Page 5 of Trapped by the Wicked Highlander (Lairds of the Loch Alliance #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

T he door creaked open, and Hunter stepped into the room, the scent of the morning dew still clinging to his cloak. He had been out early checking the sky and the horse. As he closed the door behind him, his eyes fell on Cassandra, sitting up in the bed, her brow furrowed in a mix of frustration and curiosity.

The sight of her, looking so wound up, made a small smile tug at his lips, though he quickly masked it with a more serious expression.

Cassandra’s gaze was sharp, her eyes narrowing as she met his.

“Where’ve ye gone, Laird McDougal? I demand to ken where ye are before ye disappear,” her voice holding an edge of annoyance that he couldn't help but find intriguing. Her fiery spirit was one thing that set her apart from other women, but at times, it seemed to get her into trouble. He had learned early on that Cassandra didn’t mince words, even when they were cutting a bit too close for comfort.

Hunter leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture relaxed but his gaze steady.

“Be careful, lass,” he warned, his voice low and serious. “Daenae demand things from me unless ye want to face the consequences.”

He could see the way her face flushed with indignation, and though he knew she’d bristle at the words, he couldn’t help himself—she needed to learn that some things were best left unsaid.

He watched Cassandra’s cheeks redden, her eyes flashing with defiance as she pushed herself to her feet.

“Ye think ye can just disappear and leave me to wonder where ye’ve gone?” she retorted, her voice filled with a mix of anger and something else—was it concern?

Hunter didn’t know, but he found the blend of emotions in her voice stirring, even though he wasn’t one for complications. He had no intention of explaining himself to her, not when she had such a way of making everything seem like an accusation.

“I dinnae disappear, lass,” he replied, his tone softening just enough to convey he wasn’t truly angry. “I had things to see to, and ye cannae expect me to be at yer beck and call all the time.”

He could see that she was about to snap back at him, but he held up a hand, cutting her off. “I promised ye me protection, nae me constant company,” he added, his eyes never leaving hers, challenging her to accept it.

Her expression shifted slightly, the defiance in her gaze wavering, but the stubbornness was still there.

“I dinnae ask ye to stay by me side all the time,” she said, her voice lowering. “But I’ll be damned if I stand around here waitin’ for yer return, like some fool.” Her words, though sharp, carried an undercurrent of vulnerability that didn’t go unnoticed by Hunter, and it made him feel a way he hadn’t expected.

Hunter straightened, pushing off the doorframe, and took a few steps toward her. His movements were deliberate, slow, but with a sense of purpose. He wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, especially when it came to a lass who could so easily stir his emotions.

“Ye may nae be a fool, but ye are reckless with yer words, lass,” he said, his voice a low rumble, filled with a dangerous calm. "I am yer superior, remember that. Though ye may nae be of me clan."

Cassandra opened her mouth to argue, but Hunter raised a finger to silence her. “I warned ye,” he continued, his gaze never leaving hers. “The next time ye demand somethin’ from me, think long and hard about the consequences ye’re willin’ to face.” He stepped closer, until there was barely a breath between them, his presence engulfing her like the warmth of the fire in the hearth.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension between them thickening with every passing second. Cassandra stood her ground, her back straight and her chin lifted, as though daring him to push her further. Hunter’s eyes softened for just a moment, his usual teasing demeanor replaced with something more serious, more protective.

He wanted to make it clear that he wouldn’t tolerate her pushing him around, but part of him admired the fire in her—she wasn’t like the other women who cowered at his presence.

“I just… I daenae like nae knowin’ where ye’ve gone, when I'm alone in a place I daenae ken.” Her shoulders slumped slightly, the walls she had built around herself beginning to show cracks. Hunter found himself oddly moved by the vulnerability she showed, even if she was still too proud to admit it fully.

Hunter took another step closer, his voice now gentler.

“Ye daenae have to like it, lass,” he said, his tone softening. “But ye’ll need to trust me when I say I’m doin’ what’s best for ye—and for everyone.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made his heart race. Despite everything, despite the walls she’d built around herself, he could see the flicker of trust beginning to burn, and it made him want to protect her more than ever.

Hunter watched as Cassandra’s cheeks flushed, her gaze dropping to the floor, clearly embarrassed by her words. It wasn’t often he saw her flustered.

She straightened herself up, clearing her throat before she quickly changed the subject. “I’m hungry, perhaps a quick bite before we return to the road,” she said, her voice steady again, but Hunter could hear the slight tremor beneath it.

He gave a small nod, sensing her desire to move past the awkwardness. “Aye, we should go downstairs, then,” he replied, his tone soft but steady. He grabbed his cloak from the back of a chair, moving toward the door while Cassandra quickly straightened the bed and gathered her things.

It was a small gesture, but it told him she was ready to move forward, putting aside the tension that had briefly built between them.

Once they were ready, they made their way downstairs to the inn’s tavern, the low murmur of voices and the smell of cooking food greeting them as they descended. The hearth fire was crackling, casting a warm glow over the room, while the smell of fresh bread, sizzling bacon, and eggs filled the air. Hunter couldn’t help but notice how her shoulders relaxed as they approached the long wooden table. The smell of the food seemed to ease her discomfort, and he was glad to see her in better spirits.

