Chester’s lips curled into a cruel smile, his dark eyes gleaming with malice. “I’ll tell ye what I’m plannin’, lass. I’m takin’ ye back. I’ll marry ye off to the highest bidder—someone with the coin and the men to finally crush that MacAllister swine and his kin.”
Helena’s breath caught in her throat, her horror bubbling to the surface. “Ye cannae mean that,” she gasped.
“Oh, but I do,” Chester said, his tone cold. “It’s time ye stopped thinkin’ that yer life is yer own. Ye’re me daughter, and ye’ll do as I say.”
“Why so much hatred, Faither? Why?!”
“Ye cannae ken me reasons, child,” he growled. “Ye cannae ken what it is like to lose the woman ye love!”
“So ye would take me from the man I love?!” Helena’s fury boiled over, and she dug her heels into the ground again, trying to wrench free of his grasp. “I’ll nae let ye do this!” she shouted, her voice trembling with rage. “I’ll nae let ye sell me like cattle!”
Chester’s grip on her tightened painfully, his patience snapping. “Ye dinnae have a choice, lass. Ye’re mine, and ye’ll do as ye’re told.”
They passed by the crumbling outer wall of the ruined fort, its jagged stones slick with moss and rain. Helena’s mind raced, her heart thundering in her chest. She knew she couldn’t overpower him, but she spotted an opportunity, a momentary lapse in his focus as he adjusted his grip.
Gritting her teeth, she suddenly threw her weight sideways, slamming her body against his with all her strength. The impact sent Chester stumbling, his back colliding with the stone wall. He grunted in surprise, his grip loosening just enough for her to pull free.
Without hesitation, she turned and ran, her breath coming in panicked gasps.
The forest loomed before her, dark and foreboding despite the dim daylight filtering through the branches overhead. The undergrowth was thick with brambles and thorny vines, but she didn’t care.
“Helena!” Chester’s voice roared behind her, filled with rage. “Get back here!”
She ran faster, her lungs burning with the effort, her pulse pounding in her ears.
Branches tore at her arms and face, leaving thin, stinging cuts. The undergrowth clawed at her skirts, threatening to trip her, but she pushed forward, determined to put as much distance between herself and her father as possible.
Her breaths came in ragged bursts, each one mixing with the sound of cracking sticks beneath her boots. The forest seemed alive with noise, the creaking of branches, the rustling of leaves, and the relentless thudding of Chester’s boots.
“Ye’ll nae escape me, lass!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the trees.
Helena’s chest tightened, her fear threatening to consume her. But she forced herself to focus, her eyes scanning the darkened woods for any sign of a path or a hiding place. She couldn’t let him catch her. She wouldn’t.
Her fingers grazed the rough bark of a tree as she veered to the right, hoping to lose him in the dense undergrowth.
“Helena!” Chester’s voice was closer now, his tone furious.
She bit back a sob, her resolve hardening. “Ye’ll nae take me, Faither!” she shouted over her shoulder, her voice defiant.
The forest seemed to close in on her, the dim light barely piercing the canopy above. Her hands pushed away low-hanging branches, the sharp edges of leaves slicing at her fingers.
The sound of Chester’s pursuit was relentless, his heavy boots pounding against the forest floor. She could hear his curses, his threats, each one driving her forward.
The forest seemed endless, a maze of shadows and rain. But Helena refused to give in. Her fear was matched only by her determination to escape, to find her way back to Alexander, or to lose Chester in the depths of the woods.
“Ye’ll nae run forever, lass!” Chester’s voice was closer than before.
Helena’s heart pounded, and her vision blurred with tears and rain. She pushed forward, her heavy breaths mixing with the storm, her desperation driving her through the endless maze of trees.
“Helena!” Chester boomed, his tone dripping with malice. “Ye cannae run from me, lass! Ye’ll do as I say, or by God, ye’ll regret it!”
Helena’s chest tightened, and she bit back a sob. She clung to one thought, one desperate hope: the horses. If she could make it back to the horses, she could warn Alexander, or at least escape and find help.
“Ye’ll never control me!” she screamed over her shoulder, her voice hoarse. “I’m nae yer pawn, Faither! I’m married, and I’ll have Alexander’s bairns! This feud will end with me!”
Chester’s cruel laughter cut through the storm, sending a chill down her spine. “Ye daft, wee fool,” he shouted back, his footsteps drawing closer. “Ye think ye can decide how this ends? Ye’ve always been childish and stupid! Ye’ll do as I say, or I’ll drag ye back meself!”
The thought of Alexander gave her strength. She had to find him, warn him, save him if she could. She couldn’t let Chester win. Not now, not ever.
