Page 95 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

CHAPTER 33

“Dae ye think it’ll be much longer?” Iona’s voice was tight, her hands clenched in her lap, betraying the anxiety she couldn’t contain. Her gaze flicked nervously to the narrow door of the stone shelter, her pulse quickening with every passing second.

Niamh sat beside her, unmoving, though her eyes darted to the door every so often. She didn’t answer immediately, her lips pressed tightly together, and the lines of her face hardened in a way that spoke of her own unspoken fears. The sounds of war outside echoed faintly in the distance, and with it came a heavy silence inside the stone shelter that pressed down on Iona’s chest.

The walls around them felt like they were closing in. The castle’s thick stone had been a refuge, but in this moment, it felt like a trap.

“As long as Ruaridh and Alistair need,” Niamh answered quietly, her voice calm but edged with the same tension Iona could feel in the air.

Iona nodded, though her stomach tightened with worry. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what was happening above, but she knew one thing for certain. Nothing would remain the same after this battle.

The hours dragged by tortuously. Iona’s mind raced with thoughts of Ruaridh and the men who were fighting to keep them safe. But the castle was no fortress, and the MacNabs would not relent. She knew that, deep down.

The silence in the room stretched, unbearable and thick. She glanced at Niamh, who was sitting so still it was as though she had become part of the stone wall itself. The older woman’s calmness helped, but only slightly.

Finally, Niamh broke the silence with a low, almost imperceptible sigh. “It’ll be over soon. They willnae keep coming forever.”

But even as she spoke, Iona could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. Both women knew it wasn’t true. The battle outside wasn’t something that would end soon.

Then, just as Iona thought she might lose her mind from the sheer weight of the waiting, the faintest sound reached her ears—footsteps. The unmistakable echo of boots on stone.

Iona’s head snapped to the door, her heart racing. She held her breath, straining to listen.

The footsteps were light but deliberate—too deliberate. She could hear them growing closer, moving toward the stone shelter. Panic fluttered in her chest.

“Dae ye hear that?” Iona whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Niamh’s eyes flicked to her, and the color drained from her face. For a moment, neither of them moved. The soldiers outside the door were coming closer, their steps slow but intentional.

Niamh’s expression hardened. She stood up, moving toward the door with a quiet urgency. “Quiet now,” she murmured.

Iona’s chest tightened, her muscles stiff with dread. She rose too, instinctively moving to stand behind Niamh. Her heart was pounding in her ears now, drowning out everything else.

Niamh placed her ear against the door, her brow furrowing as she listened. Iona’s breathing was shallow, her body frozen with fear. The wait seemed endless. Then, Niamh straightened, her face pale but resolute.

Her eyes were filled with an intensity that Iona couldn’t mistake for anything other than fear. “We must stay hidden. If they find us here, it’s over.”

Iona nodded, but her mind raced, trying to figure out a way out. Her gaze went to the door again, her body trembling despite her efforts to stay calm.

“Save yerselves, me ladies!” shouted a voice from the other side. A man, perhaps one of their guards, his words filled with strained urgency. Iona could barely make out the rest of his sentence as the noise around him grew louder. His voice broke, desperation rising. “Get out while ye can!”

Then, a sickening sound tore through the air—the unmistakable noise of butchering. A sharp cry. A splattering of blood. The guttural sound of a body crumpling under brutal force.

Iona recoiled, her heart pounding in her chest, her throat closing in on her. She knew what had just happened. The guards outside their door were gone. Murdered in cold blood.

The sound echoed in her ears, louder than her own heartbeat. She could barely breathe as the violence unfolded just outside their safe haven.

And then—bang!

The door rattled violently. Iona’s heart stopped.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her hands flying to her mouth to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape. The sound of pounding fists on wood was unmistakable, and Iona's entire body went rigid. They had found them.

Her eyes darted around the small stone shelter, and she realized, in that split second of panic, how exposed they were. The walls were thick, but the wooden door would eventually give in to the men on the other side.

What dae we dae now?

Iona’s mind screamed for answers that weren’t coming.