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

Chapter 25

25

S he followed him to his chambers.

Damon barely made it inside before she pushed the door open and stormed in after him.

The air in his chambers was thick—stifling. Lilith stood in the center of the room, her arms wrapped tight around her middle as though she were holding herself together.

Damon paced near the hearth, tension radiating from him in waves. His jaw was clenched, his hands flexing at his sides as though itching for a weapon—itching to cut something down, to end, to control.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Lilith?—”

“Look me in the eye,” she demanded.

He did. And it nearly undid her.

Because she saw the exhaustion, the battle lingering in his gaze. But she also saw the walls. The walls that weren’t there one week ago. The decision to push her away.

She hated him for it.

But she wasn’t done with him yet.

“I want me seventh night,” she said in a softer voice this time, less defiant but no less certain.

Damon scoffed, shaking his head. “Looks like I’ve already convinced ye, does it nae? I mean, look at ye—” His injured arm swept up and down to emphasize his point.

Her throat constricted at his words, but she forced herself not to react. Not to let him see that each careless remark cut her deeper than any blade could have.

“Is this how ye wish to spend it? In a quarrel?” he continued.

She took a step closer. “It doesnae have to be a quarrel. I wish to talk about Ariah.”

His expression darkened instantly, his whole body stilling with deadly, predatory instinct. “We are nae talkin’ about Ariah.”

“I dinnae care if ye wish to talk about her or nae— I’m talkin’ about her.”

Damon inhaled sharply, his shoulders rising with the force of it before he let out a sharp, irritated breath. “Ye ken what she did, Lilith,” he said, starting to turn away from her.

“Still, she doesnae deserve to die!”

“I’ve already told ye, she isnae goin’ to die. But the attack?—”

“Was on me ,” she interrupted, her voice firm. She stepped into the space in front of him, forcing him to look at her, forcing him to listen. “Should I nae have a say in how it’s handled?”

Damon’s blue eyes locked onto hers, sharp and unreadable as his jaw clenched. The tension between them stretched, so taut it could snap at any moment.

She pressed him further. “Ye say ye want stability. Killin’ her will only cause more division. Her faither?—”

“Is dead. I killed him.”

“What?”

“Her faither…” Damon lifted his injured arm again, and Lilith’s eyes locked onto it, following the finger pointing through the window. “I killed him. He led the attack on us because of me . He was behind it all . Whatever all entails.”

“So, it wasnae her fault,” Lilith pointed out urgently.

His nostrils flared, and his hands clenched into fists. “What do ye suggest, then? That we forgive her?”

Lilith hesitated. “I suggest we show mercy.”

Damon let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Mercy is weakness.”

“Magnus used to say that.” Lilith crossed her arms defiantly.

“He never did,” Damon said angrily, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“He did ,” Lilith insisted, reaching for him. Her small hand rested on his arm.

He didn’t look at her hand on his arm.

He didn’t shrug her off.

But he didn’t move toward her either.

For a long moment, they just stood there, staring at each other, the tension between them thick enough to suffocate. They were breathing in each other’s anger, frustration, exhaustion.

Then, Damon exhaled harshly and lowered his voice. “If I spare her, there will be nay more moves against ye, or me. Nay more secrets. Nay more lies.”

Lilith hesitated.

Nay more secrets?

Damon narrowed his eyes at her, searching her face. “Do ye have anythin’ else to tell me?”

She opened her mouth.

The letter burned in her mind.

Magnus’s child.

Rightful heir.

Tristan.

Ariah.

Her chest tightened. Her ribs ached. The weight of the truth was crushing her so ruthlessly that she almost told him.

But then Damon turned away, letting her hand fall to her side with an audible smack against her skirt. “I’ve been thinkin’ about sendin’ ye away, lass.”

The words were like ice down her spine, crashing over her like cold water, knocking the air out of her lungs.

She went rigid, her lips barely able to move. “What?”

Damon continued moving as though he hadn’t just shattered her, as though the conversation had already shifted, and her presence here—her standing right before him—was nothing more than a temporary inconvenience.

“I’ve been considerin’ it for a while,” he said absently, running his hand over his jaw. His voice had lost its usual sharpness, replaced with something more distant and detached. “Just for a while. To stay with me braither and yer sister. Until I sort things out.”

Just for a while.

Like she was a problem he needed to put away until he could handle it in his own time.

Like she was in the way.

