Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“On me own lands! How dare the scum do such things under me very nose,” Marcus raged as he stormed through his chamber, his mind a whirlwind of fury and frustration.
His hands clenched into fists as he paced, his thoughts consumed by the attack on Annabeth and how close she had come to being harmed.
The image of her trembling, vulnerable, and alone in the forest haunted him, gnawing at his insides.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had failed her in some way, despite being there when it mattered most.
Unable to calm his restless mind, Marcus finally left his room and headed straight for Eli’s quarters. He pounded on the door with a force that echoed down the hallway.
“Eli! Open this door,” he said firmly
To his surprise, the door swung open almost immediately, and Elena quickly slipped out, carrying a tray laden with food. She curtsied awkwardly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and hurried down the hall without a word.
Marcus raised an eyebrow at Eli, who leaned casually against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. Eli’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he shrugged.
“She was just clearin’ away the old dishes, naythin’ more to it,” he said, his voice laced with teasing.
Marcus shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but he let it slide.
“Aye, right,” Marcus grunted, clearly not buying it. “I’ve got somethin’ else to sort, and it cannae wait. From now on, we’ll be postin’ guard patrols in the moss grove. The women wander there too often, and it’s high time we ensure it’s safe for them.”
Eli’s expression turned serious as he nodded. “Aye, I’ll get that done right away. Anythin’ else botherin’ ye, Marcus?” He studied his friend, sensing there was more on his mind.
Marcus hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the ground for a moment. The words he wanted to say were stuck, tangled in a sea of frustration and emotion. He clenched his jaw, refusing to speak the thoughts clouding his mind.
“Nay, just see to it,” he said gruffly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Aye, I’ll handle it,” Eli replied, his voice steady.
Though Marcus could see that Eli knew something troubled him. Eli gave a brief nod before turning on his heel and heading out to get the task done. Marcus watched him go, feeling the weight of his thoughts settle back in, even as he tried to push them aside.
Marcus walked down the castle corridor, his boots echoing on the cold stone floor.
The long hallway was dimly lit by flickering torches mounted on the walls, casting dancing shadows.
The air was thick with the scent of stone and wood, and the silence of the night seemed to press in on him.
His thoughts were scattered, and the weight of the day’s events hung heavy on him, especially after what had happened in the forest with Annabeth.
Stopping in front of Annabeth’s door, Marcus hesitated for a brief moment.
He raised his hand and knocked, the sound sharp in the quiet of the night.
After a few moments, the door creaked open, just a crack, and he saw her standing there in a simple nightshift, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders.
His breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her—she looked soft and vulnerable, and yet there was a strength in her eyes that made his pulse quicken.
The sight of Annabeth in her nightshift stirred something deep within him, and he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have her in his arms. He longed to feel her close, to take control of this powerful attraction that pulled at him.
His grip on his emotions tightened as he forced himself to push those thoughts away, knowing they were forbidden.
“I came to check on ye,” Marcus said, his voice rougher than he intended. “How are ye feelin’, lass?”
Annabeth hesitated for a moment before answering. “I’m still a bit shaken,” she replied quietly, her eyes meeting his, “but I’m fine now.” Her voice was steady though there was a subtle tremor she couldn’t quite mask.
Marcus studied her for a moment, his gaze softening with concern. “Is there anything I can do to make ye feel calm?” he asked, his voice gentle but full of intent.
He wanted to take away her fear, to protect her from whatever might trouble her. But as he stood there, waiting for her response, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this moment than just reassurance.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she whispered, “Maybe some whiskey would help me sleep.”
A smile tugged at Marcus’ lips as he nodded. “Aye, I’ll have a bottle sent up to yer room.” His voice was warm, and the tension between them seemed to ease for a brief moment. He knew it wasn’t much, but it was the least he could do for her after what she’d been through.
“Thank ye, Marcus,” Annabeth said, her voice soft as she gave him a small, appreciative smile. “Goodnight.” She gave him one last glance before she slowly closed the door, the quiet click of it echoing in his ears.
Marcus stood there for a moment longer, his heart pounding in his chest, before he finally turned and made his way back down the hall, his mind still reeling from the brief exchange. As he moved, a bitter thought gnawed at him—
This is me fault. I forced her to leave her home village. That’s why she faced danger today.
The anger burned within him as he replayed the events over and over.
He had thought he was protecting her, but instead, he had dragged her into a nightmare, and it pained him more than he cared to admit.
By the time Marcus reached the kitchen, his frustration had boiled over, and the tightness in his chest felt unbearable.
He ordered a servant to bring a bottle of whiskey and a bowl of hot stew to Annabeth’s room.
He could only focus on the idea of her being comforted, of her being cared for in some small way.
It wasn’t much, but it was the least he could do after everything that had happened.
