Chapter 3 #2
Despite everything, she saw his mouth twitch toward a smile. "Noted."
"I'm serious."
"I ken ye are." And there was something in his eyes—respect, maybe—that made her believe he actually did understand. That he saw the steel in her spine despite everything that had happened. "Come on. Me scout is waitin' with the horses."
He turned to head back the way they'd come, then paused when he realized she wasn’t following.
Mhairi stood frozen, arms still wrapped around herself. Now that the immediate danger had passed, now that she'd made her decision, everything was crashing down on her at once.
Her father had sold her. Her own father. And her sister—sweet, young Isobel—would be next.
"Mhairi?"
She drew in a shaky breath. "I just... I just need a moment."
"Take all the time ye need." Alpin leaned against a nearby tree, giving her space but staying close enough to protect her if anything came through the underbrush. "We're in no rush."
Mhairi nodded jerkily, then sank down onto a fallen log. Her hands were shaking—she could see it even in the dim light. Shock, probably. The kind that set in after the danger had passed.
She wanted to cry, to scream. Wanted to run back to that auction house and claw Graham's eyes out, then ride home and do the same to her father.
But she couldn’t do any of those things.
So she just sat. And breathed. And tried to piece herself back together.
After a few minutes, her breathing steadied. The shaking eased. She stood, brushed off her skirts, torn and filthy from the night's events, and lifted her chin.
She was Mhairi Munro. And she wasn’t broken yet.
"All right," she said. "I'm ready."
Alpin pushed away from the tree. "This way."
He led her back through the forest, taking a slightly different path than the one she'd run. When they reached a small clearing, Mhairi saw another man waiting with three horses and some other men further back that looked like guards.
The man's eyes flicked to her, then to Alpin. "Me laird. Is she—"
"She's comin' with us, Callum," Alpin said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Back to the castle."
"Aye, me laird." The scout—Callum, she heard Alpin call him—didnae question it. Just nodded and moved to ready the horses.
Mhairi watched him work, wary. But he didn’t look at her the way the men at the auction had. Didn’t leer or smirk.
There were three horses tethered in the clearing—Alpin's bay stallion, Callum's roan, and a smaller grey mare.
"Can ye ride?" Alpin asked.
"Aye." Mhairi approached the smallest of the horses cautiously. "But... why dae ye have three horses?"
"We brought a spare in case we had tae move quickly, so we could rest a horse if necessary," Alpin explained. "Standard practice when scoutin' unknown territory. One can always follow without the weight of a rider. Lucky fer ye, it means ye dinnae have tae ride double with one of us."
The mare was pretty, with a gentle eye. Mhairi reached out slowly, letting the animal sniff her hand before stroking her soft nose.
The mare nickered, warm breath puffing against her palm, and something in Mhairi's chest eased. Animals were honest. Trustworthy in a way people could never be.
"What's her name?"
"Mist. She's gentle." Alpin was watching her with an odd expression. "Ye're good with horses."
" I used tae ride every day." The words came out soft, almost wistful. "Before."
Before her father had sold her. Before her entire world had shattered.
Alpin's expression darkened, but he didn’t push. Just asked quietly, "Ready?"
Mhairi nodded. When he moved to help her mount, she tensed instinctively—but his hands were careful, impersonal. Helping her up and then stepping away immediately.
Her hands shook slightly as she gathered the reins, but her seat was solid. Years of riding had made it second nature.
"We'll ride through the night and most of tomorrow," Alpin explained, mounting his own horse. "There's an inn about halfway where we can rest fer a few hours. After that, straight through tae MacDougal lands."
"And if Ashcombe follows?" The question came out steadier than she felt.
Alpin's eyes met hers, and there was something fierce and protective in them that made her breath catch. "Then I'll kill him. I let him go once, but willnae make that mistake twice if he comes back fer ye."
Mhairi believed him.
They rode out, leaving the clearing and the nightmare behind them. Alpin positioned himself on one side of her, Callum on the other, protecting her. She kept her spine straight despite her exhaustion, refusing to show weakness.
But as the miles passed and the stars wheeled overhead, she found herself relaxing slightly. The steady rhythm of Mist's gait, the quiet jingle of tack. The knowledge that for the first time since that nightmare had begun, she wasn’t alone.
She glanced sideways at Alpin. He was watching the road ahead, alert for danger. But every few minutes, his gaze would flick to her—checking on her, she realized. Making sure she was all right.
When had anyone last done that? When had anyone cared whether she was all right?
Mhairi quickly looked away, focusing on the path ahead. She didn’t know what waited for her at MacDougal Castle. Didn’t know if she could truly trust Alpin's promises.
But for that night, she had a choice. She had her freedom. And she had a man who'd risked his life to give it back to her.