Page 11 of The Ruthless Highlander's Hellion
"Nae, but McLaren does. He has somethin’ I want and I have somethin’ he wants. Ye may nae be his sister, but ye are his betrothed. Ye are still leverage whether ye like it or nae," he said.
Alexandra stepped back, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Ye’re nothin’ but a coward,” she hissed, her words laced with venom. “Stealin’ a woman away, then treatin’ her like this. A coward hidin’ behind his title.”
“Ye’re nae in a position to be callin’ me names,” Nicholas replied, his voice cold and measured. He reached out, gripping her arm with surprising gentleness, a stark contrast to the harshness of his words. “But if ye keep up with this nonsense, ye’ll find out just how far I’m willin’ to go to make ye understand.”
He watched Alexandra flinch at his touch but stood tall, her chest rising and falling with each heated breath.
“I’ll never understand,” she spat, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her. “I’ll never accept what ye’ve done.”
Nicholas studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. There was something in her that intrigued him more than he cared to admit—something that made him want to push further, test her resolve. He tightened his grip on her arm, though his touch was not rough. “Ye think ye can defy me,” he said quietly. “But ye’re just a woman, lass. And I’ve dealt with much worse than ye."
"Ye’re a beast, Nicholas Robertson! Let me go," she spat.
"Well, birdie,” he drawled, his voice thick with mockery, “ye’re nae goin’ anywhere. Ye should’ve been more careful about the attention ye draw.” His smirk widened, cruel and knowing. “I hope ye enjoy stayin’ with a beast.”
Without waiting for her response, he turned away, his mind already calculating his next move. He called out for a maid and a guard, his tone commanding and final.
“Take her to the guest chambers,” he ordered, his voice carrying an unmistakable edge of authority. He didn’t care what she thought of it; she was a prisoner for now, and he would deal with her in his own time.
“Should I nae be in the dungeon, then?” she asked, her voice still laced with defiance.
The question surprised Nicholas, though he didn’t let it show. “I’ll think about it if ye continue to run yer mouth,” he warned, his voice low and menacing.
As Alexandra was escorted from the room, Nicholas stood still for a moment, watching her every move with a gaze that could pierce through stone. The sound of her footsteps echoed through the stone hallway, a reminder of the tangled web he’d woven. He couldn’t deny that a part of him enjoyed seeing her frustration, even if it was only the beginning of what would undoubtedly be a long and difficult game.
Turning on his heel, he made his way down the corridor to find Marcus, the ever-loyal confidant who had been with him through thick and thin. When Nicholas found him, Marcus looked up, his face a mix of curiosity and wariness.
“What of the matter now, Nicholas?” Marcus asked, his brow furrowing at the look in Nicholas’s eyes.
“Ye are right, we got the wrong woman,” Nicholas said, the words coming out slowly, almost as if he were savoring the irony.
"Aye, ’tis what the maid and the guard said,” Marcus responded.
Nicholas let out a deep breath, his hand running through his dark hair in frustration. “Aye, we abducted McLaren’s betrothed, nae his sister,” he explained, his voice sharp with frustration. “We’ve got the wrong lass, Marcus. But now, I’ve got a bit more leverage than I thought.” He glanced at Marcus, seeing the confusion still in his eyes. “McLaren has me son and now, I’ve got somethin’ McLaren really wants—his bride.”
Marcus’s expression shifted from shock to understanding, his gaze sharpening with interest. “So, ye’re goin’ to use her as leverage?” he asked, his voice tinged with awe.
“Aye,” Nicholas replied, his eyes dark and calculating.
Marcus nodded slowly, a grin slowly forming on his face. “Aye, that could work,” he muttered, clearly impressed by Nicholas’s plan. “McLaren willnae like it, but he’ll nae have a choice. What’s the next move, then?”
Nicholas’s gaze turned cold, his mind already working out the next step in the tangled dance of power and manipulation. “I’ll let him stew for a bit,” he said, his voice calm but filled with a dangerous edge. “Then, I’ll give him a choice—release me son or lose his bride.” He paused, letting the words settle in the air. “Either way, we’re in control now. I can only hope he truly wanted this woman as a bride and nae simply a means to an end.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alexandra 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.
