Taken By the Vicious Highlander (Taken by Highland Devils #5)

Chapter 16

16

D amon’s boots pounded on the stone floor as he furiously chased the hooded figure. The torchlight caught something glinting on their person, and he strained his eyes to try and see it.

A clan kilt pin? An enemy clan?

Fury surged through his veins, each step echoing his rage. The sound of Ryder’s footsteps caught up behind him. “I heard the screams, Me Laird.”

“They’re cloaked. I think they have a kilt pin,” Damon said between pants. He was grateful for the man’s loyalty.

“The courtyard?”

“Aye, let’s split up,” Damon barked over his shoulder. “Search the south corridor. I’ll take the main stairs and corridor.”

Ryder left without another word, veering off into the shadows of the corridor.

Damon’s muscles tensed as he pushed himself faster, bursting out of the castle and into the cool night air. The figure ahead was nimble. At the very second he thought he might catch them at the banisters, the figure leaped over the bulwark and disappeared into the shadows of the courtyard

“Christ!” Damon hissed but leaped after the culprit without hesitation.

The assailant tore across the courtyard and up to the path toward the mountains. Moonlight illuminated patches of their reddish-black cloak, taunting Damon with the promise of capture.

Which clan has red and black for colors? MacCraith? Dàrchasaidh?

The distant clinking of armor and faint yells signaled that the castle guards had been roused, but Damon didn’t wait for reinforcements. He took the narrow path up the hills, each step an unrelenting pursuit.

The rocky terrain slowed him as the figure easily slipped between boulders and patches of dense trees.

He kens the land, which means he either has good intelligence or he’s from here. Which clans are nearby? There is Clan Monroich to the South, but would Ewan ever get involved in such a thing? Surely nae…

Damon’s mind reeled.

He gritted his teeth at the prospect of potentially exposing this stranger and pressed on. His determination burned brighter with every heartbeat. This wasn’t just about that message on the wall. Whoever this was had dared to threaten Lilith, and that was unforgivable.

Up ahead, a misstep from the fleeing figure sent loose gravel down the rock face and into Damon’s eyes. But he managed to close the distance between them, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword as he prepared to strike. But just as he rounded the corner of a jagged cliffside, the figure disappeared into the shadows.

Damon cursed under his breath, stopping to scan his surroundings. The faint sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention.

“They’ve vanished,” Ryder called out, emerging from the shadows, his tone laced with frustration. He was slightly out of breath but still alert. “Must’ve kenned the terrain well.”

“Indeed. I’ve nae seen any of our men run up this rock face with such ease…”

Damon glanced down at the ground, noting the disturbed dirt and broken twigs. He let out a slow, steady breath, reining in his anger.

“Did ye catch the pin at all?”

“Nay, it was too dark. I didnae get close enough,” Ryder said, scanning the area.

Damon sighed. “Damn…”

His eyes darted around for any sign of movement in the shadows of the trees. Just then, something caught his attention—a tiny, vibrant speck amidst the otherwise muted landscape.

“Would ye look at that,” he murmured, crouching down slowly.

“The pin?” Ryder asked and peered over his shoulder. “Ah, the Twinflower. Do ye ken it?”

“Twinflower?” Damon echoed as he sat down next to the hidden bloom, his eyes stuck on the pale pink, bell-shaped petals.

“Aye. The twinflower is rare to find here. I ken them well from me… lands,” Ryder explained, suddenly lost in a distant memory.

“Mmm. Nay doubt the McKenzie lands, right?” Damon said, pulling him back into the present.

Ryder hesitated before replying, “Aye, the same.”

Damon clicked his tongue and nodded thoughtfully.

This conversation was goin’ to happen, eventually. It might as well happen now.

“I grew up hearin’ about yer story, Ryder. Most of Scotland has, in fact. I dinnae ken much about the sensibilities of faithers, even me own, but as Laird, I can say with surety that ye will always be welcome here.”

“Ye dinnae have to pity me, Damon,” Ryder said simply with a lopsided smile.

Damon placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Ye kept Lilith and me sister-in-law, Willow, alive. I ken I owe ye a great deal for what ye have done for them. Ye have our gratitude, man.”

He dropped his hand.

The assailant is still out there, probably watchin’ us even now. Plottin’ their next move. But I’ll be damned if I let Lilith walk blindly into another trap.

“We’ve got some work to do,” he added, pushing himself to his feet before patting off the rock dust that had collected on his clothing.

Ryder exhaled deeply before following him. “Aye, let’s go. Stop with all of this flower crap.” He laughed knowingly before sauntering away.

With every interaction, Ryder was proving to be a loyal and trusted man. Not that Damon needed that reassurance, for he trusted Lilith’s judgment. But because he couldn’t trust anyone’s intentions, he wanted to see how Ryder responded when put to the test. He let out a hearty laugh and followed the man back to their horses.

Back at the castle, Damon wasted no time. He summoned the guards, barking orders at them to tighten patrols around the grounds and keep a vigilant watch on all entry points.

“Smith, call a council meeting.”

The thought of Lilith brought to the forefront of his mind the way she tasted and how delicious his name sounded on her moaning lips, and he was rooted to the spot by it.

Ryder continued instructing the men around them, and the room started to focus on the stairwell. Smith sidestepped knowingly.

Up, he thought, and his body moved without hesitation.

He heard a distant “in the morning, Me Laird,” from Smith before he was bounding up the steps toward his chambers.

She has to be safe. She must be all right.

“Lass?” Damon hissed into the darkness of his room.

His eyes darted around the space, adjusting too slowly for his liking. He stepped further inside, careful not to wake Lilith if she was still in his room.

