The man’s gaze didn’t waver. “Because we’re still here, are we nae? If we wanted to harm ye or Lady Helena, we’d have let Chester’s men cut ye down while we stood aside. But we didnae.”
Alexander glanced at Michael, who was pale and breathing heavily, his hand pressed to his wounded side. James leaned against a crumbled stone wall, barely conscious, blood streaming down his face. They weren’t in any shape to continue, not with the danger that lay ahead.
Alexander cursed under his breath, weighing his options. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to press forward, to hunt down Chester and rip him apart with his bare hands if necessary. But his men needed him, and the three strangers before him—if they were telling the truth—could help them.
He turned to Michael, his voice firm but low. “Ye’re stayin’ here.”
Michael’s eyes widened in protest. “Like hell I am! It’s me duty to protect ye, Alexander. I cannae let ye go after Chester alone.”
Alexander’s gaze was hard, his tone unyielding. “Yer duty is to live another day and fight for this clan when I cannae. Ye’ll stay here and let these men see to yer wounds.” He cast a warning glance at the burly man. “If they so much as touch a hair on yer head, they’ll pay with their lives.”
Michael shook his head, frustration and guilt etched on his face. “It feels like I’m failin’ ye, leavin’ ye to face this on yer own.”
Alexander gripped his brother’s shoulder, his expression softening for just a moment. “Ye’re nae failin’ me. I need ye alive, Michael. This fight is mine to finish.”
Michael hesitated, his jaw clenched, but he finally nodded. “Alright. But ye’d better come back in one piece, or I’ll be haulin’ yer sorry hide out of whatever mess ye land yerself in.”
Alexander managed a faint smirk before turning to the three strangers. “See to his wounds and make yerselves useful. If anythin’ happens to me men, I’ll hunt ye down meself.”
Their leader nodded solemnly. “We’ll see to them, Me Laird. Ye have me word.”
Alexander didn’t waste another moment. He sheathed his sword, adjusted the belt at his waist, and strode out of the ruin and into the pouring rain. His boots sank into the mud as he moved with purpose, his mind racing.
The sound of Helena’s screams reached him through the storm, faint but unmistakable. Each cry cut through him like a dagger, spurring him forward despite the exhaustion weighing down his limbs.
“I’m comin’ for ye, Helena,” he growled. “And Chester will wish he never drew breath by the time I’m done with him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Rain poured relentlessly from the heavens, soaking Helena to the bone as her father dragged her through the overgrown path. Her boots skidded across slick stones, and her wrists ached from the iron grip he had on her arm.
“Let me go!” she cried, twisting against him. Her voice broke with desperation. “What are ye doin’? Where are ye takin’ me?”
Chester didn’t answer, his face a mask of stony resolve as he yanked her forward. His boots crushed the wet leaves beneath them, his broad shoulders hunched against the rain.
“Faither, please!” Helena screamed. “Ye cannae do this! Ye’ve lost yer mind!”
“Quiet,” Chester growled.
Helena tried to dig her heels into the muddy path, but he was much stronger. Every attempt to wrest herself free was met witha harder tug, jerking her forward and nearly off her feet. Her tears mingled with the rain, her heart pounding with fear and frustration.
“Why are ye doin’ this?” she pressed, her voice trembling. “What have I done to deserve this?”
Chester stopped abruptly, spinning to face her. His face was red with fury, droplets of rain running down his weathered skin.
“What have ye done?” he barked. “Ye’ve shamed me, lass! Marryin’ that brute without askin’ for me permission? Thinkin’ ye could run off and live yer life?”
Helena flinched as he raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face. The sting burned hot against the cold rain, and she gasped, stumbling back.
“Ye should’ve thought harder before betrayin’ yer own blood,” Chester snarled.
He seized her arm again, dragging her toward the shadowed tree line that followed the river.
Helena’s chest heaved with sobs as she stumbled along behind him. “Betrayed ye? Is that what ye think this is?” Her voice cracked with anger. “I did what I had to do to stop this madness! This war has cost us everything, Faither! It’s killed our kin?—”
“Enough!” Chester bellowed. “This war’s nae over, and it’ll end when I say it does!”
Helena’s stomach churned as his words sank in. “What does that mean?” she demanded. “What are ye plannin’?”