As the servant quickly hurried away, Marcus grabbed a bottle of ale from the counter, uncorking it with a frustrated grunt.
He drank deeply, the cool liquid burning as it slid down his throat.
For a moment, the bitterness of the ale seemed to match the bitterness inside him, and it did nothing to ease the restless tension he felt.
But it did help push the thoughts of Annabeth—her anger, her distance—away for a brief time.
I should’ve never brought her here.
The more he thought about the risks he’d put her in, the worse he felt about his choices.
His eyes narrowed as he thought about the kiss.
Was it wrong of me?
The hunger he’d felt, the intensity, the need to claim her—it still burned in him, and it unsettled him. She had been so close, and he had almost let himself cross a line he hadn’t meant to.
He slammed the bottle down onto the table, the sound of it echoing in the otherwise quiet kitchen.
She probably hates me now. It’s nay wonder after all I’ve put her through.
He wanted to scream, to throw something, but instead, he took another swig of ale to drown out the anger, the guilt, and the overwhelming desire that still lingered from earlier as he made his way back to her room
He banged on the door. Annabeth answered with wide eyes.
“I demand to ken what makes ye cross with me?” His eyes darkened.
“I am nae cross with ye, Me Laird,” she replied.
“Ye push me out of these rooms with nay a word more than mere pleasantries.” His chest heaved up and down.
“Can ye only think of yerself at such a time?” she spat back.
“Nay, I can only think of ye, for ye will drive me to madness with yer reckless behavior,” he said as he took wide steps getting closer to her.
He looked down at her as she raised her chin up at him.
“Ye are a stubborn lass, strong but stubborn. Ye ken that?”
“I can say the same about ye,” she observed.
“That’s different,” he replied.
“Why? Cause ye’re a man? I am a proud strong woman, and I will do as I see fit if a friend is in danger. Today, that friend was Elena, and if it bothers ye so much, ye can always send me back home.” Her eyes flashed with anger.
Marcus looked at her trembling lips, p cupped her chin with his hand, and held it, fighting the urge to kiss those trembling lips. But he realized that she was right. She had a trying day, and now, he was putting more strain on her.
“We leave at dawn tomorrow,” he said. He turned on his heels and left her room with his appetite for her stronger than ever.
The next morning, Marcus made his way down the stone corridors of the castle to his father’s chambers.
His mind still lingered on the events from the previous night, but he knew he needed to focus on the task at hand.
His father, Leon, was bedridden, but Marcus had never stopped checking on him, no matter how busy he was.
As he approached the door, he knocked softly, pushing it open when he heard his father’s voice.
“Ah, Marcus,” Leon said, his voice hoarse but warm, “ye’ve come to check on yer old da again, I see. Sit, lad, sit. I’ve nay need to be alone today.”
Marcus frozen in the door. His father was walking around the room. Slowly but walking.
“Faither, ye stand and walk? Ye should be in bed.”
“Aye, look at me son. ’Tis that Annabeth; she has done wonders. I followed her orders, and I've been better day by day. Soon I'll be able to leave me chambers and walk the castle, perhaps join ye for supper.”
Marcus hugged his father firmly. “’Tis the greatest of news. A miracle.”
“Nae, ’tis Annabeth.”
“Aye, Annabeth…” Marcus said.
“I ken that look. Sit, and tell me what ails ye,” Leon commanded.
Marcus took a seat, his brow furrowed as he spoke. “I’m leavin’ today for Galton,” he said, his voice serious. “The folk there have fallen ill, and I’ll be takin’the healer with me to tend to them. Annabeth.”
Leon raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with mischief despite his weakened state. “Aye, the healer, eh? She’s a bonnie lass,” he observed with a knowing smile.
Marcus stiffened slightly, surprised by his father’s words. “I’ve nae noticed,” he replied stiffly though his voice teased lightly.
Leon let out a hearty laugh that filled the room. “Aye, ye cannae fool me, lad. Ye’ve got a fire in yer eyes when ye speak of her. It’s obvious as the sun in the sky that ye’re taken with her.”
Marcus shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Maither says I must marry to strengthen the clan,” he said, trying to brush aside his father’s teasing. “The healer’s just a village girl. It would be wrong to lead her astray.”
Leon’s expression grew serious as he looked at his son, his voice soft but firm.
“As much as I love Elizabeth, I’ll tell ye this, Marcus,” he said.
“I disagree with her on this matter. True love is worth more than any alliance. Now that I’m sick and near the end, I see it clearer than ever.
It’s me dyin’ wish to ken that me one and only son has a mate beside him who truly loves him—someone who will defend him, nae a woman brought in from the outside to strengthen bonds that cannae be trusted. ”
Marcus was quiet for a moment, feeling the weight of his father’s words. He stood up from his seat, and embracing him tightly, he said, “I promise, Faither, I’ll return soon, and I’ll think on what ye’ve said.”