Page 64 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander
The assailant tore across the courtyard and up to the path toward the mountains. Moonlight illuminated patches of their reddish-black cloak, taunting Damon with the promise of capture.
Which clan has red and black for colors? MacCraith? Dàrchasaidh?
The distant clinking of armor and faint yells signaled that the castle guards had been roused, but Damon didn’t wait for reinforcements. He took the narrow path up the hills, each step an unrelenting pursuit.
The rocky terrain slowed him as the figure easily slipped between boulders and patches of dense trees.
He kens the land, which means he either has good intelligence or he’s from here. Which clans are nearby? There is ClanMonroich to the South, but would Ewan ever get involved in such a thing? Surely nae…
Damon’s mind reeled.
He gritted his teeth at the prospect of potentially exposing this stranger and pressed on. His determination burned brighter with every heartbeat. This wasn’t just about that message on the wall. Whoever this was had dared to threaten Lilith, and that was unforgivable.
Up ahead, a misstep from the fleeing figure sent loose gravel down the rock face and into Damon’s eyes. But he managed to close the distance between them, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword as he prepared to strike. But just as he rounded the corner of a jagged cliffside, the figure disappeared into the shadows.
Damon cursed under his breath, stopping to scan his surroundings. The faint sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention.
“They’ve vanished,” Ryder called out, emerging from the shadows, his tone laced with frustration. He was slightly out of breath but still alert. “Must’ve kenned the terrain well.”
“Indeed. I’ve nae seen any of our men run up this rock face with such ease…”
Damon glanced down at the ground, noting the disturbed dirt and broken twigs. He let out a slow, steady breath, reining in his anger.
“Did ye catch the pin at all?”
“Nay, it was too dark. I didnae get close enough,” Ryder said, scanning the area.
Damon sighed. “Damn…”
His eyes darted around for any sign of movement in the shadows of the trees. Just then, something caught his attention—a tiny, vibrant speck amidst the otherwise muted landscape.
“Would ye look at that,” he murmured, crouching down slowly.
“The pin?” Ryder asked and peered over his shoulder. “Ah, the Twinflower. Do ye ken it?”
“Twinflower?” Damon echoed as he sat down next to the hidden bloom, his eyes stuck on the pale pink, bell-shaped petals.
“Aye. The twinflower is rare to find here. I ken them well from me… lands,” Ryder explained, suddenly lost in a distant memory.
“Mmm. Nay doubt the McKenzie lands, right?” Damon said, pulling him back into the present.
Ryder hesitated before replying, “Aye, the same.”
Damon clicked his tongue and nodded thoughtfully.
This conversation was goin’ to happen, eventually. It might as well happen now.
“I grew up hearin’ about yer story, Ryder. Most of Scotland has, in fact. I dinnae ken much about the sensibilities of faithers, even me own, but as Laird, I can say with surety that ye will always be welcome here.”
“Ye dinnae have to pity me, Damon,” Ryder said simply with a lopsided smile.
Damon placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Ye kept Lilith and me sister-in-law, Willow, alive. I ken I owe ye a great deal for what ye have done for them. Ye have our gratitude, man.”
He dropped his hand.
The assailant is still out there, probably watchin’ us even now. Plottin’ their next move. But I’ll be damned if I let Lilith walk blindly into another trap.
“We’ve got some work to do,” he added, pushing himself to his feet before patting off the rock dust that had collected on his clothing.
