Chapter 17
Lily knew she had to get out of his castle. A day ago, she had felt stifled by the incessant pressure building inside her. It had made her want to scream and rage. But now as the heavy gusts of wind ruffled her hair and chilled her skin, she felt alive.
Killian hadn’t said a word to her since the start of their journey. Wehnthor was hours away, and she did not know what lay there. She had promised to fight with him, and she intended to do so.
It was hours before they arrived at Wehnthor. Lily’s heart ached the moment she saw the chaos. Smoke from recent fires put out by the rain still curled up to the blackened skies.
She saw children cuddled up against crying mothers and bodies scattered across the fields. Some men hurried to put out burning flames, and others helped the wounded off the ground.
In all her years, she had never witnessed anything like this. Tears filled her eyes as the sobs and wails erupting from the corners lingered in the sky. She looked over her shoulder at Killian, and saw him dismount his horse and walk towards the field with steady steps.
She was drawn to him, so she jumped off her saddle and approached, slowly taking in the sight before them before she got to his side.
“This is my fault… I should have paid closer attention to the people here,” Killian said in a pained voice as his eyes scanned their surroundings.
“For decades, they have suffered at the mercy of the Northern clans. They starve, lose their loved ones and their lives as if they mean nothing. I gave up my place as laird to my brother so I could help them, but there was very little I could do against the other clans. After my brother’s death, I have been more focused on revenge than caring for these people… the people who actually need me.”
Lily’s heart ached for him as he spoke, and she boiled with the need to offer him comfort no matter how little. “This is not your fault, Killian,” she whispered to him in a shaky voice and covered his hand with hers. “You are here now. We will help your people together.”
Killian looked to his side and met her gaze. As they stared at each other, the magnetic pull between them drew her closer to him. Lily was lost in his eyes, and also in the swirl of emotions taking over her heart.
The sudden sound of a horse’s hooves cut through their moment, and Lily sprang apart from him. She turned to see a black stallion heading in their direction, and she drew her sword in preparation.
“It is Fletcher,” Killian told her once the rider drew near. “My man-at-arms.”
The rest of the men he had ridden here with stood in line. Fletcher bowed when he got off his saddle, then looked from Lily to Killian.
“M’laird, I have received word of another attack from our men in the borders. I believe Laird McLennan has sent more men here to Wehnthor to attack.”
Killian frowned. “Are ye sayin’ this raid was not done by the Northern clans?”
“Nay this time, m’laird… This was done by Laird McLennan—”
“No,” Lily cut in, shaking her head as she faced Killian. “Remember what I told you. Duncan—Laird McLennan—would not do a thing like this. I know him, and I trust him… He would not kill so many innocents just to get back at you for taking me.”
Tension ebbed out of Killian as he glanced at her, and she could tell he was torn between trusting her—a stranger and captive he had taken from his enemy’s clan—or his trusted adviser.
“M’laird,” Fletcher began again. “I have proof that this is Laird McLennan. They were wearing his clan colors. If ye check the bodies—some of our enemies lay dead amongst them—ye shall see this for yerself.”
Killian’s jaw hardened. “We dinnae have the time to argue right now. We must protect the people here first,” he finally spoke. “I want one of these men captured alive. I shall interrogate him myself.”
Lily and Fletcher exchanged hard looks as Killian marched away from them and towards his army and spoke to them in rapid Gaelic.
Lily was ready, too, and when Killian returned to her side, he gave her one hard look, his eyes not leaving hers as he said, “Be careful.”
“You too,” she returned, meaning every word, as her breath snagged in her throat just from the thought of him dying in battle.
Lily didn’t like the terrifying shudder that wracked her body at the possibility.
His eyes raked over her one last time, and she expected him to simply turn away as his jaw hardened. Instead, he slid his right hand to the nape of her neck and drew her into him.
Killian’s hot breath fell on her face as he dipped his head as if he was about to kiss her. Lily’s eyes widened, and she held his gaze, holding her breath in hopes that he would kiss her.
Yes! She wanted his kiss… she craved it. Killian ought to know that.
His lips curved into a wicked grin when she sighed and parted her lips in anticipation of his kiss. Her entire body warmed, and the sweet ache between her thighs intensified.
“Nae until ye ask for it,” Killian said to her in a gravelly, hoarse voice before he kissed her forehead instead, and then hurried away from her.
The skin on her forehead tingled, and the sensation crept through the rest of her body. A kiss on the forehead was still a kiss. Only, it was a different kind.
A flutter erupted deep in the pit of her stomach, and she nearly forgot to breathe. Lily was still stunned some minutes after that till she heard the first loud cries of men rushing forward in attack.
A rush of energy surged through her as she charged into battle. She fought her way through the crowd of men, taking down anyone who came at her.
Killian was right. It was her first time in a real battle, and nothing could have prepared her for the numbing onslaught of terror mingled with the desperation to stay alive. Nothing else felt more intense than the blinding need to survive.
When Lily spotted one man lifting his sword above his head to strike Killian, she rushed to him, stuck the pointy edge of her blade into his gut, then pulled it out as he dropped to the ground.
Killian and Lily only exchanged knowing nods after that, and then he slithered away from her again. Her blood roared in her ears and pumped with harsh intensity.
It was blood and chaos. Even the skies released an outpour to mark their anger.
Lily slowly began to feel the tiny sprouts of exhaustion set in when one enemy delivered a heavy blow to the side of her head.
The impact knocked the wind out of her. Her lungs caved and gave way for the tiny yelp that tore out of her lips.
Blinding lights erupted in her vision as the ache spread. She felt warm liquid slide down her temple and her cheek, and she touched it, lifting her fingers to find that it was her blood.
“Lily!” Killian screamed from somewhere in the middle of the mayhem around them, but her vision blurred, so she could not see him. She managed to cut down her attacker, then spun around in a circle to find him.
“Are ye all right? Are ye…” Killian touched her head as she swooned on her feet again.
Through the tiny shreds of her consciousness, Lily spotted a cloaked man with his arrow drawn a distance away from the army of men fighting each other.
Her eyes widened as she gasped, realization hitting her as he pulled the drawstring and fired. She tried to scream, but her voice failed her. Killian’s desperate words as he touched her head faded into the distance. All she could think of in that one second was saving him.
With the rest of her strength, she twirled him around in slow motion, shielding his body with hers so the arrow pierced right through her torso.
“Lily!” Killian roared as Lily coughed, blood sputtering out of her lips. He yelled more words in Gaelic… words she could not understand. But Lily found them incredibly seductive as they tumbled out of his lips.
Her knees gave way, and she crumbled to the ground. Killian knelt with her, cradling her close. “Nay, nay… Lily, please… dinnae die,” he cried out, his distressed voice slowly fading away.
Lily had a lot to say to him, but there was no time. The pain enveloped her senses, and the dizziness offered comfort, drawing her into oblivion, where all she had was a wish that she had kissed him one last time.