Page 39 of A Healer for the Obsessed Highlander
I want to kiss her. To have her. Take her.
“Aye, I’m stubborn, and ye’ve got a problem with that, daenae ye?” she shot back. “Perhaps ye just daenae like that I’m nae afraid to stand up to ye, Laird.”
He opened his fingers as she pulled her arm away. She whispered soft words to the fox she held and walked away. The tension between them hung thick in the air as they walked back to the stable, each step heavy with unsaid words and unspoken desires.
“Stubborn lass,” he muttered.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The ride back to the castle was stiff with tension. Annabeth could feel the weight of Marcus’ disapproval of the fox nestled in her arms, its tiny body trembling slightly from its injury. He didn’t say anything, but she could tell by the way his jaw clenched that he was seething inside.
How dare he try to rule me?
The anger flared in her chest again, but there was a strange tug of confusion mixed in with it.Everytime he spoke to her in that stern tone, something deep within her stirred, a kind of yearning she couldn’t quite explain.
His voice, when it was firm and commanding, ignited a fire she didn’t know she could feel, and yet, the very same voice made her want to push back, to defy him with every fiber of her being.
“’Tis a bonnie thing,” Elena said riding up next to Annabeth.
“Aye, tis. It’s fragile and injured. I mean to heal it,” Annabeth said.
“Such a thing is in yer nature. I ken that more than anyone,” Elena smiled.
“Thank ye for sayin’ that. I appreciate it,” Annabeth said loudly. She knew it was petty of her to say it, so Marcus could hear, but her anger had entrenched her words in spite.
She looked at Elena, who restrained a laugh.
“Perhaps that will be a new pet,” Eli added.
“Aye, there is a goatherder in the courtyard that has small cages fit for the creature,” Elena suggested.
“Then I shall see him as soon as we arrive,” Annabeth said.
She looked to Marcus and could see his jaw clench in stubborn anger. Annnabeth was grateful his friends were siding with her and making light of the situation as it should be.
The gates of the castle loomed ahead, and as they rode through, Annabeth knew that this quiet, tense ride would be nothing compared to what lay ahead. She stormed into the courtyard to fetch a small cage from the goatherder, her mood darkening with every step.
Marcus’ cold silence from the ride weighed heavily on her, and she couldn’t understand why he was so angry. He hadn’t said a word since they’d returned, not even a look, and it made her feel like a child being punished.
Once inside, she slammed the door behind her, letting out a frustrated breath. The fox squirmed in her arms, and she gently placed it in the small cage. She moved quickly, her hands shaking with annoyance as she set up a bed of straw for the little creature. She focused on tending to the fox as it nuzzled its tiny face against her palm, and she cleaned and bandaged its leg.
“Daenae fash yerself little one. I shall heal ye as best I can, nay matter what the Laird of this castle thinks,” she said.
By the time the night fell, Annabeth had finished cleaning the fox’s wound and was preparing to leave her room. She needed to give the little creature some milk, and she figured the kitchen would be the best place to find it. Her chemise, the only thing she’d bothered to change into after the ride, flowed loosely around her, its thin fabric clinging to her skin in the cool air of the castle with a shawl draped around her.
As she walked toward the kitchen, Annabeth couldn’t help but feel exposed, even though the castle was empty at this hour. The corridors were quiet, the only sound being her soft footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
When she arrived, the kitchen was dimly lit, the flickering fire casting shadows on the stone walls. The warmth from the hearth was a welcome comfort against the chill of the castle. She movedtoward the storage shelves, reaching for a small jug of milk, her thoughts drifting back to Marcus once again. She couldn’t shake the image of his cold expression, and it irritated her more than she cared to admit.
“What are ye doing here, lass?” Marcus’ voice was deep.
Annabeth jumped at the sound of Marcus’ voice, his words cutting through the quiet of the kitchen like a blade. She hadn’t heard him approach, but there he stood, his tall figure casting a shadow in the doorway. She quickly turned, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to keep her composure.
“What are ye doin’, Annabeth?” he demanded, his tone sharp with frustration. “Ye dare walk the castle in what ye wear?”
“I’m gettin’ milk for the fox,” Annabeth replied, her voice steady, though a flush crept up her neck. “Ye’ve nay right to stop me. The creature’s hurt, and it needs care.” Her eyes met his with defiance, refusing to back down as her hands clenched around the milk jug.
“Ye cannae just walk around like that for the sake of a common animal,” Marcus snapped, his jaw tightening. “It’s nae yer decision to make, Annabeth.” He stepped closer, the heat of his anger mingling with something else she couldn’t quite place—something dangerous. “Ye put yerself in danger willingly.”