He wasn’t thinking about how this would sound to her. He wasn’t thinking about her at all.

He was just talking. Careless and thoughtless, as if she were furniture he could move.

Her heart pounded against her ribs as tears pricked her eyes painfully and bile rose in her throat, but she forced herself to speak. “Why?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples in distant contemplation. Still not looking at her, still talking as though this was some simple, logical decision. Nothing personal, nothing painful.

“Because stability is important,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “And if they have a problem with me, I’d rather ye nae be here for it. The attacks will continue.”

A lump formed in her throat.

“As long as I dinnae ken what’s comin’, I cannae risk it.”

She watched him move, watched the way his mind churned—calculating, planning. He was so focused on the weight of his title, on the enemies he couldn’t yet see, that he didn’t even notice her right in front of him.

“Just in case,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

Lilith’s nails bit into her palms so hard that she nearly drew blood, and her broken hand screamed painfully, making her hair stand on end. “Ye want me gone.”

The realization lodged itself deep inside her, cold and cruel.

Damon hesitated, his dark eyes meeting hers. “I want ye safe.”

She had known. Had felt the distance he put between them. But to hear him say it so easily, as though it didn’t matter…

She swallowed past the rock-hard lump in her throat as he started pacing again.

“It’s me duty to protect ye. I vowed it. How else can I keep ye safe? I cannae keep ye safe here—it’s the only way.”

Lilith blinked away the tears edging their way past her eyelashes. She wanted to rage, scream, anything to force him to look her in the eye, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move, could barely breathe, and then, as if he hadn’t already ripped her to pieces, he murmured, “Ye’re distractin’ me—even tonight, with the attack.”

Her whole body froze.

Damon’s voice was low, absent-minded, as if he hadn’t meant for the words to come out. As if her were just thinking out loud, laying out his options, weighing the cost.

And I am the cost.

Something inside her cracked.

She tried to speak, but nothing came out. No argument. No defense. No fight whatsoever, because it would have been pointless.

Damon didn’t even see what he’d done. He’d sucked the life from her limbs, and he hadn’t even watched. Not even now. He had already moved on, and she was just an afterthought.

Lilith twisted away, her vision blurry with tears.

She felt Damon shift behind her, as if reaching for her and then stopping himself.

Coward.

She knew she should storm out and let him see what it felt like to be completely abandoned, but she couldn’t move. Screaming at herself, pulling at her limbs, she stood frozen because even now—even as he was throwing her away—she loved him.

Lilith did the only thing she could think of. She inhaled sharply, steadied herself, and whispered the lie that she knew would have an equal effect on him. “I hate ye.”

Then, she walked away, and this time, he didn’t stop her.

She walked through the dark halls of the keep, her boots striking the cold stone floor. Each step echoed, rattling inside her like the remnants of a broken bell.

She didn’t hurry. She didn’t run. But every movement was deliberate, controlled, because if she stopped—if she hesitated even for a moment—she would shatter completely.

Damon’s words clung to her. They rang in her ears over and over again, pressing against the fragile pieces of her heart.

Ye’re distractin’ me.

Lilith hastened her steps, refusing to let the tears fall. “Nae yet, nae yet…” she frantically whispered to herself, rushing through the corridors.

Making it back to her chambers, and stepping inside with an eerie calmness, she waited for the soft click of the latch. The moment the door closed behind her, the dam broke.

She yanked open her wardrobe and pulled out a traveling cloak, extra tunics, and anything else she could grab with her trembling hands. She shoved them into a satchel, her breaths coming out way too fast, her chest too tight.

I have to get out of here.

I need to get out of here.

He doesnae want me here.

He wanted her gone so badly.

Fine then, I’ll be gone.

A sharp knock at the door made her freeze.

“Lilith?”

Ryder.

Her pulse spiked.

“Are ye all right?” His voice was edged with something cautious, something all too knowing.

She swallowed hard and answered in a steady voice, “Aye. I just need some rest.”

A pause.

“Will ye be needin’ anything?”

Lilith turned the words over in her head before she pulled the parchment from her pocket and slid it under the door, trusting Ryder’s discretion.

“Will ye put that on Damon’s desk for me? He’ll need it.”

“Ye dinnae want me to deliver it to him directly?”

“Nay, just put it on his desk—it’s nae urgent.”

“Aye, I’ll deliver it later.”

Another pause, and then Ryder spoke again, “Damon is expectin’ ye to stay put, Lilith.”

