Page 6 of The Ruthless Highlander's Hellion
“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.
CHAPTER FOUR
Get 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 butadmire 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.”
