Page 94 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

Dougal glared at him, bloodied and bruised but defiant. "Ye think ye’re going tae survive me cousin? Ye’ll be dead before the next sunrise."

Ruaridh moved quickly, slicing through the chains that held Dougal against the wall. The man barely sagged before he was on his feet, his body swaying weakly.

“Move it,” Ruaridh snapped, grabbing his arm as Dougal tried to steady himself.

The prisoner shot him a venomous glare, his teeth bared. “I ken me cousin is already here tae get me out,” he spat, a mix of hatred and defiance in his voice. “Yer fight’s already lost, ye’ll never win. Ye’re all dead men.”

Ruaridh’s grip tightened on Dougal’s arm, his voice low and dangerous. “I assure ye, yer cousin daesnae care about ye. Yer just a pawn to him. Now move.”

Dougal jerked back, pulling himself away from Ruaridh’s grip, his face twisted with anger and pain. “Ye think ye can control me? I’ll see ye dead first.”

Suddenly, Dougal’s fist flew toward Ruaridh. The blow missed, and Ruaridh caught Dougal’s wrist with ease. They struggled for a moment, each one trying to land a blow. Ruaridh grunted, his patience wearing thin as he twisted Dougal’s arm behind his back, forcing him to the floor.

“Enough!” Ruaridh growled, his voice commanding. “Ye try anything like that again, and I swear tae the gods, I’ll kill ye meself and send ye back tae MacNab’s castle in pieces.”

Dougal seethed beneath him, breathing hard but too weak to fight back. “I’ll nae die here. I’ll make sure ye regret this.”

Ruaridh moved quickly, shoving Dougal toward the narrow door leading to the kitchen storage. “In there,” he barked, his tone cold and final.

Dougal hesitated for a moment before moving, the pain evident in his every step. Ruaridh followed, checking for any signs of movement in the corridors. He pushed a large barrel of salted meat in front of the door, obscuring it from view.

“Stay in there. Keep quiet. If ye try tae escape, I’ll make sure ye dinnae see another sunrise.”

Dougal shot him a venomous look, retreating into the small room. Ruaridh paused, ensuring the door was well-hidden before turning toward the battle outside.

The fight raged on. The sounds of the battle grew louder, more chaotic. Ruaridh knew he didn’t have much time. He had to return to the front lines, or they would lose this fight. But Dougal was secure, at least for now.

As he turned to leave, Ruaridh heard the sound of footsteps. His instincts flared, and he whirled around just in time to see two MacNab guards walking toward the dungeon.

“Oi! Ye! Where is the MacNab prisoner?” one of the guards shouted, raising his weapon.

The other yelled, as he lunged at Ruaridh.

Ruaridh’s sword flashed, cutting through the first guard with brutal precision. Blood splattered across his face as he turned to the second guard. The man hesitated for a moment, fear flickering in his eyes before he raised his sword.

“Ye’re dead!” the guard shouted, charging at Ruaridh.

But Ruaridh was faster. He twisted to the side, delivering a crushing blow to the guard’s side. The man crumpled to the floor, gasping for air, and Ruaridh finished him off with a final strike.

“Damned fools,” Ruaridh muttered, wiping the blood from his sword.

Ruaridh returned to the battle with renewed focus, his thoughts on his next move. The fight wasn’t over yet, and it was time to press forward. He would protect the castle and his people, and Murray would have to answer for everything he had done.

The sound of clashing swords, the roar of men, and the scream of death filled the air as Ruaridh rejoined the fray. His heart pounded in his chest, but he had a new purpose now. His cousin was hidden safely, for the moment.

The castle grounds had become a hellscape. The MacNab soldiers were relentless, and their numbers overwhelming. Ruaridh moved with deadly precision, his sword cutting through enemy after enemy. But still, no matter how many they felled, more seemed to take their place.

“Duncan!” Ruaridh called out, scanning the battlefield for his ally. The two of them had been cutting through the MacNab lines together, but now they were separated in the chaos.

“Here!” Duncan’s voice rang out, and Ruaridh made his way toward him. They met in a brief but deadly moment of coordination, fighting back to back once more.

“We need tae push them back!” Ruaridh yelled over the din of battle.

Duncan nodded, his blade flashing through the air, felling two enemies in quick succession. They moved as one, their blades striking with deadly precision. A surge of energy flowed between them, a rhythm that cut through the MacNab forces with relentless force.

But still, the numbers kept coming.

The roar of the battle reached a new crescendo as more soldiers climbed over the castle walls. Ruaridh’s eyes flickered to the gates, where a fresh wave of MacNab warriors surged forward, their weapons raised high.

“Reinforcements, Duncan!” Ruaridh shouted. “Hold the line!”

The two men continued to fight, carving through enemies as they moved through the chaos. Blood splattered across Ruaridh’s face, but he didn’t pause. Every swing of his sword, every parry, was focused on survival. Their survival.

But the tide of battle was shifting.

The horn sounded in the distance. It was a call for reinforcements. A faint hope flickered in Ruaridh’s chest. His allies were coming. But would it be enough?

“Hold them back!” Ruaridh called out, his voice fierce. “We’ve got this!”

The MacNab forces faltered for a moment, their attention momentarily diverted. It was just the window they needed. Ruaridh, Duncan, and the MacDuff men surged forward, pressing against the retreating forces.

But Ruaridh knew—it wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.