Page 73 of Highlander’s Evil Side

“Yer not Fraser,” she rasped.

The man before her tossed back his head, bursting into a fit of dark laughter. “Nae, I am not, my dear Beitris. Wonderful of ye to notice. A smart one, now aren’t ye?”

Beitris clutched at her chest, feeling as if it would burst from her at any moment. She inhaled, yet no matter how hard she tried to breathe, she couldn’t get any air. “Who are ye?” She croaked, her face heating while tears streamed down her cheeks. “Where’s Fraser?”

“Fraser is gone,” said the man while planting his hands on either side of her, making her jump.

Beitris scrambled to get away from him, but the man was too fast, too strong. He grabbed her hand and pinned it to the mattress while leaning over her, his breath nauseating her senses. Bile rose, and she felt as if she was going to be sick.

“What did ye do to him?” Beitris’s voice cracked on the words. “Where is he?”

“That doesn’t matter, sweet Beitris,” he whispered while pushing her hair away from her face. “I am Fraser now. That’s all that matters. And soon, we will be man and wife.”

“Nae,” Beitris sobbed while shaking her head. Her heart was breaking. She felt as if the world was falling away from her and darkness was swallowing her whole. “Never.”

“Aye, ye will.” This Fraser standing before her grabbed her chin harshly, lifting her gaze to him. “Ye will marry me tomorrow, or yer father will die.”

Beitris’s eyes widened; her body went cold. “I will never marry ye,” she whispered.

“Aye, ye will.” He shoved her away from him and straightened. His hands ran over his leine, smoothing the wrinkles of his garments.

Her gaze moved to the sleeves, noticing the scars peeking out from underneath. Seeing them now was like a punch to the gut. She should have seen them before; she should have known to question him the moment he entered beyond the walls. Her worry for Fraser had blinded her, and now she had to pay the price.

“Ye will do exactly what I tell ye to do,” said this man while stalking towards the door.

Beitris rose from the bed, her anger taking hold. “Ye may have taken Fraser’s place, but yer naething like him. Ye will never be like him. Yer naething but a pathetic shell of a man. Everyone will see it. Everyone will—”

Beitris gasped as she felt a hand slam against her cheek. Her legs gave out, and she fell to the floor. The ache in her cheek stung her eyes and made her head pound. The pain spread through her face, and she held her hand to the injured skin as she bit back a whimper. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw boots, felt the man’s body hovering above her.

“Ye know naething!” he shouted. “Yer naething but a woman, and I am laird. Ye will obey me.”

Beitris flinched and clamped her eyes closed, worried he would hit her again.

“Remember that, my lady.”

Beitris bit back a sob. The sound of boots stomping and the door slamming closed gave her leave to cry. She sobbed into her hands, crying for the death of her love and the life she must live. There must be some way out of this, she wondered. Her tears ebbed, and she perked up, forcing her body off the floor. She needed to warn her father. They could leave. The Gordon men were here. They would stop this imposter from marrying her.

She threw open the door, but before she could take one step into the hall, the two guards standing on either side of her door stepped in her path. Beitris gasped, taking a step back as they approached her.

“Let me pass,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Yer to stay here, my lady,” said one with a leering look.

“Laird MacClery’s orders,” said the other.

Beitris opened her mouth but quickly closed it when she felt the tears threatening to take hold. She stepped back into her room and slammed the door shut, bolting it in case the soldiers got any better ideas. They weren’t MacClery men. She could trust no one, and she had no clue how to get a message to her father. Beitris strode towards her window, gazing out at the fields and the narrow path snaking through the lands. Her future was in Scott’s hands. She only hoped he would get to Hendry in time.