Page 115 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander

“Woman,” Damon growled as he pushed himself to his feet. “Enough of yer blubberin’. Ask me what ye truly need to ken about that, before I call him back into this room.” He pointed at her belly.

Ariah’s frantic eyes searched his face before realization softened the creases on her brow. “Ye’ll let us go unharmed?”

“Exiled,” he said simply.

“And this child”—her hands moved instinctively to the non-existent bump—“must never make a move against ye.”

“Correct.”

“So, ye’ll let us live?”

“Apparently.”

“Are there any other stipulations?”

Good.

“Aye, there are,” Damon said, his face darkening. “For all ye ken, for all Tristan kens, and for all Lilith and I ken, that child is Gunn’s heir and nothin’ more.”

Ariah nodded silently.

“If any of ye make a move against McCallum ever again—even voice it—ye will be cut down by forces nae even ye can track. I will be everywhere ye are. I will ken everything. Every move. For the rest of yer life. For the rest of that child’s life. Understood?”

Ariah hung her head, still caressing her stomach. “I accept.”

“Ye what?”

“I accept the terms,” she said, her eyes flicking up to meet his with a new resolve.

“Good. Now, it’s yer duty to be convincing.”

“Me Laird?” she asked, her voice stronger now but still hesitant.

Damon only stared at her blankly.

“They willnae stop,” she whispered. “Me faither may be gone, but his promises still exist. They’ll keep comin’, keep sendin’ men, keep findin’ new ways to undermine ye until they get what they want.”

He exhaled through his nose, his rage simmering beneath his skin. “They’ll get nothin’.”

Ariah swallowed hard. “I hope ye’re right.”

Damon stepped forward, his towering form casting long shadows over the flickering light. “I ken Iam.”

She nodded, and he called out for Ryder to bring Tristan back up to the study.

The door swung open moments later, and the disgraced councilman rushed inside to his fiancée’s side.

“Gunn, she’s accepted the terms.”

Tristan hesitated, his eyes darting between Ariah and Damon. “What?”

“I have,” Ariah confirmed, her voice firm.

Damon straightened. “Good. Ye will leave here, immediately.”

“Me Laird? Wait—” Tristan started to say, but Ariah placed a hand on his cheek, drawing his attention.

“Dearest, we must away while we can—it’s for the best. I deserve muchmuchworse than this fate.”