Page 60 of Bewitching her Highland Savior

Word spread fast. It wouldn’t be just Macleod who would resent her. Every noble and every servant in the Highlands would be talking about her – about the disgrace she had brought upon her family.

Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She had no sympathy for any of them anymore. After all, no one had shown her any sympathy, so she didn’t see why it should be her duty to bring any honor to her family.

“Willnae it be better if he marries yer daughter anyway? She hasnae done anythin’. She’s far more virtuous than I am and she has done nothin’ to anger Macleod or bring us any shame,” Muriel said. If she could only convince Hextilda then perhaps she could convince her father, as his wife.

Then again, he had never listened to Muriel. She didn’t know why he would ever listen to Hextilda.

“Me daughter will marry Macleod,” Hextilda said with an unshakable certainty. “She will marry him because I’ll make sure ye’re nae around to marry him.”

As she spoke, Hextilda pulled a knife from her pocket, its blade glinting under the soft candlelight. Her expression was stony but there was a gleam in her eyes that betrayed her eagerness to kill. Muriel's breath caught in her throat at the sight, and despite the fact that she knew there was nowhere for her to go, she pressed herself flat against the wall.

I was wrong. She doesnae care about bein’ cautious anymore. She will kill me.

For all the pain that Hextilda had caused her as she was growing up, it was still hard for Muriel to believe that she would go so far as to kill her. Threaten to kill her, perhaps, but taking her life seemed too cruel – even for her.

Despite this, she had already attempted to murder her, albeit not with her own two hands. She had sent men after her, and the only reason she was still alive was because Liam was there to save her. But Liam was no longer there. Muriel had no choice but to save herself.

It’s alright. Liam has shown me how to fight.

She hadn’t had the chance to practice much but she doubted that Hextilda had any fighting experience either. Her only true advantage was the blade in her hands.

But I’m also trapped here. How will I run away from her?

Muriel didn’t have time to come up with a plan. Hextilda raised her knife above her head, mouth curled into a vicious snarl as she brought it back down, aiming for Muriel’s chest. Muriel only managed to avoid the blade by sliding to the side, its tip grazing her arm just enough to draw a few drops of blood. The sting coursed through her flesh and her hand clamped instinctively over the wound but her focus shifted to the now empty path in front of her. She dashed to the door, but she only got a few steps before Hextilda stopped her with a hand on her arm.

Muriel didn't know if her madness had made her stronger or if she had always been deceptively strong. All she knew was that Hextilda's hand was a vice around her, bound to bruise her, and that no matter how hard she pulled, Hextilda wouldn't let go.

“I vowed I’d kill ye!” Hextilda shouted; her voice echoing around the chamber. “I’ve been tryin’ for so long! Noo that ye’re in me grasp, I’m nae lettin’ ye go.”

“I gave ye what ye wanted!” Muriel said. “Yer daughter can have Macleod; I dinnae care!”

“With ye in the way, there can only be trouble,” Hextilda said. “I’ll make sure ye cannae cause any trouble ever again.”

As she spoke, Hextilda brought down the blade once more and Muriel used her free hand to grab her wrist, stopping her. The angle was strange, giving her little leverage and as much as she tried, the tip of the blade moved closer inch by inch; slowly heralding her death.

Muriel's skin was drenched in cold sweat. The knife was so close to her that the effort required to keep Hextilda's arm away made her shake. She didn't want to die this way. But she couldn't fight Hextilda if her strength was failing her. How could she keep herself alive when all her efforts left her exhausted?

Hextilda seemed to notice the effect of Muriel's efforts, as she panted and growled like a beast, her eyes wide and wild as she stared at her. Her rage had driven her insane, but her resistance was fading as Muriel tired her out.

But then Hextilda screamed. It was a deafening sound, a frightening one. And with it, she put all her strength into her efforts once more, until Muriel knew she had no chance against her.

But, just when Muriel thought she had no hope left, the door slammed open with a thud, and Hextilda was thrown off her. Muriel took a few dazed steps back, putting some space between them, when she noticed a servant wrestling the knife away from Hextilda.

Did he hear us and come to save me?

But what was the servant even doing there so late at night, especially when everyone else was outside, trying to control the fire? Muriel looked at the man as he tried to subdue a thrashing Hextilda, and it only took her a few moments to recognize him as Liam, despite his disguise.

Once again, he had come to save her, even though Muriel had begged him to stay away.

It’s a good thing he never listens.

Muriel was relieved that Liam had returned to save her yet again, but fear coiled deep within her at the thought that he could be found at any moment. If he was wearing a disguise, it could only mean that he had sneaked into the keep without her father's knowledge.

Was he the one who started the fire? Was it a distraction?

It seemed likely that Liam would have come up with such a plan but it had also given Hextilda the perfect chance to kill Muriel. She didn’t want to think about what could have happened had he not made it to her room in time.

“Stop fightin’,” Muriel heard Liam say; voice rough with a lack of breath. “Just give me the knife.”