Page 20 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Hellion (Auctioned Highland Brides #4)

Once Callum was in his room, he felt restless. Lydia’s scent clung to him, as if she were still there.

The gentle way she had cradled Amy in her arms and cared for the girls touched his heart. She wasn’t just caring for them when the eyes of the household were on her, either. She had ensured they were warm tonight, dressing them in their coats for stargazing.

Callum stood beside the bed, looking at the pristine sheets, imagining all the wicked things he could be doing to her if she were with him. He could hear her moving around in her room, each creak of a floorboard like a summons.

Groaning, he threw his head back, staring at the ceiling.

Why can I nae get her out of me head?

Usually, when he felt on edge, he would go down to the courtyard and spar with one of his guards.

At his grandmother’s castle, there were plenty of young men who had been terrified of him and agreed to train whenever he asked.

But everyone is asleep.

And something else was crawling beneath his skin. A sense of impending danger that he couldn’t shake.

Callum wasn’t sure why, but the darkness around the castle that night had made him uneasy. He had an overwhelming sense that something was coming. Moving to the wash basin, he splashed cold water over his face, the sting of it helping to clear his mind.

It was important that he got some rest and forced himself to sleep. He had to be sure that he was ready for whatever might befall them tomorrow.

I simply hope that I am wrong. Maybe Moira has really gone, and willnae wish to ever come back here.

But as he looked at his reflection, his own blue eyes staring back at him, the livid scars against his skin felt all the more prominent.

Growling at the back of his throat, he tugged on a jacket and turned toward the door.

If I cannae sleep, I shall make sure everyone is safe. At least then I might be able to rest easy.

Leaving his bed chamber as quietly as he could, he made his way through the dark corridors and down toward the lower hall.

Torches sizzled and flickered against the walls. As he made his way through the darkness, there was the occasional voice or footfall from the servants’ hall, but otherwise, everything was quiet.

Callum stood beside the large entrance door, listening intently, the itchy feeling beneath his skin persisting.

The castle might be quiet, but he still felt dissatisfied. He glanced toward the low window beside the door, the night pressing against the glass.

It had been a long while since he had patrolled the perimeter, but it felt like the only way he would be able to quiet his mind.

Stepping outside, he closed the door and looked up at the dark sky above. The stars were still twinkling, but they were harder to see. Lydia was right, with the torches flickering in his periphery, the brightness of the starlight was dimmed.

He inhaled deeply.

Why will that damn scent nae leave me?

He walked across the cobbled stones, his footsteps echoing around the walls, and reached the outer door.

Two guards stepped aside to let him through.

“Dinnae let anyone but me back inside,” he muttered.

“Aye, M’Laird.”

The west side of the castle looked out on the lake, and he could see it shimmering as he emerged. The surface was so still and calm that the stars were reflected there, too.

Callum began to make his way along the wall, the rough-hewn stone throwing shadows everywhere.

He remained watchful, looking through the gloom for any shadows that might be moving in an unfamiliar pattern.

But in reality, his mind was caught on that calm, clear mirror.

He imagined himself at the lake’s edge, Lydia standing beside him. Their bodies would be reflected on the surface, rippling outward as they stood beneath the wide expanse of sky.

Perhaps she would be captivated by the stars above, her attention elsewhere as he came up behind her.

Heat shot through his body at the thought of running his hands over her again.

What would it be like to take her under the night sky?

He would lay her down beside the water’s edge, her tiny body open for him, ready to be taken.

Sound traveled greater distances across the water; perhaps they would hear her moaning for him all the way to the village.

He would grip her tightly against him. Lydia would not pull away; lying, waiting for him, those beautiful green eyes reflecting the stars, lips parted on a low moan.

Lowering over her body, he would capture her lips, tasting the sweetness of her mouth before he would push his way inside her.

She would tremble, shuddering beneath him, and finally beg him to take her, rough and hard in the dark?—

Callum was wrenched from his fantasy by a movement behind him.

Spinning in place, he squinted into the shadows beside the wall, gripping the handle of his sword.

Then his shoulders relaxed.

“I cannae see ye but I ken ye’re there,” he murmured.

Slowly, Alexander emerged from the shadows. Callum’s eye ran over the myriad weapons about his person and the thick jacket over his shoulders.

“Are ye expectin’ company?” he asked gruffly, noting a third knife inside Alexander’s boot.

“Nay, M’Laird, I just always like to be prepared.”

“I didnae ask for yer company, man,” he muttered.

