Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The next morning, Annabeth prepared her bags to leave but could not stop thinking about Marcus at her door the night before.
What is happenin’ between us? I wish I could shut down the growin’ feelings inside, but his presence only makes them more real, more dangerous.
An hour later, Marcus, Eli, Elena, Annabeth, and three guards made their way toward the village of Galton.
Marcus and Annabeth rode on one horse while Eli and Elena shared another.
Annabeth felt flustered, so close to Marcus after their kiss, and she tried to focus her attention on something else to calm her racing thoughts.
It was then that she noticed Elena and Eli talking in a way that seemed more than casual—there was something flirtatious in their exchanges, their laughter a little too easy.
Is this Eli responsible for Elena’s bairn?
“Ye’ve nae been watchin’ them too closely, have ye? They’ve a way of talkin’ that seems far too friendly for me taste,” Marcus whispered over his shoulder to her in a teasing manner.
Annabeth snapped her head back to him, her heart quickening. “What do ye mean, Marcus? They’re just talkin’,” she replied, her tone defensive.
She shifted in her seat, trying to focus her thoughts on anything other than the growing tension between them. “It’s nae concern of yours who talks to whom,” she said.
Marcus gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Ye’re mistaken if ye think it’s nae concern of mine,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “Ye’ve seen the way they look at each other—ye cannae deny it.”
Annabeth clenched her jaw, trying to hold back her frustration. “Aye, I’ve seen it,” she muttered. “But it’s nae me place to say what they do or daenae do.” She felt a flush rise to her cheeks, a strange feeling of anger gnawing at her despite herself.
Marcus glanced at her, a frown crossing his features. “Ye’re right, it’s nae yer place,” he replied gruffly. “But ye’ve a right to be cautious. When men and women start to flirt, it often leads to trouble. Ye daenae want to see that happenin’ in the camp.”
Annabeth raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze. “Ye think I’m worried about them?” she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Ye think I’m bothered by who’s flirtin’ with who? It’s nae me business.”
Marcus’ eyes darkened, a mixture of irritation and something deeper flickering behind them. “Aye, ye might nae be worried now, but I’ve seen the way ye’ve looked at him—Eli, I mean.” His voice lowered. “Ye think I daenae notice?”
Annabeth’s breath hitched, a mix of surprise and unease twisting in her chest. “Ye’ve nae idea what ye’re talkin’ about, Marcus. I’ve got more important things to focus on than anyone else’s—” She stopped herself, unsure of how to finish.
Marcus said nothing for a moment, the silence hanging heavy between them.
Finally, he muttered, “Aye, I suppose ye do, daenae ye?” He turned his gaze back to the path ahead, his words lingering in the air like a challenge.
Annabeth couldn’t help but feel like they both had far too many unspoken things between them now. She glanced away quickly, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach as she focused on the road ahead.
The village slowly came into view, and Annabeth was in awe of how the villagers greeted Marcus, bowing in respect as they rode through the narrow paths.
It was clear that the Laird held great influence here, and Annabeth couldn't help but feel both humbled and overwhelmed.
They arrived at the inn, and the group quickly set up in the back where the stables were modified into a makeshift healers hut, used to treat those in need of care.
Annabeth found herself working closely with Elena.
The time seemed to fly by as they worked in tandem, and Annabeth couldn’t deny it was a relief to have Elena’s help.
By the time the evening arrived, Annabeth was physically exhausted, but there was a sense of satisfaction in the air.
She couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly they had settled into their roles and how she had grown accustomed to this new rhythm of life.
Later that evening, they all gathered for dinner at the inn’s tavern.
The warmth of the room, the chatter of the other patrons, and the smell of hearty food filled the air.
Annabeth and Marcus sat across from each other, the tension between them palpable despite the lighthearted conversation around them.
As they spoke, their eyes locked for a brief moment, and there was an undeniable pull between them—an unspoken yearning.
The smell of roast meat and freshly baked bread filled the air. Marcus picked up his mug of ale, taking a long swig before casting a sidelong glance at Annabeth, who was ladling some stew onto her plate.
“Ye’ve quite the appetite for a healer,” he said with a grin, leaning slightly toward her. “Aye, ye’ll have to be careful, or I might mistake ye for one of the warriors at this rate.”
Annabeth looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “And what would be wrong with that, Laird?” she teased, her lips curving into a playful smile. “I’m nae as fragile as ye might believe.”
Marcus chuckled, a low sound that made her pulse quicken though she tried to remain composed.
“Oh, I’m certain ye could hold yer own against me guards,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“But I’d like to see it. Might even enjoy watchin’ ye take on one; if ye can best them, I’ll have to reconsider me thoughts on ye. ”
Annabeth leaned back in her chair, meeting his gaze with a mischievous spark in her eyes. “Is that a challenge, Marcus?” she asked, her voice light but laced with a teasing undertone. “Are ye sure ye’re ready for me to prove that I’m more than just a healer?”
