Caught By the Highland Devil (Lasses of the Highland Hunt #4)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

“Ye cannae hide forever!”

“Yer head start has already run out!” another voice called out a taunt, something low and meant to demean. Flora couldn’t bring herself to focus on the words, only the proximity. They were closing in on her, and if she didn’t move now, they’d catch her.

“We already caught ye all once!” another exclaimed, stomping through the dirt. “Ye really think ye’ll get away this time?”

The ground crunched beneath her feet. She’d never run so hard in her life, and still, she pressed her body to run harder. The stitch in her side screamed at her, yet her survival instincts screamed louder.

She wouldn’t die in the woods, nor would she get captured here. She knew with certainty that the fate if she were caught would be much worse than death.

Men yelled somewhere behind her, their voices chillingly close, closer than she thought they’d be.

She’d lost sight of the other women almost immediately upon being released.

If she were stronger and faster, Flora would find them and help them.

She wanted to find them and help them. They’d be more effective against their pursuers if they worked together.

But she hadn’t thought about that before the hunt began, and now, she was begging her body not to give out as she scurried over the detritus.

I cannae do this much longer. I cannae.

Yet, even with that thought bouncing around in her mind, she ran even harder. When she heard a wild whoop from her left, she ducked behind a large, felled tree. As soon as her knees hit the ground and she tucked her head behind the gnarled bark, she heard the man stomping by.

Flora allowed herself several minutes to catch her breath.

She knew that it could be an incredibly stupid decision on her part, but if she didn’t, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep going.

While she didn’t have a fully formed plan to escape, there was no way to outrun them if she couldn’t breathe.

Another man came by, moving slowly, almost as if he knew that she was somewhere nearby. Her breath caught, her lungs burning as they begged for more air. She forced herself to remain quiet, willing her body to work with her.

Please daenae see me. Please daenae see me.

She’d be lucky to get out of this with her life, but if she did, word would get out. Everyone would know that she’d been hunted. No one would want her around. She’d be ruined, even more isolated than she was before she’d been shoved into this situation.

Finally, the man passed her hiding spot. Her chest heaved, and her head spun as air flooded her system again. The second the edges of her vision were no longer black, she stood, ready to run again.

“Nay, there wasnae one this way,” one of the hunters called, his voice echoing off the trunks of the trees. He was close, but she couldn’t pinpoint his exact location.

“Ye’re blind!” another yelled back, laughing as though they were playing a game. She supposed that to them, that’s what this was. “I daenae think ye checked well enough.”

“Waste yer time lookin’ there, then,” the first called, his voice fading as he seemingly walked in the opposite direction. “Ye’ll have me pity when ye’re the only one that doesn’t find a wee lass.”

Flora froze, her eyes darting around her surroundings. Her pursuers, the men participating in the hunt, weren’t in her line of sight, but it wouldn’t be long until they circled back to find her. That much was clear from the conversation they weren’t bothering to hide.

Why would they need to hide? They’re lairds. They willnae be reprimanded for this.

“Ach, ye daenae even ken what ye’d do with the lass ye catch,” the second said. “At least I have plans for the wee thing.”

She ran again as soon as she thought it was safe, this time in the direction that she’d come from. If the men thought she and the others were going deeper into the forest, then she’d be safer if she tried to exit. It was a desperate gamble, but she wasn’t stupid.

Bending down without thinking too hard about her reasoning, she grabbed a rock. Then, she took off running. The weight of the stone in her hand was solid and almost comforting. It was a lifeline, the only defense she had against the cavalry that was coming for her.

There was less cover as she moved, and it was too late when she realized that she’d made a mistake.

She was exposed with nothing to duck behind.

If any of those lairds, those monsters, came toward her, she wouldn’t be able to hide.

The rock in her hand, while it was better than nothing, wouldn’t do much more than buy her a few minutes.

And that was if she was able to land a solid hit on her captor, which was something she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to do.

I cannae let meself be caught nor seen. I have to get as far away from here as possible.

As she continued to move, branches broke behind her. Her heart pounded as her hand tightened around the stone. She looked everywhere, desperate for somewhere to tuck herself away. It seemed that luck was smiling upon her for the first time in a long time.

