
“Ye’ll regret this, ye savage!” she yelled, her voice rising with every futile attempt to escape.
He gritted his teeth, his patience thinning, but the sight of her struggling only solidified his resolve—she would be his to break.
Marcus was already securing the other two captives with the help of the mercenaries, the maid, and the guard.
Nicholas walked over to his horse, Apollo, a loyal companion since he was a young lad.
He tossed Alexandra unceremoniously onto the saddle, her body limp for only a moment before her strength returned, and she tried to twist away from him.
But Nicholas gripped her tighter, pulling her back against him as he settled her onto the horse, ignoring the way her body trembled beneath his hands.
“Calm yerself, lass,” Nicholas growled, keeping her pressed against him. “Ye’re nothin' more than a piece in me game now, and ye’ll find yer place whether ye like it or nae.”
Her struggles were as futile as they were infuriating.
Marcus, meanwhile, had no trouble managing Erica, who was as still and frightened as could be. The guard, however, was even less of a challenge—tied up and slumped, from the beating he had endured. He was placed on another horse, one taken from the carriage.
Marcus led the animal by its reins and made sure the guard stayed bound and immobile, just as Nicholas had ordered and tied it to the back of his own horse.
Nicholas, without hesitation, yanked Alexandra upright, forcing her into a sitting position on Apollo.
She squirmed in his grasp, her back pressed flush against his chest, and he could feel the heat of her body despite the cold bite of the evening air.
Her struggles were fierce, but they only seemed to fuel the fire inside him.
He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, "Stop strugglin', birdie—ye’re just excitin’ me more."
Alexandra froze at the words, her body still against him. He could feel her pulse quicken, and it amused him, though he showed no outward sign of it. His grip on her tightened, just enough to ensure she couldn’t escape.
Turning his attention to the mercenaries, Nicholas tossed them a heavy purse of gold coins and watched as they eagerly accepted the payment.
He spoke coldly, his voice a low growl, "Yer silenced oath is yer word. If ye speak a whisper of this, I’ll see ye all buried where nay one can find ye."
Each mercenary nodded solemnly, their faces unreadable, and one by one, they placed their hands on their hearts and swore an oath of silence.
As they finished, Nicholas gave a curt nod and jerked his head toward the path.
"Take the driver with ye. Nay harm should come to him but keep him from these parts for the next month, then release him. Now go, ye’ve done yer part. ”
The mercenaries quickly mounted their own horses and rode off, disappearing into the darkening landscape with an unconscious Otis over a saddle, their figures swallowed by the shadows.
Nicholas turned his focus back to the road ahead, the hooves of their horses clattering against the ground as they began their journey.
Alexandra wasted no time speaking her mind, her voice sharp with disdain. "Ye’re an oaf," she spat, struggling once more against the bonds that held her, "and ye’re a fool if ye think ye’ll get away with this."
She shifted, trying to wriggle free, but Nicholas merely tightened his hold on her. “Ye’ve nay right to do this to me. Let me go, ye bastard.”
“Quiet yerself, lass,” Nicholas muttered under his breath, irritated by her constant insults. “Keep that mouth of yers shut, or I’ll tie a handkerchief round it and make sure ye cannae speak at all.” He knew it was a threat she wouldn’t take lightly, but her defiance only drove him further.
Alexandra raised her chin defiantly and hissed, "Try it, and I’ll make ye regret it." Her words, filled with venom, only made him smirk.
Marcus, who had been riding beside them, couldn’t help but chuckle at the exchange. He laughed, the sound deep and rich, but Nicholas wasn’t amused. His gaze shot over to Marcus, a sharp look of anger crossing his face. "What’s so bloody funny?" Nicholas snapped, his jaw clenched tight.
Marcus held up his hands, still chuckling but now in full control of himself. "Nothin'. Just thinkin' that the lass has spirit—like yerself."
His voice held a teasing tone, but he quickly wiped the smirk off his face as Nicholas narrowed his eyes. Nicholas didn’t respond, but his grip on Alexandra tightened ever so slightly. She gasped, feeling the pressure, but still didn’t give in to the intimidation.
"Ye’ll learn quickly enough, lass," Nicholas muttered to her, his voice low and dangerous. "There’s nay way out of this. Ye’ll behave, or I’ll make ye wish ye did.
" His words hung in the air, thick with threat, but Alexandra didn’t flinch.
Instead, she turned her head slightly, glaring at him with all the fury she could muster.
Their journey continued, the sound of hooves echoing through the quiet countryside. Nicholas made sure to stay off the main roads, using back paths that cut through tall forests so they would not be seen.
As they rode closer to the imposing silhouette of O'Donnell Castle, Nicholas felt a pang of unease, though he hid it well. The castle loomed ahead, its stone walls towering against the backdrop of a stormy sky, the wind howling through the hills.
Alexandra, still bound and perched on Apollo in front of him, was silent, her body tense under his grip. He could sense her unease, her breath quickening as the fortress drew nearer, but he said nothing, letting the silence stretch between them.
When they finally reached the gates, the guards recognized Nicholas at once and stepped aside, allowing them entry.
The horses trotted up the long path to the castle.
Nicholas guided Apollo through the gates, his thoughts racing, unsure of how Alexandra would react to the truth he’d kept hidden for so long.
As he dismounted, Alexandra’s eyes widened, taking in the grandeur of the castle. He watched as her gaze darted around, absorbing the high walls and the sweeping towers that seemed to touch the very heavens.
"Why’ve ye brought me here?" she asked, her voice trembling with shock. "This place flies the flags of the O'Donnell clan."
Nicholas’s heart stilled for a moment, but he didn’t let his gaze waver. His hand, still firm on Alexandra’s arm, tightened involuntarily as she looked up at him, suspicion and fear mixed in her eyes. He stood silently for a moment, watching her as she tried to process what she was seeing.
"Aye," he said finally, his voice low but steady.
She blinked, confusion painting her face. "But… but is this O'Donnell Castle, then?" she whispered, the words leaving her lips in disbelief. "Why have ye brought me here of all places, bandit?"
“'Cause it's me home. And lass, I am nae a bandit," he said.
"Then who are ye?" She took another step back, as if trying to put more distance between them, and her eyes searched his face.
He stood still, knowing he could no longer hide the truth from her.
"I am Laird O'Donnell," he said, the words heavy as they left his mouth.
"Nicholas Robertson, the one ye’ve cursed since ye met me.
" He took a deep breath, watching her face twist with shock and confusion, feeling the weight of her gaze on him.
Alexandra’s expression shifted from disbelief to something colder, more calculating.
Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth set into a tight line.
"Ye’re the Laird?" she asked again, as if needing to hear it a second time to make sense of it all.
"And ye thought to bring me here, to yer castle, as if this is some sort of game? "
His heart hammered against his chest, the realization that he could lose her tightening like a vise.
"It’s nae a game, lass," he said, his voice rough with a mix of frustration and something darker, more primal.
"This is me life—ye’re part of it now, whether ye like it or not.
" He could see her eyes flicker with anger, but there was something else there too—a glimmer of something he couldn’t quite place.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air between them thick with tension.
He watched as Alexandra seemed to be processing his words, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to make sense of this revelation.
He waited for her to admit that her brother had taken his son, but she said nothing.
He glanced up at the castle once more, his fortress of power, his home, and felt the weight of its walls pressing down on him. This was no longer just about him—it was about what came next. He knew he had placed himself at her mercy, just as much as she was at his.