Isabelle’s heart pounded violently, her wide eyes darting between the men, realizing with horror that escape was impossible now.
The wind whipped across her face, stinging her skin, and the boat rocked on the cold, dark waters. She clawed at the sides, holding on.
The boat pitched violently on the icy water, each wave lashing against its sides with a bitter hiss. Isabelle clutched the edge, knuckles white, her cloak whipping around her in the blustery wind.
“Let me go!” she demanded, her voice trembling despite her courage.
The taller man’s eyes glinted as he leaned close, his grip firm on her arm. “Ye scream, and ye’ll find yerself in the loch afore ye ken it,” he warned, his tone flat and chilling.
Isabelle swallowed, nodding in grim agreement, her throat tight with fear.
The vessel rocked again, throwing her off balance as the wind tore at her hair. Small shards of ice floated past, shimmering in the dull light, a stark reminder of the water’s deadly chill.
The men’s hands remained relentless, holding her steady, yet the constant sway of the boat made every motion a struggle. She pressed herself against the hull, heart hammering, feeling utterly powerless as the loch stretched endlessly before her.
A shiver ran through her as she realized just how unprepared she was for this. She didn’t know how to swim, and the icy waves promised a swift and cruel end if she fell.
The wind cut through her cloak, chilling her bones, and she could feel the water’s frigid mist. Isabelle’s mind spun, picturing the castle, the stone hearth, and the faces of the triplets she loved so dearly.
Tears threatened to spill as the reality struck her.
I may never see Declan or the children again.
Her chest ached with the thought, a raw, suffocating grief she had never known. The boat swayed on the waves, rocking them side to side, the sound of the oars slicing through the icy water like knives.
Each moment seemed to stretch into eternity, and Isabelle hugged herself, trying to ward off the panic that clawed at her chest.
She stared back at the distant castle, its spires blurred by the snow and wind, feeling her heart fracture with longing. Her mind raced, trying to find some plan, some escape, yet every thought ended in helplessness.
The boat rocked again, throwing her against the side, and she closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, wishing desperately for a miracle.
The men muttered to each other, their conversation a low, grating murmur lost to the howl of the wind.
Her heart ached with fear and longing, and the thought of Declan and the triplets burned in her chest, making her shiver beyond the cold.
The wind screamed through the trees, carrying with it the sting of snowflakes as the boat ground against the opposite shore. Isabelle was yanked roughly to her feet, her boots sinking into the icy mud, and the two fishermen flanked her.
“Ye’re comin’ with us, Lady McCallum,” one growled, gripping her arm like iron.
“I want no trouble,” Isabelle said, her teeth chattering,
This isn’t how I wish to leave me home or me husband.
Her heart clenched at the thought of Declan, imagining her last words with him filled with anger instead of love.
“If I never see him again… I will regret every harsh word,” she whispered, voice lost to the gale.
The men ignored her murmuring, dragging her toward the dark line of trees at the edge of the shore.
Suddenly, Isabelle’s fear ignited into action, and she twisted from their grasp, breaking into a run along the snow-covered bank.
“Stop her!” one barked, and the other lunged, boots cutting into the frozen ground.
Her eyes scanned frantically for the castle watch high on the walls or any sign of help, but the misty air swallowed everything in a blur of white.
A misstep sent her sprawling, sliding and rolling toward the icy edge of the loch, terror clawing at her chest.
A hand caught her just as she teetered at the brink, pulling her backward onto solid ground.
