“Enough,” he said, his voice low and filled with disdain. “What do ye truly want, Chester? Is this feud worth destroyin’ yer daughter’s life?”
Chester sneered, but Alexander didn’t waver. His sword remained poised, his eyes trained on the older man.
Behind him, Helena and Michael watched from the edge of the trees, holding their breath. Helena’s face was pale, her hands trembling as she clutched Michael’s arm.
Alexander’s heart ached at the sight of her, at the fear and sorrow etched on her features. He turned his attention back to Chester, his jaw tightening with resolve.
“Ye’re a madman, Fraser…”
Chester’s eyes flashed, his fury boiling over. He lunged at Alexander with a guttural roar, their swords clashing violently. The sound of steel meeting steel echoed through the trees as they fought, both men driven by raw emotion.
Chester’s movements were erratic, his anger making him dangerous. He swung his blade in powerful, reckless arcs, forcing Alexander to back away. Alexander parried and dodged, but the older man’s ferocity was unrelenting.
“Ye’ll nae take her from me!” Chester bellowed, his sword slicing through the air. “And ye’ll nae make me bow to yer cursed name!”
Alexander grunted as their blades met again, the force jolting through his arms. “The Gordon name is hers now. Her children and yer heir will havemename. That’s how this ends.”
The words seemed to send Chester into a frenzy. With a roar, he wrenched his blade free and struck hard, the tip of his sword slicing into Alexander’s arm. Blood seeped through the fabric of his sleeve, but Alexander didn’t falter.
He stepped back, gritting his teeth against the pain.
Chester pressed forward, laughing darkly. “Bleedin’, are ye? Aye, that’s just the start. Ye’ll bleed for everything ye’ve done.”
Alexander didn’t respond, his mind focused on the man’s wild swings. Anger made him sloppy, and Alexander seized his chance. He sidestepped a clumsy thrust and swung his blade down, slicing into Chester’s leg.
The wound wasn’t deep, but it was enough to slow him down.
Chester stumbled, cursing under his breath as he steadied himself against a tree. His expression twisted into something almost unrecognizable—pure hatred, but also desperation.
“Ye’ll die for this,” he spat, his voice trembling with rage. “Nay one will take me title. Nay one will inherit what’s mine. I’ll see to that, just like I always have.”
Alexander furrowed his brow, his sword still raised. “What are ye talkin’ about, Chester? Who’s tryin’ to take yer title? Ye’re mad! Ye cannae live forever!”
Chester’s laugh was bitter, his eyes gleaming with twisted pride. “The council wanted me son to take over. Said it was time I stepped down. Fools, the lot of them. They thought they could force me aside. So, I took care of it.”
The weight of the revelation hit Alexander like a blow. “Ye…What?” he hissed.
Chester grinned, the madness in his eyes growing. “Aye, I killed him. Me own son. He and me nephew, Ian, were both threats to me. And it worked. I’m still the Laird. None of them dared to challenge me again.”
A sharp cry broke through the storm.
Helena had fallen to her knees, her hands trembling as she pressed them to her face. “Ye killed them?” she sobbed, her voice cracking. “Yer own son? Yer sister’s only child? Why, Faither? Why would ye do that?!”
Chester turned to her, his expression hardening. “Because they were weak, lass. They werenae fit to lead and threatened me just by drawin’ breath. Same as ye.”
Helena’s sobs grew louder, and Alexander’s fury rose with every second. He could feel his hands shaking as he gripped his sword, his teeth clenched against the urge to end it all right there.
But Chester wasn’t done. He pointed his sword at Helena, his face a mask of cruelty. “And ye? I’d planned to deal with ye, too. Pin it on him.” He gestured toward Alexander. “Just like I did with the others. But ye’re more valuable to me alive, ye traitorous wench.”
Helena gasped, her face pale as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Michael moved to her side, his expression grim as he helped her to her feet. “Helena, dinnae listen to him,” he said, his voice soft but urgent. “He’s lost his mind.”
Chester laughed, the sound echoing through the forest. “Lost me mind, have I? Nay, lad. I see things clearer than ever. Power is all that matters. It’s all that’s ever mattered.”
Alexander’s vision blurred with rage, his breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. He stepped forward, his sword steady despite the fire burning in his chest.
“Ye’re nae a man,” he growled, his voice trembling with fury. “Ye’re a coward. A monster. And I’ll make sure ye never hurt her or anyone else ever again.”
