Not his promises. Not his offers of safety. But the simple fact that he was giving her a choice. Giving her back the control that had been stripped away from her that night.
Slowly, Mhairi nodded.
"All right." The words were barely a whisper. "I'll come with ye. But if ye try anythin'—anythin'—I'll gut ye in yer sleep."
Despite everything, she saw his mouth twitch toward a smile. "Noted."
"I'm serious."
"I ken ye are." And there was something in his eyes—respect, maybe—that made her believe he actually did understand. That he saw the steel in her spine despite everything that had happened. "Come on. Me scout is waitin' with the horses."
He turned to head back the way they'd come, then paused when he realized she wasn’t following.
Mhairi stood frozen, arms still wrapped around herself. Now that the immediate danger had passed, now that she'd made her decision, everything was crashing down on her at once.
Her father had sold her. Her own father. And her sister—sweet, young Isobel—would be next.
"Mhairi?"
She drew in a shaky breath. "I just... I just need a moment."
"Take all the time ye need." Alpin leaned against a nearby tree, giving her space but staying close enough to protect her if anything came through the underbrush. "We're in no rush."
Mhairi nodded jerkily, then sank down onto a fallen log. Her hands were shaking—she could see it even in the dim light. Shock, probably. The kind that set in after the danger had passed.
She wanted to cry, to scream. Wanted to run back to that auction house and claw Graham's eyes out, then ride home and do the same to her father.
But she couldn’t do any of those things.
So she just sat. And breathed. And tried to piece herself back together.
After a few minutes, her breathing steadied. The shaking eased. She stood, brushed off her skirts, torn and filthy from the night's events, and lifted her chin.
She was Mhairi Munro. And she wasn’t broken yet.
"All right," she said. "I'm ready."
Alpin pushed away from the tree. "This way."
He led her back through the forest, taking a slightly different path than the one she'd run. When they reached a small clearing, Mhairi saw another man waiting with three horses and some other men further back that looked like guards.
The man's eyes flicked to her, then to Alpin. "Me laird. Is she?—"
"She's comin' with us, Callum," Alpin said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Back to the castle."
"Aye, me laird." The scout—Callum, she heard Alpin call him—didnae question it. Just nodded and moved to ready the horses.
Mhairi watched him work, wary. But he didn’t look at her the way the men at the auction had. Didn’t leer or smirk.
There were three horses tethered in the clearing—Alpin's bay stallion, Callum's roan, and a smaller grey mare.
"Can ye ride?" Alpin asked.
"Aye." Mhairi approached the smallest of the horses cautiously. "But... why dae ye have three horses?"
"We brought a spare in case we had tae move quickly, so we could rest a horse if necessary," Alpin explained. "Standard practice when scoutin' unknown territory. One can always followwithout the weight of a rider. Lucky fer ye, it means ye dinnae have tae ride double with one of us."
The mare was pretty, with a gentle eye. Mhairi reached out slowly, letting the animal sniff her hand before stroking her soft nose.
