CHAPTER SEVEN
A lexandra lay in the bed, tossing and turning, the heavy weight of the unfamiliar room and her helplessness keeping her awake.
The storm outside raged on, its howling winds and relentless rain barely muffled by the thick walls of the castle.
She couldn’t shake the tension in her chest, the fear gnawing at her even as she tried to sleep.
Why is this happenin’ to me? I must find a way out of this.
Eventually, frustration got the better of her, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed, still in the clothes she had worn on her journey—the only ones she had left.
She stood, quietly approaching the door, half-expecting it to be locked, but to her surprise, the handle turned easily beneath her fingers. The door creaked open, and Alexandra stepped into the dark hallway, the storm’s fury still hammering against the castle’s stone walls.
Her bare feet padded softly along the cold floor as she wandered, unsure of where she was going but desperate to do something other than lie awake in that lonely room. Her mind raced, but she tried to focus on the hallway ahead, moving deeper into the castle.
"Erica?" she whispered hoping that her maid was being held in a room close by but there was no response.
As she walked, the storm’s sound seemed to surround her, deafening and relentless. The flickering candlelight from distant sconces only made the shadows more intimidating, adding to her unease as she wandered the halls. She had no idea where she was, but curiosity pushed her forward.
After a few twists and turns, she found herself standing in front of a large, ornate door with light casting from beneath it. Alexandra pushed open the door. The smell of old paper and wood greeted her, and the sight of countless shelves filled with books was a welcome distraction.
A library?
She stepped into the room, the storm still howling outside, though the thick stone walls offered some reprieve from the noise. But to her surprise, she wasn’t alone.
Nicholas sat in a large chair near the fire, a book open in his hands. The dim light from the hearth flickered, casting shadows across his bare chest, and the sight took Alexandra aback.
Her breath caught in her throat for a moment as she froze in the doorway, the unexpectedness of the situation sinking in. She had expected to be alone, but instead, here was Nicholas, shirtless and utterly at ease.
Nicholas glanced up from his book, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto her with a mix of annoyance and curiosity. “What are ye doin’ here?” His voice was low and commanding, but there was an edge to it that made Alexandra’s heart skip a beat.
She opened her mouth to respond but found herself struggling for words, unsure how to explain her presence in his private space.
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “I—I couldnae sleep,” she stammered, still trying to make sense of the situation. “I thought I might… find somethin’ to read.” Her voice was shaky, but she refused to let him see her fear.
Nicholas studied her for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as if he could see straight through her. "Ye mean lookin’ for a way to escape?"
"I willnae lie. It's always on me mind as it would be for any prisoner," she said.
"Escape will nae be easy, lass. I have guards posted at every exit of these walls. Ye would never slip pass. The storm outside would see ye dead in hours," he said.
"Better than being here with ye," she scowled.
He didn’t respond right away, instead returning his gaze to the book in his hands, though he didn’t seem particularly interested in the pages.
Finally, he spoke again, his tone softening just enough to send a chill down her spine.
“Aye, well, ye’re nae where ye should be, regardless.
I'll have to throw ye over me shoulder and lock ye in yer room.”
Alexandra opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, stopping her.
His smirk returned, wicked and knowing. “Ye best be careful, lass,” he said, his voice low, “ye daenae ken how dangerous it can be for a lass wanderin’ around alone at night.
Me men get drunk and have nay restraint in the wee hours.
Nae everyone would be so kind to a stray like ye. ”
Her heart pounded in her chest, the anger and fear mixing inside her, but she wasn’t about to back down. “I’m nae a stray,” she shot back, her voice firm despite the flutter of unease in her stomach. “I’m a prisoner in yer castle, whether I like it or nae.”
Nicholas’s eyes flashed with something darker, something dangerous, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stood slowly, walking toward her with purpose, each step echoing in the otherwise silent room.
Alexandra’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move, her back straight as she faced him.
“Ye think yer position’s so strong, lass?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper now, but the weight of it pressed down on her. “Remember where ye are, and who ye belong to now.”
"I daenae belong to ye," she said.
"Aye, ye do. I captured ye. Ye are mine, lass," he growled in a low whisper.
Alexandra stood there, her gaze involuntarily drawn to Nicholas’s muscular chest as he moved.
His skin was tanned, the faint glow from the fire accentuating the strength in his shoulders and arms. She could feel her pulse quicken despite herself, and she quickly scolded herself, forcing her eyes to flick back to his face.
The last thing I should feel right now is any kind of attraction to this beast.
She took a deep breath, her voice steady as she replied, “Ye never told me I couldnae roam about, and me door wasnae locked. If ye wanted me to stay in me room, ye should have seen to it better.” Her words were sharp, but she couldn’t help the slight tremor in her voice.