The innkeeper greeted them with a warm smile, directing them to a corner of the table where a hearty breakfast was already laid out. A steaming pot of porridge sat at the center, along with a basket of freshly baked bread and a small bowl of butter.

Crispy bacon, sausages, and fried eggs made the spread even more inviting, and Hunter could feel his stomach growling in response. He pulled out a chair for Cassandra, then took a seat across from her, his gaze briefly meeting hers before he reached for the bread.

“Aye, this looks like a proper breakfast,” Hunter commented, grabbing a slice of bread and slathering it with butter before taking a bite.

The warmth of the bread and the rich taste of the butter made him feel more at ease, and he could see Cassandra do the same, her movements slower, more deliberate now. She picked up a piece of bacon, her hands slightly trembling as she began to eat, and Hunter couldn’t help but notice the subtle way she tried to avoid meeting his eyes. Still, he could tell that the food was doing its job, and the tension that had lingered between them began to fade.

They ate in relative silence, the occasional clink of silverware the only sound between them. Hunter had just finished the last bite of his bacon when the peace of the inn was shattered. The sudden sound of shouting and the scraping of chairs against the wooden floor cut through the air like a knife.

His eyes flicked to a group of men had gotten to their feet, and before he could react, a brawl erupted. Tables were overturned, mugs of ale splashed across the floor, and one of the men, losing his footing, crashed right into Cassandra, knocking her out of her seat with a loud thud.

The man, groaning as he tried to push himself off her, looked down and blinked for a moment, dazed. His eyes quickly fixed on Cassandra, his gaze roving over her with a leer that made Hunter’s blood run cold.

“Ah, ye look fine enough, lass,” the man slurred, his tone thick with drunkenness as he reached out to touch her arm. Cassandra flinched, her face twisting in discomfort as she pulled away, but the man wasn’t deterred.

“Come on, now,” the man coaxed, his breath smelling of whiskey as he leaned closer, a smirk curling on his lips. “Daenae be shy, lass. Give me a kiss.” His words were accompanied by a crude chuckle, and Cassandra recoiled even further, clearly unsettled by his unwanted attention.

Hunter’s muscles tensed, his anger rising. With a growl that echoed across the inn, he rose from his seat and moved toward them, his boots heavy on the floor.

“Enough,” he snarled, his voice carrying an edge that silenced the room. “If ye continue touchin’ her, ye will lose yer arm.” The men froze, the loud chatter of the tavern fading into a tense stillness as all eyes turned to Hunter.

The man who had been bothering Cassandra quickly backed off, his face going pale as he muttered a hasty apology.

"Sorry, this lass belongs to ye?" the man said.

"Aye, she does," Hunter growled. “And if ye touch her, ye will lose the hand ye use.”

The innkeeper, a burly man with a nervous look, quickly moved to calm the remaining rowdy patrons. But Hunter’s attention was solely on Cassandra now.

He moved beside her, his gaze softening as he looked into her eyes, searching for any signs of distress.

“Are ye alright, lass?” he asked, his voice gentler than it had been moments before.

Cassandra nodded quickly, but her hands were trembling, and her eyes didn’t quite meet his.

“Aye… I’m fine,” she said, but her voice was shaky, and Hunter could see the lingering fear in her expression.

It took everything in him not to reach out and hold her close, but he knew now wasn’t the time. Instead, he placed a firm hand on her shoulder, his voice steady.

“We’re leavin’ now.”

Without waiting for any more words, Hunter grabbed her arm gently but firmly, leading her toward the door. The quiet of the inn seemed to press in around them as they left, the tension still thick in the air.

As they stepped outside into the brisk morning air, the sun shining down on the dusty streets, Hunter could feel the weight of what had just happened. He wanted to make sure she was all right, to reassure her, but he could see she was still shaken.

It is simply me duty to care for her, she is vital.

The horse was tethered just outside the inn, and Hunter quickly helped Cassandra mount, his hands steady but still strong as he guided her up. Once she was seated, he swung up behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist with a possessiveness that he couldn’t quite explain.

“We’ll be ridin’ hard from here on out,” he said, his voice calm, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. He should have cut the hands off that peasant, but there was no time for such things.

As they rode away from the inn, the landscape stretched out before them—open fields and hills that seemed to go on forever. Hunter could feel the tension between them, the unspoken words hanging in the air, but he didn’t push her by asking.

He knew she was shaken, despite her stubborn nature to say she could take care of herself. She was soft like any other lass, and he knew it.

Instead, he focused on the road ahead, the steady rhythm of the horse’s hooves keeping time as they made their way toward Castle McDougal. The ride was long, and though the air was cool, it was a welcome change from the chaos of the inn.

"We will reach Castle McDougal with as much haste as me steed can muster," he said.

"Aye, that is best, for now," she replied.

Cassandra remained silent, but Hunter could feel her body stiffening against his, as if she were still trying to process everything that had just happened. He wasn’t sure how to ease her mind, but he would find a way, eventually.

For now, they were on the road, together, and that was enough. He made a silent vow to keep her safe.

Nay matter the cost, she is me salvation… and Elena's.