There was a boulder, not too far from her.

She took off toward it, her only weapon clutched against her chest. As she sank down behind it, she sent up a prayer, begging for someone, anyone to save her.

She didn’t think she’d be able to save herself, not when she was so weak, not when her opponent was so strong.

Lucas dug his heels into the side of his stallion, the beast’s hooves eating up the ground beneath them. He was racing against the clock. The information he’d received said the hunt was happening today. He’d run out of time to get the women out before it started.

“Only the Lord kens what they’ve been doin’ to those poor girls,” he growled to himself, the thoughts refusing to be silenced as he pushed himself to go faster.

Instead of thinking, he pushed forward. The clearing was ahead, the place where they’d released the girls to chase them. He had backup coming, enough to take out this operation, but he refused to wait for them to catch up. He’d pulled ahead the second they left Castle McGowan.

As soon as he reached the clearing, he saw it. A man, a laird in name but not in principles, stalking around a boulder. There was a knife in his hand, a predatory curve to his shoulders. The sight of him made Lucas sick.

Then, he saw what he was looking at. A shaking form that was backing away from him. She was tiny both in stature and from hunger, her long black hair catching the sunlight as she hoisted a stone in front of her. Her fear was palpable, even from a distance.

Lucas threw himself off of his horse, his hand already moving to the hilt of his sword. The man didn’t seem to sense that Lucas was running toward him, his eyes locked on the girl in front of him. Or maybe the man did sense Lucas’s presence. Maybe he didn’t think he was doing a damn thing wrong.

Men like him never think that they’re doin’ anythin’ wrong.

“Get away from me!” the woman cried. Her voice was shaky with fear and rage. “Now!”

“Nay, lassie,” the man said with a devious laugh, continuing to approach her. “Ye’re mine now. Ye cannae escape. Ye’re nae goin’ to be able to do anythin’ to me.”

Then, the girl struck. She lifted the rock above her head and brought it down on her attacker’s skull.

It fell from her hands, the force of the blow too much for her to maintain her grip, hitting the ground with a dull thud and rolling away.

She took one step back, then two. This close, Lucas could see her irises, black pools that reflected the light like polished stone.

“Ye…” the man growled, a hand flying up to where she’d hit him. Blood dripped down his face, coating his fingers when he pulled it away from the wound. “I’ll make ye regret ever doin’ that, lass. Do ye have any idea who ye’re messin’ with? I daenae play games.”

He cursed under his breath, wiping blood from his eyes. The girl—the bonnie, frightened thing—continued to back up, though it seemed that she couldn’t bring herself to run. Maybe she’d expended the last of her energy with her attack.

As the man coiled himself, prepared to surge forward with the knife, the sun glinting off its blade, as he raised it, Lucas pushed himself to go faster.

Before the man could lunge forward and attack, Lucas grabbed his wrist. He felt bone crunch beneath his fingers and heard the loud, gritting sound of pain tearing itself from the man’s chest.

“I wouldnae do that if I were ye,” Lucas said darkly, spinning the man toward him.

The man’s eyes were fire, his lip curled up in a hateful snarl.

He struggled against Lucas’s hold, but Lucas wouldn’t let him go.

No—men who hurt women, men who think they’re nothing more than something to play with, something to let loose and chase and force into slavery when they’re caught…

Lucas wouldn’t let them get away with it.

“I bet ye thought nay one would find out about yer little game, didn’t ye?” Lucas growled. “But ye’re nae untouchable. Just because ye’re a laird doesnae mean ye get to do whatever ye please.”

The girl made a noise, something in the back of her throat. Lucas couldn’t tell if it was fear or relief or a mixture of both. He felt her eyes on them, those wide, dark pools trying to figure out if she should keep running or if she should stay close.

Ach, ye daenae need to run anymore, wee lass. Not when I’m around. I willnae let another man lay a filthy paw on ye.

“And who are ye?” the man spat, trying and failing to wrench his injured hand away. “Who are ye to come and interrupt the hunt?”

“I’m Laird McGowan. And I will personally ensure that ye go through everythin’ ye’ve put these women through before I kill ye meself.”