She didn’t understand why, but in his presence, it felt as if something invisible was pulling her toward him, and she hated herself for it.
Nicholas gave her a wry grin, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Aye, ye’re free to roam inside the walls as ye wish,” he said, his tone slow and measured, “But good lasses should be sleepin’ by now.”
The words hung in the air between them, as if to remind her of her place. Alexandra’s cheeks flushed at the insinuation, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest, trying to shield herself from the discomfort his words had caused.
“Me dress is so uncomfortable, I couldnae sleep a wink,” she muttered, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. “It’s too tight, and the fabric itches. And I’m worried for me maid. Erica doesnae deserve to be caught up in this, and I daenae ken what ye’re plannin’ to do with her.”
Nicholas’s gaze hardened at the mention of Erica, and his expression darkened, though his voice remained calm. “Erica is safe for now,” he said, his tone low but firm. “She’ll be allowed to work around the castle. Ye shouldnae be worryin’ about her so much.”
His eyes locked with hers, and there was something dangerous in them, a quiet warning that made her stomach twist. “But if ye act out or try to escape, lass,” he continued, “I willnae hesitate to punish her.”
Alexandra’s breath caught at the threat, her pulse racing. She took a step back, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn’t let him hurt Erica; she couldn’t let him use her friend against her.
“Ye wouldnae dare,” she said, her voice a little more defiant than she intended, but the fear she felt was raw and real.
Nicholas raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused by her bravado.
“Ye’re testin’ me patience, lass,” he warned, his voice softer now, almost like a purr, but no less menacing.
“I can be a generous man if ye mind yer place. But if ye push me…” He trailed off, and the unspoken threat hung in the air like a heavy fog.
Alexandra’s stomach churned, and she fought to steady herself, refusing to let her fear show.
“I daenae want to cause trouble,” she replied quickly, her voice small despite her best efforts to sound strong.
She could feel the walls of the room closing in on her as he took another step closer, and her instincts screamed at her to run.
But she stood her ground, her chin lifted defiantly.
“I just want to ken that Erica’s all right, then I'll do as ye say. "
"Ye’d do well to remember who holds the power here.” His words sent a shiver down her spine, but Alexandra held his gaze, refusing to show how deeply his threats had affected her.
She saw his eyes flick over her. “Why did ye nae change for bed instead of being in that uncomfortable dress that keeps ye up?” he asked, his tone low, but there was something curious about the question.
Alexandra flushed, and without thinking, she shot back, “I have nay luggage, do I?”
Nicholas remained silent for a long moment, his piercing gaze never leaving her face, as if weighing her response.
“Aye, I see,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze softening ever so slightly. “Come with me,” he added, his voice rough but commanding, and without waiting for a reply, he moved toward the door.
Alexandra hesitated for a heartbeat before following him, the tension in her chest tightening.
She walked silently behind him as he led her down a narrow hallway, the storm’s howling winds muffling their footsteps.
When he stopped in front of a door, he pushed it open, revealing a large, dimly lit room.
Inside, a wardrobe stood against one wall, its rich wood polished to a deep sheen.
Nicholas stepped aside, motioning for her to enter. “Pick any of the dresses ye like,” he said, his voice suddenly softer. The room smelled faintly of lavender and fresh linens, a stark contrast to the cold, damp air outside.
Alexandra’s eyes wandered over the array of beautiful dresses and nightgowns hanging from the wardrobe, each more elegant than the last, and her fingers itched to touch the fine fabrics.
She stepped closer and pulled a pale blue nightdress from the rack, the soft fabric slipping through her fingers like water.
Then, she picked a soft green dress, simple but still fine enough to wear in the morning.
Holding both garments, she turned toward him, her expression a mixture of defiance and curiosity.
“Who owns these fine dresses?” she asked, her voice steady despite the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside her.
“That’s none of yer concern,” he muttered, his voice low but firm.
Alexandra stood still, the dresses hanging from her hands as silence filled the room.
Her mind spun, trying to make sense of everything—her abduction, his claim about his son, and the strange, dangerous man standing before her.
Despite her anger and confusion, she couldn’t bring herself to hate him, not if he truly believed her brother had taken his child; she would probably respond in the same way if it were her child.
Her chest ached, and she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of sympathy for him, for the pain that drove his actions, even though they were misguided. She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction, but a part of her softened in spite of herself.
Finally, she lifted her gaze and spoke, her voice steady but firm.
"I daenae ken about McLaren, but I ken me brother would never take someone else’s child.
He's a good man," she said, the words leaving her with more conviction than she felt.
"In case ye still think it is me brother that has wronged ye. "
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed at her words, his expression unreadable for a moment. He shifted slightly, standing straighter as if preparing for a confrontation. "Daenae be so sure birdie. Ye daenae ken all the details of what goes on behind closed doors."