Page 39 of The Ruthless Highlander's Hellion
“Nay,” Alexandra murmured. “He’s worse in some ways. He took us captive, threatened us—yet... when he looks at me, it’s like he sees me. And part of me wants to be seen the way he looks at me.”
Erica rested a hand on her arm. “That’s nae a crime, me lady. Sometimes the heart finds its way where we least expect. But why leave?”
“I think I should,” Alexandra said, her voice tight. “Before I forget who I am. Before I let him make me into somethin’ I cannae be.”
Erica nodded. “Then speak with him about it.”
Alexandra looked up at the towering stone walls around the garden, the scent of rosemary clinging to the breeze. She’d never felt more torn—part of her still clung to duty, to loyalty, to the life she was meant to lead. But another part, bold and treacherous, longed to stay just a little longer. And that part frightened her most of all.
Alexandra left the garden with quick steps, skirts brushing the stone path, her heart set. The sooner she left, the better—for her, for Nicholas, and for the safety of her clan. Each moment she lingered only deepened the tangle in her chest. She could not risk losing herself in this place.
She turned the corner near the courtyard and stopped short at the sight before her. Nicholas stood with his son hoisted on his shoulders, the boy’s laughter echoing off the walls. Nicholas looked up at Charlie with a rare softness in his eyes, one that made Alexandra’s chest ache. For a fleeting second, she let herself imagine belonging in that warmth.
She stepped forward, smoothing her skirts. “Laird… Nicholas,” she called, voice steady despite the tremble in her fingers.
He looked over, brows raised, and she managed a tight smile.
“May I have a word? In private.”
Nicholas lowered Charlie gently and gave the lad a small pat on the back. “Go on with the nursemaid, lad,” he said, ruffling his son’s hair.
Charlie nodded and ran off, waving. Without another word, Nicholas turned and motioned for Alexandra to follow.
They walked in silence through the hall, boots thudding lightly against stone. Nicholas opened the door to his study and stepped aside, letting her pass first. The room smelled of smoke and leather, and papers were scattered across the desk like restless thoughts. He closed the door behind them and crossed his arms, waiting.
Alexandra took a breath, her fingers curling into the folds of her gown. She had to say it—before she lost her resolve.
“I’ll be leavin’,” she said, quiet but sure. “And I’d like to ask ye nae to stop me.”
Alexandra stood stiff in the center of the study, her hands clenched at her sides.
The fire crackled behind Nicholas, but there was no warmth in his eyes. "What?"
“I said I'm leavin’, Nicholas,” she lifted her chin. “It's time I go.”
His arms crossed over his broad chest, unmoving as a stone wall. “Ye’re nae leavin’. Nae now, nae ever.” His voice was low and cold, like steel drawn from its sheath. “I told ye before—I’ll nae let ye go.”
Her nostrils flared as her temper rose like a storm tide. “Ye’ve nay right to keep me here! If I daenae go to Rankin’s castle, he’ll strike against me brother. Caelan will suffer, and it’ll be yer fault.” Her voice cracked, and her throat tightened with emotion.
Nicholas stepped forward, his boots heavy against the rug. “I daenae care what threats that mad dog makes. I’ll nae send ye into his hands.” His jaw clenched, and a muscle ticked in his cheek. “Ye’ll stay here, where I can keep ye safe.”
“Safe?” she spat the word like venom. “I’m a prisoner in yer halls! This isnae safety, Nicholas—it’s control. Ye cannae chain me here like a beast!”
He moved closer, and his voice lowered. “Aye, I can. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep ye from Rankin.” His gaze burned into hers, firm and unyielding. “Ye’ll thank me one day.”
She stepped back, breath short and shallow. “Ye brute,” she hissed. “Ye think ye can command everythin’ around ye like yer guards and walls. But I’m nae yers to command.”
“Aren’t ye?” he snapped, stepping toward her again. “Ye’re mine, Alexandra. Ye’ve been mine since the moment I laid eyes on ye.” His voice was sharp, his words biting.
Alexandra’s cheeks burned with fury and shame. “I’m nae a thing to be owned!” Her hands trembled as she pointed toward the door. “And I’d rather take me chances with Rankin than stay another day under yer roof!”
Nicholas’s face darkened, but he said nothing. His silence pressed heavy between them, thick with rage and something else she dared not name. She turned sharply, skirts whipping against her legs. Her boots struck the stone as she stormed out.
The door slammed behind her with a crack that echoed down the hall. Her breath came fast, her chest rising and falling in sharp rhythm. She didn’t stop walking until the corridor twisted and the study was far behind. Her heart pounded with fury—but also confusion.
I hate him. I have to. So why do me eyes sting?
Alexandra made it to her bedchamber and slammed her door. She pressed her back to it, her chest still heaving. Her room felt too small, the walls pressing in close, thick with the heat of her rage and confusion. She walked to the window, then back again,pacing like a caged hawk. Her thoughts spun round and round, tangled like thread in a storm wind.