Her nails dug into the satchel strap.

Ye dinnae ken a damn thing.

She took a steadying breath and softened her voice. “Ryder, I ken that well enough. Please, just let me be.”

Another pause on the other side of the door and then the sound of his boots shifting. “If ye need anythin’ else, I’ll be right here.”

She waited, her breath held, until his footsteps faded.

Then, she turned around, glancing at the far wall. The tapestry hanging there was untouched, still hanging as it had always been.

Lilith allowed herself the smallest of smirks.

He thought he could keep me here after such a disgustin’ speech? Right.

This was her home, and she knew every single way out of it.

The moment she pushed the tapestry aside, the cool draft in the tunnel rushed over her, smelling of damp earth and aged stone.

It had been years since she’d last used this passage, but she still remembered it vividly.

She stepped inside, her fingers running along the walls until she found the iron latch. With a soft click, the hidden door swung open, revealing a narrow, winding corridor beyond.

A memory flashed through her mind, vivid and sharp—she and Willow slipping through that same corridor, hand in hand, their giggles hushed but still uncontrollable. The sound of their mirth echoed down the corridor even as they navigated it knowingly through the hidden nooks of the keep.

Her eyes stung as she recalled how she and her sister had escaped Magnus that night. They ran through the passageways and out into the night, convinced that they were invincible, that they had finally won.

She felt that thrill again, her lips curling into a smile at the pure, reckless joy of it. But then her heart sank, turning into lead in her chest, because she remembered why Magnus had never found them.

Ariah.

Ariah had stepped in at the right time and distracted Magnus long enough for them to slip away. And now… now her friend needed her.

Lilith’s throat tightened, and she furrowed her brow with determination, her pace quickening.

There’s only one way to make sure he doesnae harm her.

She had to get him out of the keep.

There was only one way to do it—beat him to the punch.

The tunnel spit her out near the old storage shed behind the stables. The moon was high, casting long shadows over the empty courtyard, and she chanced a look up at the luminous castle.

Damon’s study was lit fiercely, as if he had gone there straight from his chambers and lit every single candle he could find. As if trying to set it on fire.

Her horse, Taran, pawed at the ground anxiously when she approached, sensing her urgency.

Lilith worked quickly, tightening the saddle, tying down her bags, and adjusting the reins, her hands sure despite the wild thundering of her heart.

She mounted the brown and white mare, and the two of them bolted out of the stables. It was about ten minutes later, as they were tearing through Branloch, that they came upon their first, and hopefully only, speed bump. Emma Sinclair.

The woman always stood at the edge of town, on the stoop of the inn, around this time of night to coax wary travelers into the safety and warmth of the inn. So it was easy for her to recognize Lilith’s unmistakable blonde hair atop Taran, the only brown and white Gypsy Vanner in the McCallum lands.

Lilith nearly ran her right over.

“Saints above, child!” Emma yelped, throwing herself to the side as the horse reared slightly.

“Sorry, Emma!” Lilith squeaked out.

The woman scrambled upright, her graying hair sticking up in places, her eyes wide. “And what, pray tell, are ye doin’, sneakin’ about like a thief in the night?”

Lilith winced. “I need to go.”

Emma dusted herself off. “Aye, I can see that.” She squinted at Lilith. “Does the Laird ken?”

Lilith pressed her lips together.

Emma gasped. “Ach! Lassie, come inside. Ye’re always welcome here.”

“I cannae—nay time. I must away, Emma.”

The woman arched an eyebrow.

“I need ye to do somethin’ for me.”

“Och?”

“If— when —Laird McCallum comes lookin’, or Ryder, tell him I left. I’m goin’ to Brahanne. Tell him nae to follow me.”

Emma scoffed. “Och, aye. That’ll go really well, Me Lady.”

“Just do it for me,” Lilith snapped, before softening. “Please?”

Emma studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Ye’re still as much trouble as ye were when ye were a wee thing.”

Lilith smiled. “Aye.”

“I willnae lie to him, lass. But I’ll help ye.”

With a final gracious nod and tug on the reins, Lilith kicked her heels into Taran’s flanks and took off into the night.

The wind howled as she rode, the night stretching endlessly before her. She would be at Brahanne by midday.

Her heart ached, but she swallowed down the feeling.

Damon had made himself clear.

He wanted me gone? Fine, I’m gone. Now, he’ll have to come and find me.