Page 55 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander
“Is that breakfast?” she asked, her voice softening.
“Aye,” Damon said, climbing out of bed. “I thought ye might be hungry.”
She watched as he brought the tray over and set it on the bed between them.
“Thank ye,” she murmured, any trace of irritation in her demeanor already gone.
As they ate, Damon found himself stealing glances at her. The way the sunlight filtered through the window and caught the strands of her hair made her look radiant. And though the previous night’s tension still lingered between them, he couldn’t help but feel at ease in her presence.
The ride back to the keep was uneventful at first. Damon rode beside Lilith, while Ryder trailed behind them at a respectful distance. The man still looked pale, though his determination to keep up was evident.
Damon glanced at Lilith as they approached the castle gates. “Show me the places only ye ken about,” he said suddenly.
She turned to him, her brow furrowed in surprise. “What?”
“Ye’ve lived here longer than I have,” he said. “I want ye to show me the parts of the land that are special to ye. Places that arenae in the reports or the maps.”
Lilith hesitated, her eyes searching his face for a moment before she nodded. “Hmm… all right, I ken just the place.”
They dismounted near the stables, handing the horses off to Ryder.
Lilith led Damon down a narrow path that wound through the trees, the foliage thick and vibrant around them. She moved with practiced ease, her steps confident and sure.
“This way,” she said, glancing back at him. “There’s a stream up ahead.”
But before they reached it, a shout rang out from behind them. Damon turned just in time to see a group of brigands emerge from the trees, their weapons drawn.
“Get behind me,” he barked, drawing his sword in one fluid motion.
Lilith hesitated for a moment before stepping back, her eyes wide with alarm. Ryder appeared moments later, limping slightly but holding a dagger in his hand.
“Stay with her,” Damon ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Ryder nodded, positioning himself in front of Lilith as Damon charged at the brigands. The clash of steel echoed through the forest as he met the first brigand head-on.
Damon fought with precision and power, his movements calculated and ruthless. But the fight was chaotic, and his focus wavered when he heard Lilith’s cry. He turned just in time to see her darting forward, a small blade in her hand.
“Lilith, nay!” he shouted, his voice filled with panic.
She didn’t listen. She moved with surprising agility, striking at one of the brigands who had slipped past Ryder. The man fell grotesquely after Ryder’s blade found his throat, but not before his blade slashed Lilith’s arm.
Damon saw red.
With a roar of rage, he launched himself at the remaining brigands, his strikes fueled by fury. He fought with a ferocity that left no room for mercy, cutting down anyone who dared approach him or Lilith.
When the last of them fell, he turned to find Lilith cradling her injured arm. Blood seeped through her fingers, staining the fabric of her sleeve.
“What in the hell were ye thinkin’?” he demanded, storming toward her.
She glared at him, her face pale but defiant. “I was tryin’ to help!”
“Help?” he growled, his voice rising. “Ye could’ve been killed, Lilith! Ye had nay business?—”
“I’m nae helpless, Damon,” she snapped, cutting him off. “Ryder taught me how to defend meself. Both me and Willow, actually.”
Damon’s gaze flicked to Ryder, who stood a short distance away, his expression unreadable.
“Did he now?” he asked coldly.
