Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The ride back to the castle was stiff with tension. Annabeth could feel the weight of Marcus’ disapproval of the fox nestled in her arms, its tiny body trembling slightly from its injury. He didn’t say anything, but she could tell by the way his jaw clenched that he was seething inside.
How dare he try to rule me?
The anger flared in her chest again, but there was a strange tug of confusion mixed in with it. Every time he spoke to her in that stern tone, something deep within her stirred, a kind of yearning she couldn’t quite explain.
His voice, when it was firm and commanding, ignited a fire she didn’t know she could feel, and yet, the very same voice made her want to push back, to defy him with every fiber of her being.
“’Tis a bonnie thing,” Elena said riding up next to Annabeth.
“Aye, tis. It’s fragile and injured. I mean to heal it,” Annabeth said.
“Such a thing is in yer nature. I ken that more than anyone,” Elena smiled.
“Thank ye for sayin’ that. I appreciate it,” Annabeth said loudly. She knew it was petty of her to say it, so Marcus could hear, but her anger had entrenched her words in spite.
She looked at Elena, who restrained a laugh.
“Perhaps that will be a new pet,” Eli added.
“Aye, there is a goatherder in the courtyard that has small cages fit for the creature,” Elena suggested.
“Then I shall see him as soon as we arrive,” Annabeth said.
She looked to Marcus and could see his jaw clench in stubborn anger. Annnabeth was grateful his friends were siding with her and making light of the situation as it should be.
The gates of the castle loomed ahead, and as they rode through, Annabeth knew that this quiet, tense ride would be nothing compared to what lay ahead. She stormed into the courtyard to fetch a small cage from the goatherder, her mood darkening with every step.
Marcus’ cold silence from the ride weighed heavily on her, and she couldn’t understand why he was so angry. He hadn’t said a word since they’d returned, not even a look, and it made her feel like a child being punished.
Once inside, she slammed the door behind her, letting out a frustrated breath.
The fox squirmed in her arms, and she gently placed it in the small cage.
She moved quickly, her hands shaking with annoyance as she set up a bed of straw for the little creature.
She focused on tending to the fox as it nuzzled its tiny face against her palm, and she cleaned and bandaged its leg.
“Daenae fash yerself little one. I shall heal ye as best I can, nay matter what the Laird of this castle thinks,” she said.
By the time the night fell, Annabeth had finished cleaning the fox’s wound and was preparing to leave her room.
She needed to give the little creature some milk, and she figured the kitchen would be the best place to find it.
Her chemise, the only thing she’d bothered to change into after the ride, flowed loosely around her, its thin fabric clinging to her skin in the cool air of the castle with a shawl draped around her.
As she walked toward the kitchen, Annabeth couldn’t help but feel exposed, even though the castle was empty at this hour. The corridors were quiet, the only sound being her soft footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
When she arrived, the kitchen was dimly lit, the flickering fire casting shadows on the stone walls.
The warmth from the hearth was a welcome comfort against the chill of the castle.
She moved toward the storage shelves, reaching for a small jug of milk, her thoughts drifting back to Marcus once again.
She couldn’t shake the image of his cold expression, and it irritated her more than she cared to admit.
“What are ye doing here, lass?” Marcus’ voice was deep.
Annabeth jumped at the sound of Marcus’ voice, his words cutting through the quiet of the kitchen like a blade. She hadn’t heard him approach, but there he stood, his tall figure casting a shadow in the doorway. She quickly turned, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to keep her composure.
“What are ye doin’, Annabeth?” he demanded, his tone sharp with frustration. “Ye dare walk the castle in what ye wear?”
“I’m gettin’ milk for the fox,” Annabeth replied, her voice steady, though a flush crept up her neck. “Ye’ve nay right to stop me. The creature’s hurt, and it needs care.” Her eyes met his with defiance, refusing to back down as her hands clenched around the milk jug.
“Ye cannae just walk around like that for the sake of a common animal,” Marcus snapped, his jaw tightening.
“It’s nae yer decision to make, Annabeth.
” He stepped closer, the heat of his anger mingling with something else she couldn’t quite place—something dangerous. “Ye put yerself in danger willingly.”
