Taken by the Heartless Highlander (Falling for Highland Villains #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

“Burn the witch!”

Keira stumbled, her hands colliding with the rotting bark of a fallen oak tree that lay across her path.

Her labored breathing puffed out in roiling clouds as she panted into the chilly evening air. Her limbs screamed at her to slow down, but if she stopped running, they would catch her.

“Where did she go? She cannae be far, keep lookin’!”

The echoes of the villagers’ shouts floated above her on the wind in terrifying echoes.

Please let there be a place to hide, she thought desperately; please let me live!

The trees in this part of the forest were thick and dense. Keira had traveled here alone many times to collect mushrooms for her work. Previously, she would have said it was one of her favorite places to come, but no more.

She felt brambles and branches catching at her legs as she dashed through the thick bracken and undergrowth—she had to keep moving, no matter what.

“I saw somethin’ ahead,” someone shouted behind her, “that way!”

Glancing back, she could just see the lighted torches bobbing among the trees and the shadowy shapes advancing on her.

They cannae catch ye in the dark; nay torch can see high enough into the trees. Find somethin’ to climb—get high, dinnae move, stay silent.

The chill in the air bit at her as sweat poured down her back. She was not sure how long they had been pursuing her, but her body could not continue like this forever. She had to find somewhere to conceal herself.

She was unfamiliar with this area of the forest and not used to running at pace between the trees. It felt as though a thousand cobwebs had tangled in her hair.

“Fan out, dinnae let her escape!”

The tramp of the footsteps behind her seemed closer than ever as she waded through a particularly thick patch of ferns and headed toward a tiny clearing ahead of her.

She heard a shout as she approached the clearing, her head whipping around to see if they had seen her, and her foot caught fast in a tree root.

She put out an arm as she tumbled forward, falling against something solid, tall, and unmoving. She thought it was a tree until it grunted in surprise.

She ended up on the floor, the dried leaves beneath her palms, slimy and cold, as she looked up into the face of a man looming over her, his hands on his hips as he gazed down at her.

She stared at him in bewilderment. She had never met anyone in the woods before, and certainly not this late in the evening. He did not look like a bandit or a murderer, but one never could tell.

After all, I trusted a man because he was a priest, and now he is chasin’ me through the woods to burn me alive.

The man she had collided with was still staring at her, his mouth a hard line as his eyes ran over her tattered clothes and muddy dress. He had broad shoulders that blocked out the waning light filtering through the canopy and green eyes that almost perfectly matched the leaves above his head.

She had only seconds to observe his dark hair and the size of his bulging shoulders before she pulled herself backward and scrambled to her feet.

“I apologize, I dinnae see ye,” she said quickly, ready to turn and sprint away into the forest once more.

But the stranger was not looking at her any longer. He had turned at the sounds of the villagers and was watching their approach. Keira could see Lucas at their head, his cruel face twisted with fury. The torches grew ever closer in the gathering gloom.

Keira felt terror whip through her as she took a step back, determined to continue her escape. But, without looking at her, the stranger’s large hand flicked out and took hold of her wrist in a grip of iron. “Not so fast, lass,” he said, his voice low and gruff. He still had his back to her, and Keira found his disinterest in her predicament rather rude.

She yanked hard at her wrist, which finally got his attention. He appeared startled by her strength, but it was nothing compared to his. He barely moved more than half an inch as she tried to rip her arm from his grip.

“Please, ye have to let me go,” she said, wild with fear as she looked at the approaching crowd behind him.

“Do ye wish me to kill these for ye?” he asked, nodding at the approaching crowd, casual and calm in the face of her pursuers.

He was extremely tall and broad. He looked like someone who could fell a man with a single hit. Yet he had long, elegant features that seemed at odds with the brawn on full display across his body. His eyes moved over her figure again, taking in her battered appearance. Keira felt an absurd urge to run her fingers through her hair to smooth it.

She tried again to pull herself free. “Please let me go, they’ll kill me!”

His frown deepened considerably at her words, and he straightened to his full height.

She swallowed, tugging at him again as she brought her other hand up and tried to prize his fingers from her wrist one by one.

