Chapter 27 #2
"Well, I haven't been propositioned or kidnapped yet, so I'd say things are looking good."
"Ah, a woman with high standards," he teases, his amusement written all over his face. "Tell me, have you felt anything… unusual tonight?"
I look up at him, confused. "What do you mean?" My voice stays light, but my pulse starts to pick up. Why is every conversation I've had tonight so strange? "Not really," I add after a beat, forcing a casual shrug. "Should I have?"
"Aye, probably," he whispers. "These are the Highlands, after all. A land of mystery, especially if they have any magic in their veins."
He leans in, dropping his voice like he's telling me a secret. "And…tonight is a full moon, and the solstice. So it's the perfect condition for the unexpected."
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. Who is this guy? "Yeah, I've heard that before," I flash him a grin. "But honestly? It just makes me love this place even more."
"Of course it does," he chuckles, spinning me again with an effortless precision. "You're one of those hopeless romantics, aren't you? Always dreaming of castles, magic, and your prince charming with a white horse and a sword."
I scoff. "Castles, obviously. Magic? I wish. As for the prince…That's optional. The sword, however, is a non-negotiable. You know…just in case the prince needs to be stabbed and put in his place."
A laugh bursts from him, vibrating through the space between us.
"Shit," he chuckles, "remind me to stay on your good side."
Before I can reply, he spins me again and my breath catches when I see Kane dancing with someone else. I can tell she's beautiful even from here. She's a tall blonde, and so polished she might as well have stepped off the cover of a magazine and I can't help but stare.
His hand is resting on her back and the way they move together tells me they for sure know each other.
She leans in, says something, and he actually laughs. Not the sharp-edged sound he saves for me, or the half-smirk I've been pretending doesn't get under my skin. No—this is different. He looks…relaxed.
It's almost like the constant tension he drags around finally cracked, letting something softer slip through. My chest tightens as she runs her hand up his arm, tilting her head like she's savoring every damn smile.
And he obviously doesn't seem to mind.
A foreign pang slices through me and I refuse to call it jealousy. Why the hell should I care?
Clearly, I hate myself—because my eyes won't listen when I tell them to move on.
Something faint hits my nose and it smells like something's burning.
I look around the ballroom, but everything looks normal. No signs of a fire.
“Everything all right there beautiful?” The interruption cuts clean through the static in my head. His tone is smug enough to make me want to roll my eyes.
“Yeah,” I say quickly, waving it off. “I thought I saw a friend.”
The song ends, and he's letting me go with a bow that's way too smooth to be casual. His eyes dip, lingering a second too long on my cleavage before he looks back up at me with that smug little smirk.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening, little bird,” he murmurs, lifting my hand to brush a light kiss over my knuckles.
“Th-thank you,” I stammer, caught off guard as he disappears into the crowd.
Little bird? Who the hell was that?
I skirt along the edge of the dance floor, replaying it all like some broken record. And then there's the part I don't want to admit. The feeling I got when he touched me is still crawling over my skin.
I need to find Rachel.
The music blurs, fading under a sharp ringing that drills into my skull. Nausea spikes, my chest tightens, and the room tilts. I'm two seconds away from face-planting in front of everyone. I drag in air like that'll help and shove my way toward the back of the ballroom.
The bodies, the heat, the buzz of conversation, it’s all closing in, wrapping around my lungs like a vice. I need air.
Right now, slipping outside feels like the best damn idea I’ve ever had. The moment I step out into the garden, the cool air kisses my overheated skin, soothing the frayed edges of my nerves.
Moonlight spills across the leaves, painting everything in shades of silver and shadow, turning the world soft and still. I take a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh.
Finally.
Eventually, I find a quiet corner, tucked away from the main path. Leaning against a stone statue, I let the night press in around me. The tension in my shoulders finally loosens—until something moves at the edge of my vision.
A man glides through the garden, barely more than a silhouette against the moonlight.
I consider slipping back inside, but something makes me pause. Instead, I just stand here and watch. Smiling to myself at the thought that he’s sneaking off to meet someone under the cover of the trees.
Let’s be real, a castle garden at night? It’s practically begging for a scandalous rendezvous in the trees. But there’s something weird about the way he moves.
