She didn’t have long to think, though. Just a few seconds later, a rider appeared in front of them. On instinct, Amelia stopped her mount once more. The animal snorted beneath her but obeyed. She shuffled on her hooves, doing nothing to hide her desire to get out of the area.
The thought barely registered in her head; all of her senses were onwhowas sitting atop the stallion in front of her.
Silver hair, windswept and wild from a nervous hand being run through it—the only giveaway that anything was amiss—glowed in the ambient light. Icy silver eyes were fixed on her. It was as though he were memorizing each and every move she made.
Amelia’s entire body turned to stone. She was sure that her heart stopped beating. In a desperate attempt to change her reality, she squeezed her eyelids shut. But when she opened them, he was still there, unmoving, his gaze boring into her.
What was most unsettling to her wasn’t that he’d appeared without her noticing his approach. It was that he wasn’t looking at her as if she were his daughter. Instead, the expression on his face told Amelia that she was nothing more than something he’d mislaid that he was now inconvenienced by having to retrieve.
“Father,” she squeaked, though she was much too far away from him to be heard.
Finally, Alistair began to approach her. His horse moved with a victorious dignity that made her feel small. With a satisfaction that made her sick and froze her in place, he looked her over.
Like he’s checkin’ his product for damage.
“There ye are,” he said, his dismissive, holier-than-thou voice snapping her out of her stupor.
Her entire body tightening defensively, Amelia pulled her mare back a few steps. Fear and fury twisted together in her chest and her gut. Disgust took hold of her features as she snarled, “Ye’ve nay claim over me.”
Her father’s mouth curved faintly as he brought himself even closer, closing the distance between them. She cursed herself for being unable to turn herself around and run. Even if he caught her, it would be so much better than letting him walk up and take her.
“I have every claim,” he said, stopping several paces away from Amelia.
She watched him, her breath caught in her throat. Her brain begged her to run, but she was stuck. The horse beneath her was obediently staying put because Amelia had asked.
It felt as if the world slowed down as Alistair dismounted his horse. The action was smooth, practiced. Her chest jerked, her heel flailed, but she couldn’t get purchase, couldn’t tell her horse to listen to her instincts and run.
Even if she had complete control of herself, she didn’t think that she’d be able to dodge the way he was coming at her. An open palm flew forward, connecting with her cheek and sending a deafening smack echoing off the trees. Reflexively, her hands on the reins relaxed.
She scrambled to keep her grip, but her father moved faster than she. Before she had time to think, the leather was yanked away from her reach. As she surged forward in an attempt to regain control, a strong, unkind hand caught her wrists.
Pain bloomed in the places that her old wounds had just healed. Gritting her teeth, she exhaled sharply and tried to break away. He was stronger than her, though. His footing was so much more solid. Amelia never stood a chance, and she knew it.
Alistair pulled her out of the saddle as though she weighed nothing. She clung to the leather, to the smooth surface of the mare’s hair. Nothing she did changed her reality, though.
Her body met the ground with a sickening crunch, all of the air leaving her lungs. Her ribs, despite being bandaged tightly, screamed in protest. The pain that shot through her stole her breath and her ability to do anything except desperately attempt to keep herself alive.
Even as her father pinned her in place with a knee against her spine, Amelia flailed. Her palms ran through dead leaves and broken twigs. A pebble lodged itself beneath her nail, digging deeper with each desperate attempt to get out from beneath him.
Laird Mackenzie didn’t even react to her attempts to break free. She couldn’t see him, her vision filled with the litter on the forest floor. That didn’t mean she didn’t know the exact blood-chilling expression that he was wearing. She didn’t have to look at him to know that he was watching her the same way that he might observe an unruly toddler.
“Just as I remember ye,” he drawled, gathering both of her wrists.
The bones that sat just where her hands began, that had finally been getting the padding that came with being well-fed, ground against each other ruthlessly. Amelia let out a strained, high-pitched cry as she struggled against his hold. All she wanted was for the pain to stop; escape was secondary to the pressure on her already-sore old injuries. It was nearly too much to bear.
Relief didn’t come in the form of being released but in a length of rope that was somehow more forgiving than the touch of her father. With the kind of quickness and practiced ease that made Amelia’s stomach turn, he tied her wrists behind her back. He dropped her hands but didn’t move away.
Instead, he seemed to derive some sick sense of amusement from watching her struggle. She lost track of how long she fought against his knee and the dirt. It wasn’t until she heard othersapproaching, the same cavalry she had been trying to escape, that his weight shifted, allowing her to draw in deeper breaths.
Her entire body shook, but she knew that fear wasn’t the culprit. The anger inside her roiled, becoming too big for her frame. If only she were stronger, if only she could doanything.
“I wondered whether Fraser would keep ye hidden longer,” he said mildly, his cool patience only making her anger flare even hotter. “I had a feelin’ ever since I heard rumors of a girl found in that tower…”
She turned then, using the extra bit of mobility his shift had granted. He was staring down at her as if she were nothing more than vermin. Without looking away from her, Alistair gestured for his men to stay atop their mounts.
With a roughness she was no longer accustomed to, her father yanked her to her feet. She stumbled, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. These men would not see weakness in her. She hadn’t been weak in a long time.
“Come along, daughter,” he said, finally taking his eyes off of her to look at his men. “We have business to finish.”
