The forest seemed endless. Her lungs burned, and her muscles screamed for relief, but she refused to stop. Then, as she broke through a dense thicket, she saw him.
“Alexander!” she cried, her voice cracking with relief.
He stood in the small clearing, his dark hair clinging to his face, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. His tunic was torn, his sword in hand, and his piercing hazel eyes widened as she stumbled toward him.
Helena collapsed into his arms, her body trembling as he caught her. She clung to him, her fingers gripping his soaked tunic as sobs wracked her frame.
“Helena,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as if shielding her from the storm itself. “Ye’re safe now, lass. I’ve got ye.”
She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her doe eyes searching his face.
Despite the bruises and cuts, he was alive, and that was all that mattered. Without thinking, she reached up and pressed her lips to his, the kiss filled with all the fear and relief that had consumed her.
He kissed her back, his arms tightening around her, and for a moment, the storm and the forest faded away. It was just the two of them, their love a shield against the chaos.
“Alexander,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Me faither, he’s close. We’ve got to go. He’ll?—”
Before she could finish, a crashing sound came from the trees ahead, and Chester emerged from the shadows. His face was twisted with fury, his eyes narrowing as he took them in.
“So, this is where ye’ve run to, is it nae?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “I should’ve kenned ye’d crawl back to him, lass. Ye’ve nay loyalty to yer blood.”
Alexander stepped in front of Helena, his broad shoulders shielding her from her father’s glare. His sword remained steady in his hand.
“She’s me wife now, Chester,” he said, his voice low but firm. “She belongs with me, and ye’ll nae take her.”
Chester sneered, taking a step closer. “Yer wife? Ye think that means something? She’s me daughter, MacAllister, and I’ll do with her as I please.”
Helena’s fists clenched, and she stepped out from behind Alexander. “Nay, ye will nae!” she shouted, her voice filled with defiance. “I’m nae a wee lass ye can order around anymore, Faither! I’ve made me decision, and I’ll stand by it. Alexander is me husband, and I love him!”
Alexander’s gaze flicked to her, a hint of surprise in his hazel eyes. He turned back to Chester.
“This feud between our clans is pointless,” he said, his voice unwavering. “It has brought nothin’ but death and ruin to us both. But it ends here, Chester. Helena and I will make somethin’ better. Our clans can have a future if only ye’d see reason.”
Chester barked out a laugh, his shoulders shaking with cruel amusement. “Reason? Ye think love and pretty words will stop me? Ye’re a fool, MacAllister, and so is me daughter.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened, his knuckles white around the hilt of his sword. “Ye cannae come between us,” he said. “I’ll fight ye if I must, but Helena stays with me. She’s nae a pawn in yer schemes.”
“Ye’ll be dead before the day’s end, MacAllister,” Chester sneered, his voice low and menacing.
As if on cue, the sound of footsteps echoed through the trees, and Helena’s heart leaped into her throat.
Chester grinned, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “Do ye hear that?” he taunted. “That’ll be the end of ye, lad.”
Alexander raised his sword, his stance unwavering. Helena stepped closer to him, her hand brushing his arm, her breath catching as the footsteps drew nearer.
The figure that emerged from the trees wasn’t one of Chester’s men. It was Michael, his tunic bloodied but his sword drawn, his expression grim and determined.
“Nae today,” he said, his voice steady despite the pain etched on his face.
Helena’s breath caught, hope blooming in her chest as she looked between the two men. Alexander nodded at his brother, who had come to his aid despite his injury, his expression fierce.
Helena stepped back, her heart racing as the tension crackled in the air. She knew this fight wasn’t over, and she truly feared what was about to happen. She could see Alexander was tired, still recovering from his injury, and that Michael was also injured, even if he tried to hide it.
She didn’t want her father dead, despite everything he’d done to her. She truly wanted peace, but she knew there was no way to stop the two feuding Lairds.
“Let’s finish this,” Alexander said, his voice filled with resolve. “Protect Helena, Michael. Return her to our home, nay matter what happens.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
