Page 81 of The Laird who Craved her

"Liar," his voice was barely above a harsh whisper. "Ye are wrong."

"I am nae." Claire insisted.

"He stole everything!" Callum roared. "My father started that war!"

The damning words exploded from Callum before he could stop them. An absolute, horrifying silence crashed over theentire clearing. Callum froze completely, genuine realization and horror flickering across his scarred face. Claire saw it all; she saw the deep regret, and she saw the ugly truth he had never meant to reveal to her.

"So ye do ken," Claire whispered, the puzzle finally falling into place. "It was yer father. He attacked first. He…"

"Enough!" Callum's ferocious roar echoed violently through the ancient trees.

Before Claire could even draw another breath, Callum crossed the distance between them with terrifying speed. His heavy, calloused hand struck her brutally across the face with a sharp, sickening crack. Pain exploded instantly through her delicate cheekbone, and the sheer force of the blow sent her crashing sideways onto the cold, hard ground.

CHAPTER THIRTY

The first lifeless body lay draped half across the muddy road, the pouring rain already working to wash away the brutal evidence of the ambush.

I should never have sent her away.His chest tightened painfully as his massive warhorse reared at the sharp, metallic scent of fresh blood thick in the cold air.

"Douglas, secure the perimeter immediately," Finn commanded, his voice coming out far lower and much more shaken than he had ever intended.

Douglas dismounted swiftly beside him, his rugged face hardening into a mask of pure stone as his sharp gaze swept over the two fallen guards near the overturned carriage. The rain darkened the earth, turning the pooling blood into slick, crimson streaks running helplessly toward the shallow ditch.

"They are all dead, me Laird," Douglas stated grimly, his voice carrying clearly over the steady patter of the falling rain.

Finn pushed himself up from the wet ground without bothering to answer, hurrying desperately toward the ruined carriage where the torn door hung uselessly off its iron hinges. He climbed inside the shadowy cabin, his eyes sweeping over the scattered wool blankets and the delicate silk ribbon fluttering helplessly in the bitter wind.

"Claire!" Finn roared into the dense, surrounding forest, his desperate voice echoing wildly against the ancient pine trees.

Please be gone, please have escaped into the woods,he begged silently, jumping back down to the muddy road to search for any sign of her among the scattered debris.

"They took her," Douglas announced quietly, stepping out from the opposite side of the carriage with a profoundly grim expression.

Finn looked at his oldest friend, the terrible words completely refusing to settle in his rational mind as he stared at a torn piece of fabric snagged on the broken step.

"Nay, search the perimeter again," Finn denied the terrifying reality, shaking his head stubbornly against the freezing rain.

Douglas held his ground, his broad shoulders squared against the driving storm as he looked upon his Laird with deep, unspoken pity.

"We already have, Finn. They took her," Douglas repeated softly, dropping his formal title in the face of such absolute tragedy.

A soft sound drifted through the heavy rain, prompting them to follow the tragic sobbing through the flattened, bloody grass until they reached a waterlogged ditch. Curled tightly into herself and shaking violently against the freezing downpour was Claire's loyal maid.

"Molly," Finn called out gently, slowly dropping to one knee in the freezing mud right beside the trembling woman.

The older woman flinched violently at the sound of his voice, her woolen skirts completely soaked with rain and her pale cheek horribly streaked with bright crimson blood.

"It is me, Molly. Ye are completely safe now," Finn assured her, keeping his tone as steady and calming as he possibly could.

Slowly, her wide, terrified eyes finally focused on his familiar face, and the sheer relief that washed over her features absolutely broke his heart.

"Me lady... they took me lady," Molly sobbed, her voice cracking beneath the immense weight of her crushing grief.

Finn gently placed his large hand over hers, offering a silent, grounding strength even as his own world fractured completely into a thousand jagged pieces.

I swear I will hunt them down and skin them alive.

"I ken, Molly, but tell me, are ye badly hurt?" Finn asked, needing to ensure the loyal maid would survive the brutal aftermath.