Page 27 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander

“How long will Finley be shadowing me?” Lilith asked.

His smile widened. “Until I am sure ye’re safe.”

Lilith groaned. “So forever, then?”

“He’s doin’ his job.” Damon shrugged. “And ye’ll thank me if he keeps ye alive.”

“Alive, yes. Sane? That’s another matter entirely.”

Damon chuckled, and for a moment, the tension between them seemed to ease. But then his expression turned serious again, and Lilith braced herself.

“One last question,” he said, his voice quieter now. “What’s the worst thing Magnus ever did to ye?”

The air seemed to grow still, the weight of his words pressing down on her. Her hand tightened around her glass. She knew he was asking out of more than curiosity—there was genuine concern in his eyes, a protectiveness she hadn’t expected.

But she couldn’t answer. She wouldn’t.

Without a word, she lifted her glass and took a long sip of whiskey.

When she set it down, Damon’s expression was a storm of emotions—anger, frustration, and something deeper, more primal. His jaw clenched, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped his glass. For a moment, Lilith thought he might explode, but then he exhaled sharply, reining himself in.

“Fair enough,” he allowed, his voice tight. “But if ye ever decide to tell me, I’ll listen.”

Lilith nodded, her chest tight with a mix of gratitude and guilt. She didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on her, as if he were silently vowing to protect her from whatever ghosts haunted her past.

The fire crackled, filling the silence between them.

Lilith looked away, unable to meet his eyes any longer. She wasn’t ready to let him in—not yet.

“To honesty,” he said, raising his glass.

Lilith hesitated, then clinked her glass against his. “To honesty,” she echoed, even as she wondered if either of them would ever truly embrace it.

They drank in silence, the fire crackling in the background, and for the first time in days, Lilith felt a flicker of hope.

Damon rose from the table after finishing his glass. “I will be leavin’ this week. I must see to the borders with the men. Finley will stay here with ye. I trust ye to deal with the staff—ye ken them all well.”

Lilith nodded her head absentmindedly, not taking her eyes off the smoldering fire.

He left her chambers shortly after. His intoxicating scent lingered in the room, leaving her in a haze as she drifted off to sleep.

7

The morning light streamed through the castle windows as Lilith sat with Ariah in the solarium, the faint scent of lavender and mint drifting through the air. The week had gone by in a blur of unanswered and unasked questions, the more prominent one being,Where is he?

Ariah, ever the picture of blatant curiosity, leaned closer with a sly smile.

“So,” she began, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Did ye and the Laird…” she trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.

Lilith blinked, setting down the embroidery she had been pretending to work on. “Did we what?”

“Ye ken,” Ariah whispered, her tone conspiratorial. “Consummate the marriage?”

Lilith nearly choked on her breath, her cheeks reddening. “Ariah!”

“What?” Ariah laughed, unabashed. “It’s a fair question. Ye are married now. Surelysomethingmust have happened.Surelyyer husband has stirred something within ye?”

Lilith groaned, leaning back in her chair. “The only thing Damon has managed to stir within me is frustration.Endlessfrustration.”