Marcus smirked, his gaze not leaving hers as he set his mug down. “I’m always ready for a challenge, Annabeth,” he said softly, his voice low and a little dangerous. “But be careful what ye wish for, lass. Ye might find yerself in a position ye cannae easily escape.”
Annabeth’s breath hitched slightly at his words, but she quickly recovered, her smile widening. “I doubt it,” she said, leaning forward just enough to close the distance between them. “Ye can always try me if ye’re feelin’ bold.”
Marcus’ smile deepened, a mixture of admiration and something more in his gaze. “Bold? I’ve never been anythin’ less,” he replied, his voice just above a whisper. “But if ye prefer to keep me on me toes, I’ll let ye have the final word, lass.”
Annabeth’s heart raced, and she knew she was playing a dangerous game, but it was one she couldn’t resist. She tilted her head slightly, her voice lowering as she teased, “Ye’ll let me have the final word, Laird? I thought ye were a man who liked to be in control.”
Marcus’ lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “In control?” he repeated, his voice thick with amusement. “Ah, lass, ye have nay idea how much control I’m willin’ to give up when I’m in the right company.”
She watched as his gaze moved to her heaving breasts.
Annabeth’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt her heart race as she watched Marcus’ gaze move to her mouth and linger on her lips.
His expression softened, a flicker of something intense passing through his eyes.
She felt heat rush to her cheeks, her body betraying her thoughts as she fought the urge to close the distance between them.
It was as if the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them in that charged moment.
The sound of Eli's voice broke the spell but not before Annabeth could feel the warmth of Marcus’ gaze still lingering on her.
“More ale!” Eli shouted to the innkeeper.
She quickly looked down at her plate, trying to steady her breath.
She was certain that Marcus had felt it too, that tension between them that was both exciting and terrifying.
But as quickly as the moment had come, it seemed to vanish, leaving Annabeth to wonder what could have happened if they had just leaned in, just for a second.
As they ate, the group exchanged light conversation, but Annabeth couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between her and Marcus.
Every time he glanced in her direction, she felt the warmth of his stare, and every word they exchanged felt laden with a different meaning than what the words meant.
She couldn’t deny the attraction, but at the same time, fear gripped her—fear of what might happen if she let herself fall too deeply. She glanced at Elena, who seemed to notice her unease, offering a subtle, knowing smile.
Her pulse quickened, and she cursed herself for the way her heart seemed to race whenever he was near.
Pull yerself together.
Annabeth took a deep breath, focusing on the conversation around her. “How’s yer food, Elena?” she asked.
However, she barely heard Elena’s response; she could still feel the pull of his presence at her side.
The warmth of the room, the chatter of the other guests, the clinking of glasses—it all felt distant now, as if they were in their own world, separated from the others by something unspoken and electric.
A soft laugh broke her thoughts as Marcus leaned closer, his voice lowering in a way that made her stomach flutter. She realized that he was deep in his cups, and the drunkenness was making him bold.
“Ye seem a bit distracted, lass,” he said, his words carrying a hint of something more. “Somethin’ I said?”
Annabeth met his eyes, unable to mask the vulnerability she felt, but she forced herself to remain composed. “Nae distracted,” she replied though her voice betrayed her. “Just thinkin’.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow, his smile widening as if he saw right through her. “Aye, thinkin’, eh?” he mused. “I am thinkin’ as well, of somethin’ that I dare nae say out loud, or ye would blush as red as a rose.”
Her eyes widened as he took the liberty of allowing his eyes to roam over her body with those words. She looked away, feeling the moisture gathering between her thighs and her nipples become sensitive against the fabric of her dress.
What is happening to me?
By the time dinner was over and the group retired to their rooms, Annabeth found herself restless. She lay in bed, her thoughts consumed by Marcus and the unexpected desires that had swept through her with his playful words and roaming eyes.
The kiss they had shared, the quiet moments of lingering gazes—it all felt so uncertain, so full of possibilities that she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. But as sleep finally claimed her, she couldn’t deny the ache in her chest, the desire for something more with Marcus.
His touch.
The next day as Annabeth worked, Elena nervously approached.
“I’ve a secret to tell ye,” Elena whispered. “I think I’m with a bairn.”
Annabeth dropped the poultice in her hand. She had already suspected as much, but to hear the words still surprised her.
“Elena? Are ye sure?” Annabeth placed her hand on Elena’s belly.
“I believe so. It’s been two months since me moon time,” Elena said.
“Would ye like me to examine ye and see?” Annabeth asked.
“Aye, but ye must keep it secret,” Elena said.
“Were ye forced into this situation?” Annabeth whispered.
Elena shook her head, no. “A secret because I daenae want to tarnish me lover’s reputation. He’s a good man and has asked for me hand in marriage, but I havenae agreed.”
“What? Why would ye say nay?”
“He’s a man of such station, I’m nae sure I’m good enough. What would people say?”
“Ye should care of yer own happiness and nae of the waggin’ tongues of others. Now let me examine ye,” Annabeth said.
As she started her examination, she realized that her own words were not something she practiced herself, for she also thought she was not worthy of Marcus, a man of a high station, and she was just a simple healer.