Page 125 of Enchantment of a Highlander

He was killing so they could be free.

He was killing for her.

No, she realized, not just for her.

She glanced back at the line of women behind her. They bunched against one another, their lips pressed tight. Many, she noticed, held hands. Their bony fingers curled tightly against one another.

Together they would live or together they would die.

Alec appeared beside her and gave a nod. The air almost hummed with anxiety. It vibrated through Celia too, and she watched Alec’s face with pinpoint intensity, waiting for his signal for them to run.

He nodded and once again, they ran.

The uneven cobblestone gave way to soft, dewy grass. Everywhere around Celia and Alec, the other women sprinted toward their own freedom.

The tree line wasn’t home, but it was an opportunity to hide if chased. It was an opportunity to escape.

Some women moved far more quickly than their starved bodies appeared capable of, running on the will of sheer desperation.

Hope pumped through Celia. It warmed her muscles though her skin was chilled by the unforgiving wind. It kept her legs driving forward when everything shook with heavy exhaustion.

Halfway.

They were halfway across the open field now with the rushing sound of waves breaking against the cliffs to the right.

Celia glanced toward the sound. The soft grass ended abruptly there where the cliffs began and the earth dropped off into the sea.

She would rather throw herself from the edge of the cliff and let her body break against the rocks below than let herself be taken to the dungeon again.

Alec’s hand tightened on hers. He pulled her forward, but her legs could go no faster.

Almost to the tree line where they would be safe.

And then the scrape of trepidation she’d had earlier gave way to a chill of realization.

She understood why Alec had appeared disconcerted, why he was rushing her though they were not being chased.

Leaving the dungeon had been done with little effort. Seeing no guards had been too much of a coincidence. Making it this far out in the open without a shout of alarm was too improbable.

This had all been too easy.

Impossibly easy.

This was a trap.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Alec raced toward the trees with Celia in tow, wondering how much time they truly had.

The women around them were starting to slow despite the carve of determination on their narrow faces.

A woman to his right fell with a small scream. He glanced back and found a band of horses heading toward them.

It was time.

MacDougall was going to attack.

No sooner had the thought entered his mind than the clatter of boots sounded near the open gate behind them.