“I did nay such thing. I’ll make whatever decision I please,” Annabeth shot back, narrowing her eyes.
“I’m here to care for it, Marcus. Ye’d rather I let it suffer, then?
” Her words were laced with sarcasm, but there was a tremor in her chest, something beneath her bravado that told her the moment was different.
Marcus’ eyes darkened, the frustration and something else simmering in them.
“Ye daenae get it, do ye? I’m tryin’ to look out for ye.
This fox—this bloody creature—isnae yer responsibility!
” His voice was low, rough, and his breath came quicker as he advanced until there was no space left between them.
Annabeth’s breath hitched as he came closer, his presence overwhelming.
“Ye daeanae control me, Marcus,” she said through clenched teeth, her chest rising and falling in the silence that stretched between them.
“I’m nae one of yer men to command.” But even as she said it, her heart raced, her body betraying her words.
“Ye think ye can do whatever ye want in me castle, aye?” he murmured, his voice soft now, a dangerous tension hanging in the air.
“Maybe ye need someone to remind ye of the consequences.” He took the jug from her hand and set it down.
His hand brushed a lock of hair from her face, his fingers grazing her skin with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.
Before she could respond, Marcus leaned in, his lips crashing against hers in a fiery kiss.
Annabeth gasped, her mind momentarily blank, but then her body responded against her will, her hands gripping his waist as she kissed him back with a force she hadn’t known she possessed.
The world seemed to disappear, leaving nothing but the heat between them, a wildfire that neither of them seemed ready to extinguish.
When they finally broke apart, their breaths ragged and hearts racing, Annabeth couldn’t meet his gaze.
Her mind was a swirl of confusion and desire, and she didn’t know which part of her was more powerful—the need to push him away or the longing to pull him closer.
Marcus didn’t speak, both of them standing on the edge of something neither was ready to acknowledge.
Then the shawl slipped off her shoulders.
She watched as Marcus’ hungry eyes looked down at her chest. She could feel that her tender nipples were protruding through the material, yet she did not feel shame. She wanted him to look.
What is wrong with me? I want him.
“Do ye ken what ye do to me?” His voice was thick with lust as his eyes devoured her. “What I want to do to ye?”
Annabeth placed her arms around Marcus’ neck, her fingers brushing the back of his hair as she pulled him closer. “I ken what ye do to me, Marcus,” she whispered, her breath warm against his lips.
Marcus paused, his lips still lingering near hers. He looked into her eyes, his voice soft but sincere. “Ye’re a beautiful lass, Annabeth,” he said, his words rich with admiration.
Annabeth smiled gently, her heart fluttering at his words. “Aye, ye ken how to flatter a woman.” Her voice was hushed and full of warmth.
He groaned with a lusty whisper and kissed her again, this time deeper, his hands resting gently on her waist. “It’s nae flattery, lass,” he murmured against her lips. “It’s the truth.”
She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of him near, the closeness between them undeniable. “I cannae seem to stay away from ye,” she whispered again, her voice breathy with a hint of vulnerability.
Marcus pulled back slightly, his expression unreadable for a moment. “Then daenae,” he said firmly, his hands now holding her gently but possessively.
Annabeth’s heart raced at his words, a shiver running down her spine. “I willnae,” she whispered, her hands tightening around his neck, her lips meeting his once more, giving him permission to do as he pleased.
She felt his strong hands move down the sides of her body with his thumbs moving over taut nipples protruding through the thin material of her chemise. Her body came alive with his touch. A man had never caressed her breasts and the feeling was exquisite.
Do I let him continue? I want more, but I ken it’s wrong. Yet, I cannae stop.
Annabeth allowed Marcus to kiss her neck, his hunger was evident. As she leaned against him, she gasped as she felt his thick staff pressing against her hip.
“Aye, ’tis nay secret, I want ye, lass,” he groaned in response to her surprise.
With those words she felt his hands slip down her hips and over her bottom as he pressed her against him, rubbing against her.
Her fingers moved over his chest, feeling every inch of strength down to six pack abs that were hard as rocks.
Then she felt herself lifted as he picked her up and set her on the table.
His kiss grew deeper as his hands moved over her slim waist down to her thighs.
I want him. I desire him. Me body needs him.