“I ken that, M’Laird, but me place is at yer side.”

Callum hesitated, something like happiness fluttering briefly within him at those words. “Go back to yer room, man, I dinnae need ye with me.”

“I ken that too, but I willnae be goin’ anywhere until ye are asleep.”

Callum scowled at him, but Alexander stood his ground, and after a long, drawn-out silence, Callum turned on his heel and continued in the same direction as before.

The man-at-arms soon fell into step beside him.

“What are ye doin’ out here?” Alexander asked.

“Patrolin,’ what does it look like?”

“I have the castle well manned, M’Laird.”

“Aye, what of it?”

Callum glanced at him, and in the residual light from the castle, he could see that the man’s lips were pursed, eyes narrowed with irritation.

“Dae ye think I dinnae believe ye’re doin’ yer job?” he asked, feeling faintly amused that Alexander would take his own restlessness so personally.

“Ye’ve checked the security arrangements every day for the last three, as if ye believe I willnae have protected us all. I will dae everythin’ in me power to keep ye and yer family safe.”

“I ken that.”

“Well then, why are ye checkin’ everything thrice over?” his voice rang out, angry and clear.

They stopped walking, Callum turning toward him. Alexander was looking away, his jaw clenched as he gave a heavy sigh.

“I serve ye, M’Laird. I dinnae ken how I can get it through to ye. I have always guarded this keep, and I will continue until me last breath. That hasnae changed.”

“I ken that, too,” Callum said, his voice soft in the stillness.

“Dae ye? Because ye still look at me as if ye hate me. With a few exceptions, perhaps.” He shook his head.

“I would have done anythin’ to protect ye back then.

But I had orders from me Laird, and me loyalty had to be with him.

Ye think I have slept easy these last four years after what he did to ye?

After what we now ken to be true of that woman? ”

His eyes were glinting in the half-light, mouth twisted into an angry snarl.

“I dinnae ken what I have to dae for ye to forgive me,” Alexander muttered, pulling out his knife and slicing through a long bramble that was stretching over the path, thorns pointed and sharp.

Callum stared at him, seeing the pain written across the man’s face.

“I told ye we were even,” he muttered.

Alexander scoffed. “That isnae the same. A scar for a scar appeases yer anger, it doesnae give me me best friend back.”

The silence of the night closed in around them, and Callum was transported back to their youth. They were fifteen again, a blood pact between children that they would always protect one another.

He glanced up at the castle walls. It had been almost in this exact spot that he had sworn his friendship to this man. A man who had done nothing but his duty all his life.

Despite what he had been through, Callum could recognize that Alexander was not at fault. If a man-at-arms was not loyal to his Laird, then all was lost.

Callum stepped forward.

Alexander flinched, as though anticipating a blow, and then Callum stuck out his hand.

The man-at-arms went still, staring at it as if it were some alien thing he had never seen before. Then he gripped Callum’s hand tight enough to cause pain and shook it firmly.

“I forgive ye, Alex,” Callum said sternly. “Ye have proven that ye are loyal to me.” He gripped his hand a little tighter. “But all the chances ye were given are now exhausted. If ye ever betray me again, I willnae forgive ye a second time.”

Alexander shook his head. “I willnae.”

Callum nodded once, releasing his hand as they continued walking, the soft grass covered with dew, leaving beads of water all over his skin.

“I was thinkin’ about me weddin’, too,” Callum murmured as they turned the corner.

“Aye? Are ye thinkin’ we should increase the guards?

“Aye.”

“By how many?”

“Just one.”

Alexander glanced at him, frowning. “One, M’Laird?”

“Aye. I need someone to stand beside me when I take Lydia for me wife.”

The man-at-arms said nothing, their feet falling into step beside one another.

“And who were ye thinkin’ for that?” he asked finally, his voice choking on the words.

“Tradition suggests it would be me man-at-arms, if ye’re nae too busy organizin’ the guards ye’re so keen to take charge of.”

Alexander gave a soft huff of laughter. “Ye ken I’ll stand with ye, ye bampot. It would be the greatest honor of me life.”

They came to a stop by the main entrance, the lands around them quiet and still. Somewhere in the trees, an owl hooted, a haunting sound that nevertheless brought Callum comfort with its familiarity.

Callum met Alexander’s gaze, the warmth in it returning. He would never admit that he had missed him, but it was good to have his friend back.

“Well then, we should get some sleep,” he said, his eyes moving to the horizon. “We’ll see what comes.”

“We’ll be ready, M’Laird.”