Page 14 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander
Lilith lay on her side, her hair a tangle of rose-colored silk against the pillow. Her breathing was slow and steady, her chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. He leaned closer, his gaze lingering on her face.
Is she always such a heavy sleeper?
He resisted the urge to touch her, though the thought flitted through his mind. Instead, he straightened, reassured that she was unharmed, and quickly slipped out of the room.
Finley was crouched in the shadows across the hall, poised for attack, until their eyes met as Damon walked through the door.
“She’s safe,” Damon said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Stay here.”
Finley nodded. “I’ve let the healer ken—she’ll be expectin’ ye, Me Laird.”
“Aye. Thank ye, man.”
As Damon made his way back down the hall, the thrill from the fight completely faded away, and the weight of the night’s events settled heavily on his shoulders. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of quick footsteps.
“Damon!”
Melissa’s voice was soft yet insistent. She appeared around the corner, her dark hair unbound and her face pale with worry.
“What’s happened?” she demanded, her gaze roving over him. “The servants are whisperin’ about an intruder.”
Damon stiffened. “It’s taken care of.”
Melissa’s eyes narrowed on him. “Taken care of? Ye’re covered in blood, Damon. Is any of it yers?”
“Aye, that’s what happens when ye play with knives,” Damon said jokingly.
However, Melissa was unimpressed. “Ye cannae just dismiss this like it’s nothin’! Let me help. I can bring the healer?—”
“Nay.” His voice was firm. “This is Clan McCallum’s business, Melissa. It’s nay place for ye.”
“Then at least the healer?—”
“The healer is aware. I’ll see her when I’m done here. This isnae yer concern, Sister,” he said so sharply that Melissa stepped back from him, clearly offended.
Her lips tightened. “I’m nae a child, Damon. If someone’s threatenin’ ye, it concerns me as well.”
“For yer safety, ye need to leave,” Damon insisted, his voice softening. “I’ll send Smith up to help ye with yer things. Ye need to be at Brahanne Keep by midday.”
His tone and dark features left no room for argument.
Melissa hesitated, her frustration evident, until she recognized the resolve in his eyes.
With a resigned sigh, she nodded. “Fine, I’ll go. ButBraither, ken that I do as ye ask because I am avisitor. But as yersister, I am expectin’ a proper explanation when this is all over, as I’m sure our braither will want one as well once he’s heard.”
“I’ll send ye with a letter to give him. I’ll leave it to him to tell ye.”
Without another word, Melissa turned and walked away indignantly, her steps brisk and determined.
By the time Damon reached the grand staircase, dawn had begun to break, its light seeping through the high, stained-glass windows.
“Smith,” he said to the housekeeper, who was stationed at the bottom of the stairs.
“Me Laird?” she returned simply. Her eyes landed on the bloody spots on his tunic, almost in a confirmatory way, before meeting his again.
“Me sister will be departin’ shortly. She’ll need assistance with her things. Send three men with her. And I want the full council assembled in the war room. Now.”
“Aye, Me Laird…” she trailed off.
