Alexander took a step forward, his body tense. “Enough of this. Why are ye really here, Chester? And why did ye bring so many men?”
Chester’s smile faltered for a moment, and his eyes flicked briefly to Helena before returning to Alexander. “Oh, ye’ll find out soon enough.”
Helena frowned, glancing between them. “Faither, please, just tell us?—”
“Grab her,” Chester barked suddenly, dropping all pretense of warmth.
Before Helena could react, two of his men lunged forward, gripping her arms and pulling her roughly away from Alexander. She let out a startled cry, struggling against their hold.
“Helena!” Alexander roared, his sword drawn in an instant, the blade gleaming even in the dim light.
Michael and James moved in tandem, their weapons unsheathed and ready.
The air crackled with tension as Chester’s men drew their swords, forming a semi-circle around their Laird.
Chester’s smile returned, colder now, as he held up a hand to halt his men. “Easy, lads. Nay need to get carried away… yet.”
Alexander’s eyes flashed with fury as he took a step forward, his blade pointed at the man. “If ye hurt her, I’ll cut ye into pieces,” he growled, his voice low and deadly.
Chester chuckled, yanking Helena toward him. His men lifted their swords.
Helena was trembling with shock and disbelief.
Chester patted her on the shoulder as she started struggling against him. “Och, come now, Alexander. Ye dinnae think I’d harm me daughter, do ye? She’s the key to all of this. But ye? Ye’re expendable.”
“Faither, what are ye doin’? Stop this madness!” Helena hissed, her doe eyes blazing.
“Madness?” Chester repeated, feigning offense. “Nay, lass, this is strategy. Ye may nae understand it now, but ye will, eventually. It’s for the good of the clan.”
Alexander’s mind raced as he considered his next move. His focus narrowed down to a single goal: protecting Helena at all costs. His grip on his sword tightened as he locked eyes with Chester.
“Let her go,” he said coldly. “Now.”
Chester tilted his head, his smile mocking. “Or else?”
“Or else I’ll burn ye and yer whole clan to ashes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The sharp clash of Alexander’s sword against Chester’s men still rang in his ears as he stood in the middle of the crumbling stone structure, his chest heaving. His hazel eyes flashed with rage as he watched Chester tighten his grip on Helena’s arm and drag her toward the old archway.
“Let her go, Chester!” he roared, his voice cutting through the rain.
He took a step forward, his sword raised and gleaming in the dim light.
Chester turned to face him, his crooked grin unwavering. “She’s me daughter, lad. I’ll do as I please. Ye think she belongs to ye now just because ye wed her? Nay, she was mine first.”
Helena struggled against her father’s iron grip, her face contorted with a mix of fury and fear. “Faither, stop this! Ye’ve gone mad!”
“Silence, lass,” Chester snapped, dragging her further toward the open rain.
Alexander surged forward, the fire in his veins pushing him to the brink. “If ye take another step, ye will regret it, Fraser.”
Chester only laughed, the sound cold and mocking. “Ye’ve got bigger problems, Alexander.” He gestured to his men, a sinister glint in his dark eyes. “Kill him. Kill them all.”
“Nay!” Helena screamed, struggling harder against him. “Faither, please! Dinnae do this! I want to stay with Alexander! I want to be with me husband!”
Her voice, filled with desperation, struck Alexander like a blade to the heart. He surged forward, his sword raised, but the clash of steel behind him stopped him in his tracks. Chester’s men advanced, their swords drawn, their cruel smiles promising bloodshed.
