Page 2 of The Ruthless Highlander's Hellion
McLaren? What could he possibly be doing here?
“It cannae be good,” Alexandra murmured under her breath, more to herself than to Erica. The McLaren clan was known for their unpredictable nature, and their flag raised in the Sinclairs’ courtyard could only mean trouble.
“What do ye think they’re doing here?” Erica asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Alexandra shook her head slowly, her mind spinning with possible scenarios. “I dae nae ken,” she admitted. “I must see me brother.”
She gave Erica a reassuring look, though the doubt in her own heart remained. She pressed her hand on Erica's shoulder and then headed inside the castle with urgency.
As she neared her brother's study, Alexandra heard him cursing loudly. Her heart quickened, worried that something hadhappened to him. The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open, her eyes widening at the sight that met her.
There, standing at the large oak desk, was Caelan—his fists clenched, his face flushed with fury. His eyes, usually calm and calculating, were now darkened with rage.
“Caelan?” Alexandra asked, her voice soft but laden with concern. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Caelan’s head snapped up, and for a moment, his gaze softened as he looked at her. But it didn’t last. The storm brewing inside him returned, and he clenched his jaw, turning away to pace.
“Leo Rankin,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “The bastard’s come with an ultimatum.”
“What does he want from ye, Caelan?”
“He wants ye,” Caelan spat, his hands slamming against the wooden desk. “He says either I give ye to him as his bride, or he’ll declare war on us. It’s a threat, Alexandra, and it’s one he expects me to answer.”
Alexandra’s breath hitched in her chest, her mind racing to process what she was hearing. “A war?” she whispered, the weight of the words heavy on her tongue. “He cannae be serious. Surely, he doesnae think?—”
“He is serious,” Caelan interrupted, his voice cold and steely now. “And he thinks that ye are some prize to be won.” He turned to face her, his eyes seething with protective fury. “He thinks I’ll just hand ye over to him like some commodity. But I willnae do it, Alexandra. I willnae give ye to that sadistic bastard.”
She stepped back, a knot tightening in her stomach. “Caelan… I cannae be the cause of war. Ye ken I cannae…”
“Ye arenae the cause of anythin’,” he shot back sharply, his fists clenching tighter. “Rankin is the one causin’ this. He’s the one threatenin’ our very way of life. But I’ll be damned before I let him take ye. Ye’re all I’ve got left, and I willnae let him harm ye.”
Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as the reality of their situation settled over her like a dark cloud. She took a step toward him, her voice trembling. “I’ll go and pack me things, Caelan. It’s the only way to stop this. Ye'll nae be able to fight this war?—”
Caelan’s voice cut through her words like a blade. “Sit down, Alexandra.” Caelan’s gaze softened, but only slightly. He motioned for her to sit in one of the chairs by the fire, his movements deliberate. “If Rankin wants a war, then he will have one,” he said, his voice low and grim.
She could hardly comprehend the resolve in his voice, the strength behind his words. Her brother, the Laird, was always the picture of control, but this… this was different. He wasn’t just angry; he was prepared to fight, no matter the cost.
“Caelan, ye daenae mean this,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion. “This war, it will ruin us. It will ruin everythin’ ye’ve worked for. Ye cannae take that on. Nae for me.”
Caelan shook his head, his jaw tightening with determination. “I’ll take on whatever it takes to protect ye, Alexandra. If it means bloodshed, then I’ll shed it. If it means death, then I’ll face it. I willnae let Leo Rankin lay a hand on ye. Ye’re me only sister, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep ye safe.”
Alexandra felt the weight of his words sink into her heart, a mix of fear and gratitude rushing through her. Her brother, who had always been the strong, unflappable Laird, was now prepared to sacrifice everything for her. Her chest tightened at the thought.
Nae, I cannae let him do it. I must give meself to the brute, Leo Rankin.
CHAPTER TWO
"What do ye have to report? And be quick with it," Nicholas said.
"Word’s come that the carriage has been spotted," Marcus said, his voice low, yet eager. "It’s only a few hours out from here. We’ll be ready when it arrives."
Nicholas gave a brief nod, his gaze fixed on the distant road that led to Laird McLaren's castle. He had been waiting for this moment, a chance to retaliate against the man who had dared to take his son from him. The thought burned in his chest, but he forced himself to remain calm, his smirk betraying nothing but cold resolve.
“Good,” he said.
He looked up at the trees, watching them sway to determine the direction of the wind. He checked the sky for a chance of storms. He was a man of experience, and he left nothing to chance.
"When the time comes, we raid the carriage, and we take the lass. Nay mistakes. I daenae tolerate mistakes. Aye?" Nicholas said.
