Page 96 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander
Hunter’s chest burned with fury, his voice sharp as steel. “Ye dinnae have a claim on her, James. Ye never did. Release her now, and I might spare yer life.”
James threw his head back and laughed, the sound grating in the tense air. “Spare me life? Ye truly are deluded if ye think ye have the upper hand here.” His expression twisted, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Did Erica ever tell ye how long I’ve waited for this? Since we were children, all I heard from me faither was how perfect the Kilmartin girls were. How Tillie was the jewel of the Highlands and Erica was a close second. When Tillie got married, it was clear Erica would be next. But thenye”—he spat out the word like a curse—“came along and ruined everything!”
Hunter took a step closer, his sword gleaming in the faint light. “This isnae about yer faither or childhood grudges. This is about ye being a coward who preys on the innocent.”
James’s face contorted with rage. “Coward? I’m nay coward, MacKinnon. I’m the man who is goin’ to break ye.” He looked back down at Erica, his voice dropping to a chilling murmur. “And I’ll make her forget ye ever existed.”
Erica glared at him, unflinching. “Ye will never get the chance.”
James’s response was vile. He slowly trailed his tongue along the side of her face, his eyes locked onto Hunter’s as he did so. “We’ll see about that.”
The act shattered the fragile tether of control Hunter had been clinging to. With a roar of pure rage, he surged forward, his sword swinging in a deadly arc.
James shoved Erica away, throwing her to the ground as he parried Hunter’s strike.
The clearing erupted into chaos.
Hunter’s sword clashed against James’s dagger, the sound of steel ringing through the night. James fought like a man possessed, his strikes wild and erratic, but Hunter’s fury fueled his precision. Blow after blow, he pushed James back, his movements calculated and deadly.
“Ye think this is about her?” James snarled, swinging his blade. Hunter sidestepped, before landing a brutal kick to James’s knee that sent him stumbling. “This is about ye, MacKinnon! Ye’ve always had everythin’—power, respect, family. While I—” He swung his dagger again, narrowly missing Hunter’s shoulder. “I’ve had to take what I want!”
Hunter’s voice was icy. “Ye didnae take anythin’. Ye stole. Ye killed. Ye have brought nothin’ but shame and ruin to Clan O’Farlane and everyone associated with ye.”
James’s lips curled into a sneer. “Killed? I havenae killed anyone… yet, anyway. But ye are slowly becoming the object of that desire.”
“Ye think people dinnae already ken what happened to yer wife, Morris? Do ye really believe that they pity ye while they suspect ye of killin’ her?”
“Och, is this about me dear, sweet wife? I guess since ye are about to die, I’ll let ye ken what actually happened to her.”
Hunter froze for the briefest moment, and James lunged, slicing his forearm. Hunter hissed but recovered quickly, his next strike forcing James to retreat.
James laughed, the sound hollow and cruel. “It was me, MacKinnon. I killed her. She was in the way—an obstacle to what I wanted. Just like Erica will be if she doesnae learn her place.”
Hunter’s vision cleared with rage, and he attacked with renewed ferocity, driving James further back. The man’s smug expression began to falter, replaced with desperation as Hunter’s strikes became too fast to counter.
“Ye are a coward and a liar,” Hunter growled, his voice like thunder. “And now, ye will pay for everythin’ ye have done.”
James, now bloodied and panting, glanced toward Erica, who had scrambled to her feet. “I did this for ye, Erica!” he shouted, his voice breaking. “Everythin’! I wrote to me faither—he’s ready to welcome ye into our family. Ye were meant to be mine!”
Erica’s response was blistering. “Ye are delusional, James. I’d rather die than go anywhere with ye.”
Her words seemed to break something inside him. He roared and charged at her, but Hunter was faster. He stepped between them, slamming his shoulder into James’s chest and knocking him to the ground.
James scrambled to his feet, his eyes wild. “Ye will regret this, MacKinnon! Both of ye will!”
Hunter did not give him the chance. He swung his sword with brutal precision, forcing him back until his heel caught on a root, sending him sprawling. Before James could recover, Hunter dug the heel of his boot into the man’s wrist, forcing him to release his dagger with a cry of pain.
He kneeled, pressing the tip of his sword against James’s throat. “This ends now.”
But James wasn’t done. His lips twisted into a cruel grin. “Ye will never truly have her, MacKinnon. She’ll always remember tonight. She’ll always remember me.”
Hunter’s face was a mask of cold fury. “Nay, James. She’ll remember the man who saved her. The man who loves her.”
James’s grin faltered, fear finally creeping into his eyes. “Wait?—”
Hunter did not wait. With a final, decisive strike, he drove his blade into James’s chest, the steel piercing through flesh and bone. James’s scream was cut short as blood trickled out of his lips. His body convulsed once, twice, before going still.
Hunter rose back up, breathing heavily, his gaze fixed on the lifeless body before him. He turned to Erica, and his expression softened as he rushed to her side.
