Chapter 26

26

T he stone walls of the dungeons were damp with condensation, the air thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and despair. Hunter paced in front of the bound captives. One of them was slumped over, his jaw slack, and the other’s lip was split and his eyes were swollen.

Hunter leaned in close, his voice deadly and low. “Ye think I’ll let ye waste more of me time? Every moment ye stall, ye are gamblin’ with yer lives. I’ll ask one more time—where is she?”

The shorter man flinched, refusing to meet his gaze. “I-I dinnae ken what ye are talkin’ about?—”

Hunter slammed his fist into his face once, twice. The sound echoed like a crack of thunder. “Dinnae lie to me! Do ye take me for a fool? Speak, or I’ll make ye beg for a swift end.”

The prisoner whimpered, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Hunter’s fury. Blood gushed from his nose, pooling on the floor, but he remained silent.

Calvin stood at the edge of the cell, his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze sharp. “He’s too afraid to talk to ye, Me LaIrd. Might be time to… let me persuade him with a different technique.”

Hunter shot him a look and nodded. “Aye, hold him.”

Calvin and Alaric stepped forward, their grips like iron as they pinned the man’s shoulders and legs, rooting him to the soiled spot he sat in. The man struggled, his cries muffled by the leather gag that was shoved into his mouth.

Hunter leaned down again, his voice colder than ice. “Ye have one last chance before I show ye just how far I’ll go to get me kin back.”

His eyes landed on the other captive, who frantically crawled away from him and whimpered. He knew he would be next.

“Ye too—ye are next, ye hear?” Hunter growled, and the man flinched.

In front of him, the shorter man bucked and squirmed, trying to speak through the gag.

Calvin pulled it free, and the man gasped, his voice hoarse. “Ye… Ye’ve probably received the last letter.”

Everyone in the room froze. Hunter’s heart hammered in his ears. “What did ye say?”

“A-Another letter. It—It explains everythin’,” the captive stammered, shrinking under his glare.

Hunter straightened abruptly and turned to Calvin. “We’re done here. Have the other ready to talk, but I have nay further use for this man.”

Alaric furrowed his brow as he and Calvin straightened as well. “Ye ken he’s tellin’ the truth?”

“I’ll ken it soon enough.” Hunter’s voice was clipped as she strode toward the door.

His boots clicked against the stone floor as he made his way back to the castle. Each strike echoed in the empty corridor, a rhythm that mirrored his racing thoughts.

The sharp tang of the air in the dungeons still clung to him—the metallic scent of blood and the acrid stench of sweat and fear. It lingered in his nostrils like a phantom, fueling the fire that roared deep within his chest.

Unfeelingly, he stepped over the threshold and inhaled the evening air, waiting for Calvin and Alaric to join him. They emerged from the dungeons moments later, and a brief nod from Calvin confirmed that the captive had been taken care of.

Another letter , the captive had said.

The words echoed in Hunter’s mind, carrying both promise and dread. If the prisoner wasn’t lying, then answers awaited him. Though which answers, he was unsure. What he did know was that every wasted second felt like a betrayal to Erica, to Lily—every step up the spiral staircase a mile too long.

As they ascended toward the main keep, he clenched his jaw tighter. His knuckles were bloodied, the raw skin stinging with every brush of his hand against the stone wall. The pain was a welcome feeling, one he thought he deserved—it kept him focused on his purpose.

What would she think of me now?

He rounded the corner and stepped into his study. The force he used to open the door caused it to slam against the wall with a boom.

The room was dimly lit, but there was enough light to cast shadows over his desk and illuminate the folded letters on his desk.

“Here,” he said over his shoulder to his men as he strode over to the desk and handed them the first letter—Kara’s letter.

Calvin stepped forward and lifted the parchment to his face to read it aloud.

Laird MacKinnon,

I beg your forgiveness, though I know I don’t deserve it. What I have done cannot be undone, but I must tell you the truth if only to lighten the weight of my sins. Mister James Morris took my brother. He threatened to kill him if I did not help him. I never thought he would harm Her Ladyship—he promised he only wanted to scare her and make her see reason and come to him willingly. I was a fool to believe him.

The flowers, the necklace, the dress—they were his gifts to her. He made me deliver them to confuse her, to sow doubt. I thought it would end there. But then he came for her. I did not know he would go so far. Please believe me—I would never harm her. He still has my brother.

I am at your mercy, My Laird. Whatever punishment you see fit, I will accept it. I just ask that you save my brother, and save her.

Kara Knox.

Hunter’s eyes met Calvin’s, and he recalled him saying that Kara might be a party to the disturbances around the lands.

“Kara,” Calvin said.

“Kara, indeed. Ye were right,” Hunter sighed.

“It’s nae really Kara, though. It’s James Morris… Is that Clan O’Farlane’s heir?” Alaric asked.

“Nay, he’s the second son,” Hunter corrected.

“And he lost to the Laird at the McFair games.”

Alaric seemed to connect the dots and nodded his head slowly. “And the second letter, Me Laird? What does it say?”

Hunter didn’t speak. Instead, he lifted the second letter, letting them read its contents. Calvin’s expression darkened as he read the simple, venomous line.

We are at the lake where ye defiled her in the dress I bought for her.

Alaric and Calvin exchanged a look, and then Calvin spoke, “He’s tauntin’ ye.”

Hunter’s eyes flashed with a mix of fury and guilt as he stared at the crumpled letters. “Aye,” he said, his voice raw. “And he’ll regret it.”

He turned on his heel, pulling his riding cape around him as he strode toward the door. “Ready the horses,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We ride for the lake.”

