Page 36 of Claimed by the Ruthless Highlander (Taming the Highland Devils #2)
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
" C aiden, where's Maisie?" Norah asked softly. "I havenae seen her in a while, and the bairns miss her," she added, glancing at Arran and Hugh playing nearby.
Caiden's hands froze mid-task, his eyes darkening as he replied with a strained voice.
"I let her go," he said, each word clipped and heavy.
Norah nodded slowly, absorbing his answer without pressing further. There was a tense silence, broken only by the distant laughter of the children.
"Why?" Norah asked gently. "It's clear ye care for her," she added, her gaze steady on his face.
Caiden scoffed, a bitter edge to his tone as he leaned back against the table. "Ye ken better than anyone, Norah, how cruel I and me family can be," he said, the words tasting like ash.
Norah's eyes softened with understanding, though her voice held a hint of sadness.
"Aye, ye're a stern master, Caiden, and so is yer family," she admitted quietly.
"But I've seen ye with those ye care for, and ye are never cruel to them," she continued, her tone even but firm.
Her words lingered in the air, a reminder of the man he could be when he allowed himself to care.
She took a small step closer, her gaze unwavering as she pressed her point.
"Think on this, Caiden. Do ye truly want to lose her?
" she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.
"Maisie is a fine lass, beautiful and clever, and soon enough she will have someone seekin' her hand in marriage," she added, her words a quiet warning.
Caiden's chest tightened, his jaw clenching with a possessive fire he could neither hide nor control.
"Especially after ye took her. Her folk might think it wise she go under the protection of a husband to save her honor," she continued.
His fingers curled into fists at his sides, the air around him seeming to thrum with a dangerous energy.
"Damn ye, Norah!" he growled, his voice low and fierce. A dark heat rose within him, a mixture of anger and unacknowledged desire that made his pulse quicken.
Without another word, he turned sharply and stormed away, leaving Norah standing quietly, the echo of his fury following him.
The sound of his boots pounding against the stone floors mirrored the turmoil roiling inside him.
Every step carried a bitter possessiveness, a fear that he had lost something he could never replace.
His mind raced with images of Maisie, the warmth of her presence, the defiance in her eyes.
He reminded himself again and again that letting her go was for the best, yet a part of him seethed at the thought of her with another.
I would kill anyone that touched her.
Caiden's shoulders were tense as he reached the outer gallery, his gaze sweeping the horizon as if searching for her silhouette.
He cursed himself inwardly, the weight of his own heartache pressing down with a suffocating force.
The very thought of Maisie becoming someone else's compelled him to move faster, yet reason held him back.
He knew he could not chase her, no matter how much he wanted to, and that truth only stoked the fire in his chest.
By the time he paused, leaning against the cold stone balustrade, his hands trembled slightly with restrained fury. The wind whipped through the towers, carrying with it a chill that matched the storm of emotions raging inside him.
Caiden closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to quell the dark possessiveness that had surged the moment Norah spoke. But deep down, he knew the battle within him was far from over, and Maisie's absence gnawed at him relentlessly.
He turned away from the wind and made his way back toward the castle, each step heavy with frustration and longing. His mind replayed her every glance, her every word, and he could not deny how much he wanted her near.
Norah's words lingered like a shadow, reminding him of what he had done, what he had lost, and what he would do to protect her, even from himself. Caiden knew, with a cold certainty, that Maisie was never truly safe from the pull of his dark, unyielding heart.
His thoughts were consumed by Maisie, the memory of her laughter, her defiance, and the warmth she brought even to the coldest corners of his heart.
He realized, with a sharp pang, that he could no longer bear her absence; he wanted her at his side, no matter the cost. The decision crystallized in his mind.
I will go to her. I will fetch her back and see that she remains safe with me. I will be the protection she needs.
He paced the length of his chamber, each step echoing with purpose.
For too long he had allowed his darker tendencies to rule, pushing away the one person who had managed to pierce the walls around his heart.
Now, for Maisie, he would subdue the shadows within himself, focus solely on her, and protect her from the cruel fate that seemed always to follow him.
