Page 46 of Claimed by the Clan Chief

She stared at him. Hardly able to believe what she was seeing. Was he real or was it her terrified mind playing a wicked trick?

“I will say it again.” He leaped from his horse and marched up to Rabbie. “What is going on here?”

It is him. He’s real.

Her heart leaped and a swelling sensation filled her chest—hope.

“We’ve found a witch.” Rabbie tipped his chin and pointed at Isla. “Who is about to burn for her devilish incantations.”

“Witch, witch, witch,” the crowd chanted.

McTavish drew his sword and held it forward. He then swung it around the crowd. “The next man or woman to call my wife a witch dies.” He stepped quickly up to a man who was clapping each time he shouted the word and jabbed the sword onto his chest.

The chanting stopped abruptly.

The man’s eyes widened and he shut his mouth and dropped his hands to his sides.

“That’s better,” McTavish said, swinging his sword left and right. “Anyone else want to ken if I speak the truth about my intentions? Because believe you me I have used this sword to kill in the past and I have no fears of doing so again.”

Collectively the gathered villagers appeared to take a step back. A few muttered to each other as though recognizing McTavish and realizing he spoke the truth.

He was not a Highlander to quarrel with.

Isla battled with the rope wrapped around her wrists. She needed to get off this pile of dry wood that would flare up with one spark.

“Release her,” McTavish directed at Rabbie. “Now.”

“That is not possible.” Rabbie folded his arms. “She must burn, you have naught say in this.”

“Naught say in the fate of my wife?” There was disbelief in McTavish’s voice. “Are you a mad man?”

“Nay, I am a man who wants to protect the innocent from the devil.”

“And you think she, this beautiful woman who only ever wants to help people is the devil?”

“Aye, I ken so.”

“How do you ken?”

“Because she has cursed all here.”

“With her terrified last words? You’ve treated her like an animal, I can see that. It is any wonder she can barely think straight to speak.”

Rabbie hesitated, then, “Not just that.”

“So pray tell me what else.”

“Because she cast a curse on me, an ill wish. She made it, with her own hands and filled it with the devil himself.”

“I do not believe ye.” McTavish caught Isla’s gaze.

She tried to flick her messy hair from her face.

“It’s true,” one of the villagers shouted. “I seen the ill wish with my own eyes. She made it, and she cursed Rabbie Finlay with it.”

“Curses are not real and those who believe in them are as likely to believe in changelings.” McTavish huffed.

There was a gasp from a woman to the right.

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