Page 31 of Taken By the Exiled Laird

Their lips brushed together in the lightest peck, but before Briana could even consider what she was doing, they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

They sprung apart, and when Briana saw Keir approaching, she put as much distance between herself and Theon as she could. She dipped her head to avoid Keir's glare and muttered something about having to put her dress away, then hurried to the cabin she'd been sharing with Theon.

Behind her, she heard Keir and Theon speak.

"Is it done?" Keir asked abruptly. "The letters?"

"Aye," Theon replied. "Enough of it now. Help me get this horse tae the stables. I need tae tell ye about what happened with the MacFarlane men. We'll have tae lay low for a while."

"I think—" But the rest of Keir's sentence was cut off as the door to the cabin closed behind Briana and she was alone inside.

She hung the dress carefully over the rail, wondering idly what Keir had meant about letters, but finding she didn't really care. Her lips had been touched by a butterfly's wings, and until morning came, she intended to enjoy the feeling.

Just for now, she'd let herself live her dreams.

Chapter Thirteen

Theon had never worked harder than he did the following morning as he tried to make the porridge perfectly. He had only slept a few hours, and even those had been restless, tossing and turning until he gave up and went out to run for a few hours until sunrise. He'd returned and briefly bathed in the stream before starting on breakfast. He was sure it was nothing, nothing at all, that had him feeling this way—impatient, on edge, excited and nervous, guilty and free, all of those and nothing at all.

"It actually smells good over here," Graeme said with exaggerated surprise as he appeared at the cookfire, swinging himself down onto the log beside Theon. "When did ye learn tae cook? Have ye been spendin' so much time with our fair lady?"

"She's nae ours. She's nae anyone's," Theon replied sharply, not thinking before the words came out. He instantly cursed himself. What was it about Briana that made him lose the composure he'd worked for so many years to build?

But if Graeme thought it was strange, he didn't feel the need to comment. Instead, he helped himself to a bowl of porridge. "I was hopin' that ye'd come back with some fresh supplies from the village, but never mind. Did ye do what ye went for? Seemed a bit strange tae me that ye took her with ye, tae be honest."

Theon's gut twisted. "I made sure the notes were sent, if that's what ye're askin'," he said, speaking a little too quickly. "The MacFarlanes attacked us, but it was all part of the plan, ye ken. I even made sure they saw the lass so that MacFarlane and Cameron both ken that she's alive. Things are goin' ahead as planned."

Graeme took a spoonful of porridge and said nothing, narrowing his eyes slightly. Theon looked away, hoping that his friend hadn't noticed the expression on his face. He was overcompensating and he knew it—and if anyone was able to notice, it would be his best friend. But Graeme didn't say anything, and before any awkward questions could arise, Keir and Noah arrived. Noah grinned, placing a bag down in front of them, and Theon raised an eyebrow.

"What do ye have there?" he asked.

"While ye were off doin' whatever it is ye were doin' in yer angry mood, I went foragin'," Noah said proudly. He opened the bag and revealed berries and a small jar of honey. "Though it smells like ye actually didnae burn the porridge today, Theon. What happened tae ye in that wee village? Did a woman catch yer eye?"

He said it lightly, but Theon gave him a sharp look. What did Noah suspect? Or was he simply being paranoid to assume that his friend suspected anything? Frustrated at himself, he started spooning porridge into bowls, trying to pull his attention back into the kind of focus that he was used to. This scattered sense in his mind was tearing him apart, and the sooner Briana was out of his life the better, even if the thought of it made his heart clench.

Briana joined them soon after, and when Theon looked up, it was like seeing the sun for the first time. She wore the new dress he'd picked for her, and he had to force himself not to react, clenching his jaw and staring down at the ground in front of him. The dress fit perfectly, hugging her curves and displaying enough skin to be appealing while remaining modest. The green really did match her eyes perfectly, and combined with her braided hair, it made him think of the stories of the forest goddesses from his childhood. She was more than just beautiful. She was glorious. Theon had wanted women before, but he had never felt the urge that filled him now, the desperate need to move close to her, to hold her, to touch her, to make her smile and laugh and sigh. She was going to drive him insane.

"Good mornin'," she greeted, sitting between Graeme and Noah, carefully avoiding Keir but casting a smile at Theon. "May I have some porridge? It smells really good."

Theon grunted and filled a bowl, holding it out toward her without a word. She took it with thanks, but before she could take a bite, Noah held out a small plate with oatcakes slathered with honey and topped with those fresh, colorful berries.

"I remembered ye favored a sweet breakfast, me lady," he said brightly. "So I got some for ye. I hope it makes ye smile."

Briana blinked, astonished, then clapped her hands together in delight. The porridge sat by her side, forgotten, as she gleefully bit into the oatcake. "Oh, Noah!" she exclaimed. "It's delicious. Thank ye so much, this is so kind!"

That dark growl returned in full force, threatening to burst out of Theon's chest. His fist flexed and he glared at Noah so intensely he was surprised the other man didn't burst into flames. Irritated by Noah, by Briana, and mostly by himself, he grunted out some excuse and got to his feet, abruptly storming away toward their training area, leaving the others to their meal and their laughter. It suddenly all tasted sour to him.

Panting and sweating from the effort, Theon jogged over to the tree and yanked his three knives from the target before returning to the spot. He'd almost hit the center with all three knives, but almost wasn't good enough when life and death were on the line. His blood churned restlessly, the anxiety and anger and shame and guilt flaming inside of him, and every time he threw another knife, he tried to throw himself with it.

He sensed her before she spoke. He hadn't heard her approach, and nor did she cast any particular shadow or sound, but he knew she was there anyway. He was certain now that he'd know Briana was close no matter how much time passed between them. It felt like she may never leave him, for better or for worse.

"What do ye want?" he demanded in a cold grunt. He heard her step back, and his annoyance heightened. Why was he speaking to her this way? He should apologize. Nevertheless, he didn't turn around, keeping his back to her, because he thought if he met those damned green eyes he might crumble. Anyway, if he kept being cold to her, chances are she'd storm away.

But she didn't. Not this time.

"I want tae try," she said. She stepped forward until she stood at his side, the fae queen in the forest in all her glory, and held out an expectant hand. "Teach me tae throw knives."

He snorted. "Ye'll throw it intae me heart given half the chance."