Page 49 of Taming the Highland Beauty

Gille, Minerva, and Lady Janet exchanged terrified glances. Oberon turned to Gille. “I must say I underestimated your determination.” He shrugged. “But I cannot let you succeed.”

“Why? Why does my life even matter to you? I am not the first person who has ever challenged you and won, however temporarily.”

His gaze narrowed and he raised his hand to strike her. “Do you see any of the others still alive?”

Gille’s eyes filled with a fierce resolve. “You may have taken the parchment,” she declared, her voice trembling slightly, “but I memorised the words.”

Oberon, his face contorted with a cruel smile, laughed. “Those words will do you little good when I am through with you. You are nothing more than a mere speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. You will never defeat me.”

Gille refused to be intimidated. She straightened, challenging him. “Your powers might be stronger than mine, and far more varied, but I have something you do not. The power of love and hope on my side. And that, Oberon, is a force more powerful than any dark magic you can wield.”

He laughed. “We shall see about that.”

Before Oberon could strike, Callum burst through the trees, his sword drawn. “Leave her alone,” he shouted, charging towards Oberon.

At the sight of Callum, relief and joy filled Gille. He was safe. His face was shadowed with fatigue and pain pulled at the corners of his eyes, but he was alive.

Her joy evaporated a heartbeat later as Oberon summoned a weapon before Callum’s came down, blocking his strike. The violence in Oberon’s gaze told her one thing—the fairy king meant to kill Callum.

She had to do something. It was then she remembered the dagger Callum had given her, the one secreted against her thigh. She drew the weapon and, her heart in her throat, Gille waited for Oberon to draw back, then she lunged forward.

Before his blade made contact and Gille could strike, Minerva launched herself at Oberon, the seal’s head striking the fairy king with a force that sent him tumbling into the water.

The other seals, sensing an opportunity, surrounded Oberon, their bodies forming a barrier around the fairy king. Oberon’s angry cries echoed through the falling darkness as, with a concerted effort, the seals pushed him away from the shore, propelling him out into the deeper waters.

As Oberon disappeared, Minerva turned to Gille. “What were you trying to do? Get yourself killed?”

“I was trying to help Callum.”

Callum sheathed his weapon as their gazes met and locked. For a timeless moment, she stared into the depths of his dark eyes and felt a rush of warmth tease her cheeks. Whenever he drew near, she could not look anywhere but at him. Her heart fluttered as he pulled her close and brushed his lips across her forehead. “Promise me you will never do that again,” Callum insisted, his voice firm.

Gille pulled back, her expression hardening. “Try to defend you?” she countered, her tone laced with a hint of accusation.

“Attack your enemy before I can teach you how to defend yourself properly,” Callum added, as though they had all the time in the world.

“I would like to learn how to wield a dagger effectively,” Gille replied, her voice filled with determination.

“Not against me, I hope,” Callum teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Not anymore. Unless I deserve it.” But she sensed the underlying tension beneath his words. “Oberon is not an enemy to take on without some skill.”

Gille raised her chin and shifted her gaze between Minerva and Callum. “Oberon has grown accustomed to women, both fae and human, not resisting when challenged. And he might have been right at one time. Most of us have submitted tamely. We did not know how to fight back. I do not want that to be me. Not anymore. When he shows himself next time, I want to be ready to defend myself.”

“I can teach you some defensive moves against assailants who are larger and stronger than you,” Callum replied, his tone softening.

Gille’s eyes widened. She hadn’t really expected him to agree with her. “The mere idea of being able to defend myself effectively against Oberon makes me feel more in control,” she admitted.

Callum gave her a slow smile as he appraised her from head to toe. “The thought of learning how to wreak mayhem makes you glow. What an extraordinary woman you are, Gille,” he said, his voice filled with admiration.

“Not special, just realistic,” Gille replied, her lips set in a grim line. “I sense Oberon is not through with us tonight. The next time we meet, it will be in a battle to the death. We must be ready.”

Callum nodded. “At midnight, Minerva can change into her selkie form. We have until then to prepare.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Gille and Callum stood facing each other on the shores of the loch while the others prepared for the pending celebration. Gille smiled when Callum, his muscles rippling beneath the thin fabric of his muslin shirt, held a wooden stick in his hands. She gripped a similar weapon. He would teach her to fight, but not with real weapons until he was certain of her skill. So, sticks would have to do.

“Remember,” Callum instructed, his voice firm but gentle, “it is not about brute strength. It is about using your agility and quickness to your advantage.”

Gille nodded, her eyes focused on Callum. She took a deep breath and lunged forward, her stick raised. Callum parried her attack with ease, his movements fluid and precise.