The thought of holding her close, of seeing her smile without fear, strengthened his resolve.
Caiden moved to his wardrobe and began pulling items into a pack, a cloak to shield him from the elements, and provisions for the journey ahead.
His hands were methodical, but his mind raced, rehearsing every step of the path he would take to reach her.
Each item packed was a promise to himself, a vow that he would not falter until Maisie was safely returned.
The room felt charged, the air heavy with the anticipation of what was to come.
He descended the stairs swiftly, each footfall deliberate, and stepped into the cool air of the courtyard. His horse, a sleek and powerful beast, was already being saddled by the stable hands at his command.
Caiden's jaw tightened as he mounted, his eyes burning with determination, ready to ride for the one person who had captured his heart completely.
"Laird," Eric's voice stopped Caiden as he mounted his horse.
"Aye?" Caiden said.
"The guard I set on Fowler, Laird… he's lost him, sir," Eric said, bowing slightly.
Caiden's eyes narrowed, a dark fire igniting within them, and he rose from his chair, every muscle taut with anger.
"Lost him? Nay, we will scour every room, every corridor, and the castle grounds if need be until that scoundrel is found!"
He strode with heavy steps toward the servant quarters, Eric following closely. The corridor smelled faintly of candle wax and dust, the silence only adding to Caiden's rising fury.
When he reached Fowler's bedchamber, the door creaked open under his force, revealing a room stripped bare. Every item—clothes, personal effects, even small trinkets—was gone, and Caiden's jaw tightened as rage coiled in his chest.
"Blast him," he muttered under his breath, scanning the room for any clue, any sign that might lead him to the treacherous butler. His mind raced, imagining the consequences if Fowler had conspired with someone to harm those he cared for.
The thought of betrayal gnawed at him, his temper darkening with each passing second.
"Eric," he barked, "search the kitchens, the corridors, the stables! If he hides, he hides nowhere in this castle!"
A sudden voice called his name, trembling and urgent, and Norah appeared at the doorway, her eyes wide and panic-stricken.
"Caiden… it's Arran… he's gone!" she cried, clutching the edge of the doorframe for support.
Her face was pale, her small hands shaking as she spoke, and Caiden felt his heart drop to his stomach. Every thought of anger and betrayal instantly turned to ice-cold fear, his mind flashing to the worst possible outcomes.
"Arran… gone?" Caiden's voice was low, tight, but trembling with suppressed terror. "Tell me exactly what ye mean, Norah. Where did ye last see him?" he demanded, his tone sharp but laced with dread, his eyes scanning every corner of the hallway.
"I was… I was in the garden," she gasped, voice quivering, "and I brought Hugh inside, and Arran… he was supposed to follow, but he's nae here, Caiden! I've searched every room, the kitchens, for one hour now, and I've called for him, but he's vanished!"
Her voice broke on the last word, and her fear poured into every syllable. Caiden felt a hollow ache in his chest as the reality of her words hit him.
He ran a hand over his face, his mind racing with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. The castle seemed suddenly suffocating, every shadow a potential hiding place, every corridor a potential danger.
"Norah," he said, his voice steadier but firm, "we do nae waste a second. I will find him. He will be safe. Mark me, lass, I swear it."
Norah's eyes filled with tears, and she nodded, clutching his arm as if his strength could shield her from the panic.
"Please… Caiden… find him," she whispered, her voice trembling.
The blood in his veins seemed to freeze, the weight of responsibility heavier than any sword or battle he had faced.
With a single motion, he turned, his cloak swirling around him, and barked to Eric, "Gather every man! Search high, search low! Fowler or nae, we find Arran before the night ends, but it is possible that we may find both together if Fowler is as treacherous as we believe him to be."
The castle, usually quiet and orderly, erupted into controlled chaos as men ran to and for, torches lighting the hallways, their shouts echoing against the stone walls.
Caiden's eyes darted from corridor to corridor, every muscle taut, his heart thundering. Fear clawed at his chest, but it fueled him, sharpened his senses, and solidified his resolve.
Arran will be found, and woe to any soul who dared harm the boy under me watch.