He looked down at her, puzzled, as she failed to move his fingers one millimeter.

“What are ye tryin’ to do?” he asked, sounding bewildered.

“Let me go!” she hissed.

“I am nae goin’ to let them kill ye, lass.”

The quiet authority in that dark voice made a quiver run up her spine, yet she scoffed derisively at him. She never ceased to be astonished by the arrogance of men.

“Och? And just how and why would ye do that for a woman ye daenae ken? Ye daenae even ken what they have accused me of. I might have murdered all of their children.”

“Ye have done that without a drop of blood spilled if that’s the case.” His eyes roamed over her again. “Unless they were children made of mud. Do ye live in the forest, is that it? Are they plannin’ to catch a Selkie?” he asked.

Keeping her eyes on the approaching villagers, she tutted under her breath. “Selkies live in the sea,” she muttered scathingly, giving a fresh tug at his hand.

“Ye must be the Bean Nighe, then.”

Keira ’s mouth fell open in shock. “The Bean Nighe is a hag,” she spluttered.

“Aye,” he said with apparent enjoyment, “ye have twigs in yer hair. So it’s a good start.”

She wrenched against him again in outrage and managed to free her wrist with a small cry of victory. Useless, however, as without any effort he merely caught it with the other hand and kept her held tight to him.

“Ye willnae outrun them now, lass; ye might as well wait and see what I can do for ye,” he muttered.

“Ye will do nothin’ but get me killed,” she protested, dropping her body to the ground as her brother used to do when he was a bairn and didn’t wish to go to bed. She used all of her weight to try and dislodge his feet from the ground.

He looked back at her as though she were a mouse that was trying to pull him over.

“Will ye stop that? Ye’ll hurt yerself.”

She huffed a breath as he jerked her almost off her feet and into his side. Her whole body fell into his as she felt the muscular wall of his chest, her palms splayed across it, a spark leaping up between them like a candle in the dark.

Flustered, she pushed away from him. He still held her wrist, but more loosely now, as though he knew she would not try and escape again.

Her heart was racing, sweat dripping down her back as she watched the torches come ever closer. There was nothing for it now; she would have to face them—these people who had once valued her as their healer and who now wanted her dead.

Her companion was a center of calm as they waited, barely moving. His breath was steady and sure; the hand on her wrist tight but somehow comforting, as though he were protecting her as much as keeping her with him.

The priest was first into the clearing. Lucas stood at the head of the crowd, his sharp features twisted into a scowl.

The torchlight was visible behind his head, like a strange echo of a halo, and his priest’s garb made him appear as an avenging angel coming to destroy all the sins of the world.

Keira swallowed. Her protector might wish to help her now, but Lucas could be very convincing. This stranger had no reason to trust her. This could all be over very quickly.

She felt fear flood through her anew as Lucas’s ice-blue eyes settled on her, even as they widened in shock at the appearance of the stranger suddenly standing in their midst.

As her captor's grip loosened a little more, she made one last desperate attempt to run. She gave a cry of triumph as she broke free and threw all her weight forward as she darted toward the trees.

She made it to the other side of the clearing, ready to dive into the blackness of the forest, when her ankle turned in a rabbit hole. In a flurry of movement, she tumbled awkwardly to the floor with a cry of alarm.

Something hard came up to meet her through the blanket of ferns, and she felt a jarring, sharp knock on the side of her head.

Wonderful , she thought bitterly as pain seared through her head; not only are ye goin’ to be burned at the stake, ye have cracked yer skull open for good measure.

She opened her eyes blearily, a hazy light all around her looking across the clearing, squinting as best she could at the dark shapes of the stranger and Lucas’s willowy figure.

The stranger was watching Keira, looking particularly unimpressed with her behavior but the concern on his face faded as he saw her eyes were open. He turned back to the assembled crowd.

“What are ye doin’ on me lands?” he demanded, his voice booming out over the silent woods.

The images in front of her began to fade, tendrils of black spreading across her vision.

As her mind gave up the fight, she only had one thought in her head.

Who is that man, and why did he say these were ‘his’ lands?