Page 60 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
Elena’s tiny fingers clutched at his tunic, her face buried against his shoulder as she sobbed. He ran a soothing hand over her back, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. The castle had felt heavy with Margaret’s presence, but now, with her leaving, it was as if a weight had been lifted.
He kissed Elena’s hair and whispered, "Daenae fash, lass. She’ll nae trouble ye again." His voice was low but firm, a silent promise to protect her.
Elena hiccupped and sniffled, her small arms tightening around his neck. "I miss Cassandra," she mumbled against his chest.
Hunter exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching at the mention of Cassandra’s name. He missed her too, more than he dared to admit.
Elena pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face peering up at him. "Can we go find her?" she asked hopefully, her big eyes pleading with him.
Hunter’s chest ached at her words. He had tried to tell himself that Cassandra had left by her own choice, that she had walked away from him willingly. But seeing Elena’s pain only deepened the truth he had been avoiding—he had let Cassandra go without a fight. "I daenae ken if she wants to see us, lass," he admitted softly.
Elena frowned, her small brows furrowing. "She loves us," she insisted. "She wouldnae leave if she dinnae think she had to."
Hunter swallowed hard, guilt pressing against his ribs. "Aye," he murmured. "Mayhap she thought she had nay choice." He had given her no reason to stay, had stood silent when she left instead of asking her to remain.
Elena wiped her nose on his tunic and nodded. "Then we have to tell her she does," she said firmly.
Hunter chuckled despite himself, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. "Ye’ve got a strong heart, wee one," he said. He could not ignore the truth any longer—Cassandra belonged with them. And this time, he would not let her go so easily.
He turned on his heel and strode down the corridor, Elena still nestled in his arms. Margaret would be gone within the hour, and after that, he had only one thing left to do. He would find Cassandra. And he would bring her home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Late that night, after Margaret and Michael left the castle, Hunter stirred from his restless sleep, his ears catching the faintest cry echoing through the corridors. Then Leonora barked loudly with panic. His heart leaped into his throat as he recognized Elena’s voice, sharp with fear. Without hesitation, he threw back the covers and bolted from his chamber, his bare feet pounding against the cold floor.
He reached Elena’s room in seconds, his instincts screaming that something was terribly wrong. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, his blood ran cold at the sight before him. Margaret stood by the bed, her hands clutching Elena’s small frame, dragging her toward the door. Elena kicked and struggled, tears streaming down her face as she fought against her mother’s grip. Leonora tore at Margaret's skirt.
"Unhand her this instant!" Hunter bellowed, his voice like thunder in the small chamber.
Margaret froze for a brief moment, then yanked Elena closer, her wild eyes meeting his. "She’s me daughter," she spat, her voice filled with venom. "I willnae leave without her!"
Hunter’s hands curled into fists, his fury barely contained. "She is nae yers to take!" he roared. "Ye lost that right long ago when ye abandoned her!" Elena sobbed and reached toward him, her small hands trembling.
Margaret’s grip on the child tightened. "I willnae let ye poison her against me," she hissed. "She deserves a maither, nae a brute like ye raisin’ her alone!"
Hunter stepped closer, his body coiled with rage. "A maither protects her bairn, she doesnae terrify her!"
Elena thrashed in Margaret’s hold, her cries growing louder. "Papa!" she wailed, desperation laced in her voice. Hunter had heard enough. In one swift motion, he lunged forward, tearing Elena from Margaret’s grasp.
Margaret staggered back, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "Ye will regret this," she seethed. "Mark me words, Hunter, I willnae go quietly!"
His voice was like steel. "Ye tried to steal me daughter in the dead of night. That alone is treason against yer own clan."
Margaret’s face twisted with rage, but he did not stop.
"Ye will be imprisoned at dawn and executed for what ye have done."
A cruel smile spread across Margaret’s lips. "If I’m to die, I’ll nae go alone," she sneered. In a flash, she pulled a hidden dagger from the folds of her cloak. With deadly speed, she lunged toward Elena.
Hunter moved on pure instinct. He threw himself in front of his daughter, catching Margaret’s wrist before the blade could reach its mark. With a growl of fury, he twisted her arm, forcing the knife from her grasp. He struck deep with her own blade, sending her crumpling onto the floor.
He grabbed Elena shielding her eyes and ran out of the room with Leonora behind them.
Elena sobbed into his tunic, her tiny body trembling against him. Hunter held her tightly, his heart racing, fury and fear battling within him.
Daniel rushed toward them, sword in hand. His eyes darted between Hunter, the crying child. "What happened?" he demanded.
Hunter exhaled sharply. "Margaret tried to take Elena. And when I stopped her, she tried to kill her. So, I took her life. She's in the room.
