Page 88 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander
“Approved.”
More and more requests came, and each time, Damon simply nodded, barely registering the details. His mind was elsewhere, trapped in an endless loop of his failures.
Lilith was in danger because of him. Because he had chosen her. Because he had thrust her into this situation without fully grasping the threat it posed to her. He had failed to see the vipers in his den—had allowed betrayal to fester beneath his nose.
The only way to protect her now is to distance meself from her.
The thought was a dagger to his chest, but he knew it to be true. Being near her made her a target. And no matter how much it pained him, no matter how much he wanted to be by her side, to hold her, to hear her voice, he had a duty.
To his clan.
To his wife.
And if that meant pushing her away, then so be it.
22
Lilith woke up to warmth surrounding her, the scent of damp stone and herbs lingering in the air. Her head pounded dully, and her limbs felt heavy, but as she blinked away the haze, her eyes landed on a familiar figure slumped in the chair beside her bed.
Damon.
He was asleep, his head bowed, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Even in slumber, his brow was furrowed, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a faint groan escaped, the sound barely above a whisper.
Damon’s body tensed up instantly. His eyes shot open, sharp and alert, scanning the room until they found her face. Relief flooded his features, but it was brief, vanishing behind a guarded expression.
“Lilith?” His voice was hoarse as he reached for her, his fingers ghosting over her wrist as if to reassure himself that she was real. “How do ye feel?”
“Like I’ve been trampled by a herd of horses,” she muttered, attempting to sit up, only for a wave of dizziness to hit her.
Damon was there in an instant, his strong hands steadying her.
“Easy,” he murmured, adjusting the pillows behind her. “Ye’ve been unconscious since last night.”
The memories came back slowly—dinner, the warmth in her chest, the moment she’d been about to tell him she loved him, and then… nothing.
“What happened?”
Damon hesitated, his jaw clenching. “Ye were poisoned.”
The words sent a chill through her.
“Poisoned?” She searched his face, her heart pounding. “By who?”
His silence spoke volumes. Someone close to her. Someone who had access to the food.
“Smith?”
Damon refused to acknowledge the guess, which was enough to tell her that it was wrong.
“Nae Ryder, nae Smith…”
Her eyes widened and met his, disgust on the tip of her tongue as the realization hit her.
“Nay,” she whispered. “Nae Ariah.”
Damon gave a slow nod. “Aye.”
Lilith sucked in a sharp breath. It felt impossible. Ariah was her friend. More than that, she was her closest companion, the one she had trusted above all others.
