Page 36 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander

“How do ye ken all of this? All of them?” he asked as they walked back toward the center of Branloch.

She shrugged. “I spent a lot of time here as a child. Ryder, Willow, and I used to run wild through the village.”

Both of them stopped walking at the same time. Damon remained silent, giving her the space she needed to share whatever was on her mind.

Lilith spoke as if she was a great distance away from him, the memory taking over her features. “There was one time, right there…” She pointed toward a steep hill behind the well. “Magnus threw one of our maither’s barrettes down that well. He had challenged Ryder, Willow, and me to a downhill race. Willow had lost it on the way down, but she beat him. Magnus had found it. He knew that she cherished it deeply—she wore it almost every single day.”

She laughed sadly before continuing. “After Ryder and Willow ran back into the village gloatin’, he made me stay and watch him do it. He threatened to tell Willow that I did it and that he would burn all of me dresses if I didnae keep the secret from her. It caused a huge rift between her and me, even now.”

Her large hazel eyes danced in the torchlight as they met Damon’s. “I stillhavenae told her.”

Damon remained silent. He didn’t press her, sensing that this was a sore subject.

“Her precious pearled red barrette, gone forever. Ryder helped me search for it for months. We even sent one of Emma’s sons down there.” She chuckled at the memory, and he watched as tears filled the corners of her eyes. “It was a mess—he got stuck down there for hours!”

Her laugh grew louder, and it tugged at his lips.

“Ye dinnae like secrets,” he said. It was more of a statement than a question.

She glanced at him, her smile dimming slightly. “Nay, I despise them.”

He nodded, filing away the information. “I understand,” he said, his gaze lingering on her face. “Ye’re different than I expected,” he admitted, pulling her away from the memory.

She frowned. “Isthatsupposed to be a compliment?”

“It’s an observation,” he said, his voice softening. “But if it makes ye feel better, then aye, it’s a compliment.”

For the first time, she smiled at him—a real smile, not the forced ones she gave out of duty. It caught him off guard, and before he could think better of it, he reached out, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip.

“I need to do a better job at gettin’ ye to smile more,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a possessive growl. “It suits ye.”

She flushed, stepping back slightly. “Dinnae push yer luck.”

He chuckled, but his amusement faded as he noticed the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “Lilith,” he said quietly. “Thank ye.”

She looked at him, surprised. “For what?”

“For sharin’ that,” he said simply.

She didn’t respond, but the warmth in her eyes was answer enough.

By the time they returned to the village square, Damon was more exhausted than he cared to admit. But Lilith didn’t seem ready to call it a night.

She turned to him, her expression earnest.“We need to check on Ryder.”

He hesitated, studying her face. The worry in her eyes was unmistakable, and despite himself, he found he couldn’t deny her.

“Aye,” he agreed. “Let’s go then, lass.”

Her relief was palpable, and for the first time that night, she smiled at him. A real smile, soft and genuine. And damn if it didn’t make his chest tighten.

9

Damon kept a firm grip on the reins of his horse as they navigated the narrow dirt path leading to Ryder’s cottage. The scent of damp earth and faint smoke from lingering fires filled the air, but it was the oppressive silence that hung over the village that set his teeth on edge.

“When was the last time ye came to the village, lass?” he asked, sensing her worry.

“I came down here the day before ye arrived at the keep.”