Page 92 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander
“I—” She choked back a sob. “I thought ye were just goin’ to stand there and leave me to?—”
“I vowed to protect ye, even if it’s from yerself, lass.”
Damon’s words were soft, his grip burning through the sleeves of her dress, but his expression was guarded and unreadable. Something dark lingered behind his eyes.
Lilith wanted to bring up their seventh night, to remind him of what they’d shared before everything had fallen apart. But with the pain in her hand, she hesitated, her mind racing back to Ariah.
“She’s still me friend, Damon. She would never do this unprompted. She’s nae the orchestrator.”
“I ken that well enough, lass,” he sighed.
He dropped his hands and took a step back from her, and then another, putting space between them that sliced through her heart.
With each step he retreated, the distance grew by several miles.
Where is he goin’?
Concern darkened Damon’s features as she watched him watching her spiral into madness. Instead of confronting himabout it, she ran. She turned and rushed out of his study, not turning back even after hearing him call her name.
If he’s puttin’ space between us, then good. I was silly to think otherwise.
She swiped at the tears streaming down her face as she bolted down to the Great Hall, where she ran into a new kitchen maid. Her hand suddenly started throbbing, pain shooting up her arm.
“Me Lady, are ye well?”
“Can ye fetch me a bucket of ice water?”
“A bucket of ice and water, Me Lady?”
“Aye, the same!” Lilith said, her hand now clenched so tightly that she had to pry her tender fingers from the balled fist they stayed in. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she pinched her thigh to quell them this time.
What if he’s nae puttin’ space between us? What if it’s somethin’ else?
Just as the kitchen maid rested the bucket on the chair next to her, Lilith pressed her bruised knuckles against the cold surface and relaxed into the pins and needles sensation.
Why did I run?
She started swirling the water almost playfully, almost forgetting how cold Damon was toward her, almost forgetting the pain she felt in her hand and her heart.
23
Lilith half expected the festival to be a quiet affair, a simple gathering of a few wary people still recovering from Magnus’s rule, unsure of the new Laird who had taken his place. Instead, the glen bustled with life.
The market stalls from Kiel and Branloch were lining the forest edge and brimmed with freshly baked bread, bright tartans, and handcrafted wares. The smell of roast meats and honeyed treats wafted through the air, mingling with the friendly tunes of a fiddle and a bagpipe.
It should have been a welcome sight, a relief that Damon’s idea had been successful—a sign of growth and healing. But something about it all didn’t sit well with her, and she knew exactly the reason why.
At the center of it all, looking every bit the Laird he had so ruthlessly become, proudly stood Damon.
He’s performin’.
She wasn’t used to seeing him like this. He spoke so easily with the people and was taking his time at each stall. He even cracked what looked to be a genuine smile for Emma, who had happily poured him a cup of cider.
How can he just walk around as if nothin’ has happened? As if I wasnae poisoned by Ariah and she’s now locked up in the dungeons?
She couldn’t believe any of it.
This wasn’t the same man who had married her out of cold duty. This wasn’t the man who had threatened to tear apart anyone who stood against him. He wasplayingat being the Laird, and worst of all, the people seemed eager to believe it.