Instinct slams into me, and my breath evens out as I sink back into the shadows. I try not to move or breathe too loud, because I'm not really feeling too eager to be spotted.
He comes closer, and our eyes lock. Great. Just what I needed. Awkward eye contact with a stranger. I brace for him to keep walking, let it be nothing. My stomach drops, and that’s all the warning I get.
A sharp crack shatters through my skull as his elbow slams into my face.
Pain explodes through my skull, snapping my head back. White sparks detonate across my vision, and for one terrifying second, all I hear is the ringing that swallows everything else.
What the fuck?
He just… hit me. On purpose. The sharp taste of copper floods my mouth, and a spike of rage drowns out the pain.
Muscle memory snaps into place before the shock can take hold, and years of training override the spinning in my head. I whip around, fists already up. My body's already three steps ahead of my brain, which is still scrambling to catch up.
And then I see the smug fucking smirk on his lips.
He probably thinks I'm just some girl in a dress, that's an easy target. Cute. If he thinks this is going to be Taken 3.0, he's out of his damn mind.
Not tonight, asshole.
“Bet you thought I was just a pretty face, didn’t you?” My voice is laced with venom, even as my face throbs. “If you make me ruin this dress, we’re really going to have a problem.”
He doesn't drop the smirk. Not for a second. If anything, his eyes gleam with something that looks far too amused or entertained. And I hate the way I want to wipe it off his face.
Adrenaline spikes like I'm about to throw down whether I want to or not.
“Pretty things break easily,” he muses. His voice is low and condescending, dripping with something dark and slimy. “You really should’ve been more careful.”
What the fuck is this guy talking about? He steps closer and I don't hesitate. I'm not going down without a fight. My fist slams into his stomach and he folds like a lawn chair.
Where’s that cocky smirk now, asshole?
Satisfaction curls through me as his eyes widen with surprise. “I looked amazing tonight.”
He recovers fast, but I'm faster. Before he can plant his feet, I slam my knee straight into his dick, hard enough to make sure he feels it tomorrow and thinks twice before harassing women. The noise that rips out of him is half gasp, half choke, and his body curls in on itself.
“And that,” I say coldly, glaring down at him as he stumbles back. “Is for trying to ruin my night.”
For a moment, all he does is breathe. The only thing I can hear is his harsh, ragged breaths as he straightens. His eyes are dark and full of hatred.
Then his expression twists as fury bleeds into something else. Something colder.
“You’ve got no idea what you’re doing,” he growls, clutching his side. His voice is laced with warning. “None of this belongs to you.”
The words sink in, leaving no room to breathe. I don't even get a second to roll my eyes before he lunges.
He’s fast.
I move, but not fast enough. My dress catches on my foot, making me stumble, and his fist slams into my ribs.
Pain rips through my side and I stumble, my vision tunnels for a second as I fight to stay upright. This is my brutal reminder this isn't some sloppy bar fight. It's something else entirely.
My body reels as nausea and fire claw through me, but I force myself upright. Weakness here is blood in the water. My breath falters, but my hands don't drop.
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” I bite out, trying to keep my voice steady, despite the ache tearing through me.
Something flashes across his face that I almost mistake for hesitation.
“How?”
His posture shifts and just like that, his bravado shatters. His hands twitch like he’s resisting the urge to reach for something. But then, he turns and bolts. Vanishing into the shadows like a ghost.
I'm left standing here, breathless, while my ribs are screaming and my face fucking hurts like a bitch.
I press a hand against my side, wincing at the sharp throb. That’s definitely going to bruise. I'm just hoping it’s not broken. It feels like I might've broken my nose too. Great.
None of this belongs to you? What the actual fuck does that mean? Like no shit asshole, this isn’t my house.
I let out a shaky breath, still feeling the adrenaline rattling through my veins. I turn to leave, and that's when I catch my reflection in the window. The site makes me wince.
My lip is definitely split. I don't know how I'm going to hide that. The dull ache in my cheek promises I’m going to be feeling this for days. But at least my nose is still intact. That would’ve ruined my night, and been pretty hard to explain.
The faint trickle of blood near my lip makes my stomach twist, but I swallow down the feeling, straighten my shoulders, and force my mind to calm the hell down.
I will not cry over this.
Tonight was supposed to be magical and I refuse to let some deranged lunatic steal that from me.