As Calvin and Alaric rushed out, Hunter stalked through the corridors, his thoughts returning to Kara’s letter, each line burning deeper into his mind. He had known her as Erica’s maid—a quiet, unassuming girl who had always seemed fiercely loyal. The betrayal, no matter what the driving force behind it was, was a deep wound. Yet, oddly enough, her fear had cut him deep. He could sense it in her words—the desperation of a woman and sister caught in an impossible situation.

James had taken her braither for Christ kenned how long. Used her, manipulated her… Can I forgive that? Can Erica forgive her?

He already knew that Erica would forgive her maid.

“Where ye defiled her in the dress I bought for her,” he mumbled with each step.

The memory of that night flashed through his mind—Erica in his arms, the moonlight casting the most delicious shadows on her skin, her soft gasps as he thrust into her. And then he remembered that she had said she thought someone was watching them.

Hunter balled his fists at his sides. “Defiled,” he spat out. “He watched us and then stalked us back to the castle. He will pay for it.”

As he neared the stables, his men were already preparing for the ride.

Calvin handed him the reins of his horse, his expression grim but resolute. “Their mounts are still here. They didnae take them out,” he said, eliminating that scenario before Hunter could even think about it.

“We’re ready, Me Laird. After ye,” Alaric called.

Hunter nodded, his gaze hard. “Aye, let’s go,” he said as he mounted his horse.

The weight of Kara’s confession and the venom in James’s words drove him forward.

I’m comin’.

The night air was cold, and it seeped through Hunter’s tunic as he paused for a heartbeat, staring at the faint trail that led away from the lake and deeper into the woods. His chest heaved, not from exertion, but from the rage and fear that roiled inside him.

Erica’s words echoed in his mind. “She traded herself for us.”

The thought was unbearable. His fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as if the pain could somehow ground him. Her recklessness and self-sacrifice complex infuriated him even more. Her heart was as bold as it was stubborn. She, of course, would do anything to protect Lily and the boy—anything.

“Are ye Kara’s braither?” Hunter asked the boy whose arms were wrapped tightly around Lily.

The shed they were in did very little to keep out the cold, and they were both shivering. It looked like the young boy even gave Lily his overcoat, for he was just in his tunic.

“Aye,” the boy said quickly, his face puffy but fierce. “Who are ye?”

“That’s me uncle Hunter,” Lily said through chattering teeth.

“Good, ye have some fight in ye. Ye will be needin’ it tonight, laddie,” Hunter said as Cavin’s hand rested on the boy’s shoulder. “Alaric, Calvin, take them back to the castle. Make sure they’re fed and warmed.”

“Aye,” the men responded, lifting both children off the ground with ease and hoisting them up onto their horses.

Calvin hesitated, his expression a mix of concern and defiance. “If Morris?—”

Hunter cut him off with a sharp glare. “I’ll nae risk her safety again. I only trust ye two. Get them back to safety.”

Calvin’s jaw tightened, but he gave a curt nod. “Aye, Me Laird. I’m leavin’ Angus and Ewan with ye.”

Lily tilted up her tear-stained face to meet her uncle’s gaze. Her small hand gripped the boy’s tightly, her knuckles white with fear. “Ye will save Aunt Erica, right, Uncle Hunter?” she whispered, her voice quivering. “Even though ye were mad at her before?”

Hunter went to her, his large hands resting gently on her back. “I will, lass. I swear it. Now, go with Calvin. Be brave for me, just like yer faither would have been.”

Lily nodded, her lower lip trembling as Calvin and Alaric led the horses away.

With one final nod, Hunter watched his men ride back to the castle.

The change in him was imperceptible to the naked eye. His shoulders rose to his ears and tensed up, his torso hardened, his ears perked up to catch the slightest sound, and his pupils dilated to see clearer. The wooded lake fell silent.

Ewan and Angus didn’t dare move or even breathe too loud as they watched their Laird take in his surroundings like a predator. The hunt was on.

Hunter pictured Erica’s face—the fire in her deep green eyes, the stubborn set of her jaw.

“Ye will come for me. I trust ye.”

“Damn,” he mouthed.

A sound broke through his thoughts just then—a faint rustle up ahead. Hunter froze, and then all three men turned to the sound, lowering themselves into a predatory crouch. His hand felt for the hilt of his blade, the cold steel reassuring against his palm. He scanned the darkness, his keen eyes adjusting to the shadows.

Then, he saw it—a shadow moving through the trees.

Of course, ye couldnae miss the show.

The shrouded figure was moving stealthily but not carefully enough. And the three of them crept forward, each step calculated and deadly silent.

The man didn’t even hear him coming.

In one fluid motion, Hunter had his arm around the intruder’s throat, his dagger pressed against the man’s side. “Make a sound, and it will be yer last,” he hissed.

The man stiffened, his breath hitching. “Me L-Laird, please. I was only?—”

Hunter tightened his grip. “Where is he? Where is James Morris?”

“I dinnae ken!” the man stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “He didnae tell me—he just said to stand here and watch.”

Hunter’s blade tore the fabric of the man’s tunic and pressed against a soft spot between his ribs. “Wrong answer.”

“Wait! Wait!” the man gasped, his voice frantic. “He’s further ahead! At the huntin’ cabin near the ridge! That’s all I ken, I swear!”

Hunter released him with a shove, and the man collapsed to the ground in a heap. “Run,” he growled. “And pray that I dinnae see ye again.”

The man scrambled to his feet and disappeared into the darkness, his panicked footsteps fading quickly.

Hunter tilted his head slightly toward Ewan, who then took off after the fleeing man.

Angus took on a different position as their hunting party was reduced to just the two of them. Hunter looked at him, and Angus, who was most familiar with the ridge, led the way.