Nae on the bed…

He poked his head into the sitting room before walking toward the simmering hearth inside.

“Lass?” he whispered again, his voice no louder than a leaf falling.

Her wild hair glinted in the firelight, and he instinctively crouched down. An arm was thrown over the armrests of the lounge chair she occupied, her head and neck contorted into what looked like a death trap.

She stayed?

“Lass, are ye well?” he whispered louder but didn’t receive a response again.

He slid his arms under her comatose body with ease and carried her to his bed.

I’ll just lay her down and leave.

He turned away, but her small hand tugged on his tunic.

Damon pulled back slightly to see that Lilith had found purchase on a fold of the fabric, and her vice-like grip refused to relax when he gently tried to pull away. A smile tugged at his lips, and he maneuvered around her hold to lie next to her.

Several hours later, Lilith stirred next to him. He blinked one eye open to see that her grip had still not relaxed, and he chuckled softly before closing his eyes once more.

The council will be meetin’ soon. I should probably figure out a way to get out of bed without wakin’ her, but ? —

Damon’s hesitation was only punctuated by the memory of how well she dealt with the villagers in Branloch.

She has a way of seein’ things that others dinnae. Her insight could be valuable. Maybe she recognized the man before he took off…

“Ye look troubled,” she said sleepily, her hazel eyes suddenly fixed on him. “What’s on yer mind?”

Damon pried one eyelid open. “Are ye well?”

“I feel… different, but aye, I am well.”

Damon closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, fighting the pull he now felt in his groin. He hadn’t asked her that question to gauge her feelings about the evening they had shared, although perhaps he should have because she had very clearly misunderstood.

“Good,” he managed to say. Then, he paused before beginning the original line of questioning again, one arm resting on his stomach and the other tucked beneath his head. “Did the attacker hurt ye in any way last night, lass?”

Lilith stretched out like a cat next to him, her hands rising over her head lazily before falling back down. “Nay, he just scared me. Did ye get him?”

Damon’s eyes locked onto hers. “Him?”

“I…” she started to say and sat upright. “I just thought it might have been?”

“I thought so too, but I didnae ken for sure.”

The silence between them grew, making the bed feel smaller than ever.

Damon sat up and faced her. “I have an idea I want to share with ye,” he began. “Something I think could help the clan.”

Her curiosity was piqued, and she leaned forward slightly. “Go on.”

“Back at Brahanne, we have a tradition—The Market Day Festival. Twice a year, the people gather to trade, feast, drink, and celebrate. It strengthens the clan. Makes them feel part of something bigger than themselves. I want to do the same here.”

A flicker of interest crossed her face, the corners of her lips twitching. “A festival?”

“Aye. A day for the merchants, the farmers, the craftsmen. A day where the clan comes together, nae just to survive but to live. With all these attacks, I just ken we need a respite.”

“I never took ye for the sentimental type,” Lilith joked, but her fingers combed through her hair, pulling it back from her face, and her eyebrows knitted together as if she were considering his suggestion. “It’s a good idea.” She paused. “But it willnae be easy.”

Damon exhaled through his nose. “I ken it willnae be easy, but that doesnae mean it’s nae worth doin’.”

“It’s nae just about the effort, Damon. Change is… difficult for people who’ve already lost so much.” Her voice was softer now, edged with something unspoken. “They may see it as an unnecessary risk. Or worse, a distraction from things they believe need yer attention more.”

“They may,” he conceded. “But they also need something more than empty bellies and fear to hold onto.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh. “If we wait for them to come to us, we’ll be waitin’ forever. This is how we show them that we mean to lead, nae just rule.”

She held his gaze, considering, calculating. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Ye’ll need to be careful in how ye present it to the council.”

He scoffed. “Ye mean I’ll need to be careful of Tristan and Sebastian.”

She gave him a wry smile. “They willnae be the only ones who doubt ye.”

“I’d be disappointed if they didnae.”

Lilith leaned back against the headboard, her eyes sharp despite the amused tilt of her lips. “If ye want them to agree, ye must make them feel as though they’ve come to the decision themselves.”

Damon arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Aye. Flatter them. Appeal to their sense of importance. Men like that dinnae like to be told what’s best for them—they like to think they came up with the notion themselves.”

A chuckle rumbled low in his chest. “Ye expect me to stroke their… pride?”

The blush that crept up Lilith’s neck and cheeks was almost too much to resist.

She spoke thoughtfully, “I expect ye to be smarter than both of them. For all their faults, their opinions hold quite a bit of weight around here.”

“By design?”

“I think it was unintentionally driven by Magnus’s ignorance and violence.”

That gave him pause. He tilted his head slightly, watching her. “So, ye truly think it’ll work?”

“I think it’s worth tryin’. And more than that, I think it could be good for our people.”

Something in the way she said ‘our’ made his chest tighten uncomfortably, but he pushed past it.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll bring it before the council.” He climbed out of bed and made for the door, but her voice stopped him.

“What? Now?”

“Aye, I ken I’m already late.” He smirked before turning away from her.

“Damon?”

He glanced back.

She hesitated for only a breath before walking toward him. “Thank ye… for includin’ me in this.”

He studied her, the way the firelight danced across her hair, the softness in her eyes.

“Ye value knowledge and are more than capable when outfitted with it. It’s yer clan too, Lilith. I’d be daft nae to include ye.”

Her lips parted slightly, her expression unreadable. Then, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to his cheek.

It was over before he could react, but the warmth of it lingered.

He forced himself to clear his throat and turn away before she saw the way his fingers flexed at his sides.

“I’ll see ye after the meeting, lass,” he said, and then he left, though the ghost of her touch stayed with him long after.