Page 19 of Taken By the Exiled Laird

Noah took a moment to answer. When he did, his tone was carefully composed, but there was a dark bitterness in it that went against everything she knew of him.

"Think again, me lady," he said. "It is the Camerons who are poisonous. It is yer father who destroys everythin' he touches. The Blades have been me antidote. I only pray ye get yers before ye find yer head on a spike."

She bristled. "Was that a threat?" she snapped.

He scowled. "Ye want a threat? I⁠—"

"Enough!" Theon's voice cut across them.

Briana whirled to see him standing at the door of his cabin, a large sheet of linen wrapped around his waist to serve as a towel. She averted her eyes immediately, not wanting to see the way the dawn sun reflected on his bare, muscular chest nor the way his strong arms flexed as they moved. His face was still covered in flecks of blood as though he had stopped midway through washing.

"I'll hear nae more of this. Noah, go and clean yerself up. Briana, silence."

Her anger flared and she looked back at him, her rage overcoming her embarrassment and that now-familiar twinge of unwanted desire. "Ye dinnae give me orders."

Theon smirked, but there was no humor in it. His storm-gray eyes were dark and deadly.

"Oh, but I do," he said. "I dinnae ken when ye're gonnae understand it, but when it comes tae ye, I give all the orders. If ye want yer life, ye'll cooperate. That includes nae pickin' fights with me friends whenever yer delicate sensibilities are called intae question. Understood?"

She narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Unbidden, the image of him holding her pressed against him in the forest swam into her mind, but this time he stood as unclothed as he was now. It somehow only made him more dangerous, like a wild wolf free from its trappings at last. He could kill her in a moment, clothed or not, weapon or none.

"Did… did ye kill them all?" she asked, barely containing her mix of anger and fear and desperation. "Did ye let anyone live?"

"All of them are dead," Theon confirmed. He kept his eyes on her, unblinking. "I killed two meself. There were six in total. They didnae even have time tae beg."

Horror overwhelmed her, and when she glanced back at Noah, it swelled into a dark rage she didn't know how to control. She clenched her fists tight and turned her back on all of them, her fury sharp enough to choke.

"What did ye expect?" Theon called after her as she stormed away. "’Tis as ye say, ye're in a den of vile traitors."

She walked away without a word. It was true—they were all ruthless, terrible men. Not just Keir with his hatred of her family, but funny, cheerful Graeme, and kind, gentle Noah who had once been like a brother. Even Theon, who had once been the hope in her dreams.

All traitors. All villains. And she'd never let herself forget it again.

Chapter Eight

Briana had been cold toward them all for the past two days since the incident with the Cameron messengers, refusing to talk unless directly spoken to and turning her back at every opportunity. For Theon, it was somehow both an irritant and a relief. Her silent protest at least meant she wasn't nagging or protesting or arguing, but in its absence, he found he missed countering her criticisms. She infuriated him with her blind loyalty to her father, but then, he had been a laird's son once too.

Would he have followed his own father into the darkness? He liked to believe he wouldn't, but perhaps it was different for a young woman with such a perfect life who had little choice but to rely on her father, brother, or future husband to maintain it.

The whole thing was starting to weigh on him. Briana had been their hostage for days now, and they were no closer to using her to get what they needed. They would need to put a plan into action soon if they wanted to make any of this worth it. Grumbling to himself under his breath, he finished feeding the horses and left the stables, heading back toward the center of their little makeshift village. The clashing of swords greeted him, and the sight that waited there made his bad mood lift a little as he smiled.

Keir and Graeme sparred together next to the extinguished campfire, Graeme taunting Keir playfully as they went. The sight of his best friend's glee while sparring wasn't anything particularly new, though it always made Theon laugh, but what really warmed him was the expression on Keir's face. Though his little brother was harsh and more than capable, Theon worried about him often. Being only fifteen when the MacKenzies fell—when their parents and family and clan were destroyed—he had needed Theon's support, even if he rejected it often. Theon had frequently worried that the boy would never know joy again. But here, in this moment, Keir was laughing, grinning, and occasionally swearing with gleeful annoyance. It was enough to put a little warmth into even Theon's carefully cooled heart.

"Got ye!" Keir crowed excitedly as he moved to tap Graeme on the side with the flat of his sword. But Graeme moved in a complicated maneuver, spinning out of the way, and a second later Keir's sword was parried and Graeme's sword was pointing directly under Keir's chin. Graeme winked, and Keir cursed. "Bastard."

With a flourish, Graeme stood and bowed. "Ye'll have tae get up earlier tae beat me, wee one," he teased.

"Ye're four years older than me, ye eejit," Keir replied. He slipped back into a fighting stance. "Again."

Theon smiled and his gaze traveled around the camp. Noah was gone for the morning, off to hunt game again. It wasn't his turn, but Noah's exceptional skill with a bow meant he often volunteered to take on that task, especially when he was stressed or upset. The source of that stress and upset was here, too, and Theon's eyes landed on her as she sat on one of their carved log benches nearby.

Briana was darning her worn dress, but her eyes were on the sparring match, and there was a glint in that green gaze that was something like awe. It intrigued Theon to see it, and he wondered what he'd have to do to elicit such a reaction from her.

"Let me step in," he called to the other men before he knew what he was doing.

He shocked even himself—why did he care so much about Briana seeing what he could do? But at the same time, he wanted to prove to her that he lived up to the reputation he had built. He did not make empty threats. It wasn't about impressing her, just showing her the truth.

"Ye can fight the winner," Keir called back. "I've got tae teach Graeme a lesson first."