The wind howled through the cracks in the door, carrying with it the faint sound of hooves.
The door whipped open.
Wind and rain hit the room before he did. Then Robert filled the frame, soaked through, a blade in his hand.
"Step away from her."
The wind howled through the open door, whipping rain across the floor. The fire guttered low, spitting as cold air rushed in. Mack froze, his shoulders rigid, knife half-drawn.
Scarlett could hardly breathe. Relief and terror collided inside her chest, sharp and dizzying. Robert’s gaze didn’t waver. Every inch of him was carved from fury and restraint, soaked to the skin, mud splattered up his boots. The storm clung to him like a second skin.
“Step away from her,” he said again, quieter this time but no less dangerous.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The storm howled through the shattered doorway, wind scattering rain and leaves across the floorboards. Scarlett flinched as lightning tore open the sky, its flash revealing the madness in Mack’s eyes. His arm locked around her throat, the cold press of steel biting against her skin.
Robert stepped fully into the hut, soaked to the bone, a blade in his hand and a fury in his stance that made the air itself tremble.
Scarlett’s heart thudded painfully. She wanted to cry out, to reach for him, but Mack’s grip only tightened.
Robert’s voice was cold as steel. “Let her go, Mack. Ye daenae want to do this.”
Mack’s laugh broke through the thunder. “Daenae want to? Aye, that’s rich. I warned ye, Robert. Warned ye she should’ve been mine. But ye took it all: the land, the men, the loyalty that was rightfully mine… and now her.” His arm jerked Scarlett closer,the blade grazing her throat. “Ye think she wants ye? A laird too broken to love?”
Scarlett gasped. Robert didn’t move, didn’t blink. Only his voice changed, a softer, deadlier calm that steadied even her fear. “If ye hurt her,” he said, “ye willnae live to see the dawn.”
Then Mack snapped. With a guttural sound, he shoved Scarlett aside. She hit the floor hard, her shoulder slamming against the table’s edge just as steel flashed through the lamplight.
The men collided. Steel rang. Something on the shelf above Scarlett's head crashed to the floor.
She dragged herself backward, her bound wrists scraping raw against splintered wood. She couldn't follow the fight. It moved too fast, too violent, the lantern swinging so wildly the shadows made it worse. What she could see: Mack swinging wide, all desperation. Robert absorbing it, giving ground deliberately, waiting.
The lantern swung violently on its hook, its light slashing across their faces. Blood slicked Robert’s arm where Mack’s blade had grazed him, but he didn’t falter. His expression was grim and set.
“Mack, stop!”
Neither man heard.
Mack lunged again. Robert caught the blow, twisted, and drove him backward into the table. The wood splintered. Dishes shattered. Scarlett scrambled clear as the table crashed to the ground.
“Ye think she’ll stay with a man like ye?” Mack spat, his voice breaking with rage. “She’ll tire of yer orders soon enough!”
Robert said nothing. His answer came in motion, his sword struck clean, knocking the dagger from Mack’s hand and sending it skidding across the floor. Then his fist connected hard with Mack’s jaw. The crack of bone was sharp as thunder.
Mack reeled, blood streaking his chin. For a moment, Scarlett thought it was done.
But Mack lunged again, roaring, grabbing Robert by the tunic and slamming him into the wall. The hut shook under the impact. Rain poured through the roof in sheets.
“Robert!” Scarlett cried.
Robert’s sword arm was trapped. Mack’s hands locked at his throat, pressing hard. “She was never yers!” Mack snarled. “Never!”
Robert’s eyes found Scarlett’s, only for a heartbeat, but it was enough. He shifted, broke Mack’s hold, and with a violent twist, threw him forward. Both men crashed to the ground. A sharp,sickening crack split the air, the sound of something breaking that would never mend.
Then silence.
Only the rain remained.
