Page 57 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander

Ryder’s mouth tightened, and he looked away again, clearly struggling with how much to say.

Damon’s patience was wearing thin. “If ye’re holdin’ something back, now’s the time to speak. I willnae stand for lies or half-truths, Ryder. If there’s anythin’ I need to ken about Lilith or Willow’s past—anythin’ that might explain why they needed the skills ye taught them—ye’ll tell me now.”

When Ryder remained silent, Damon’s temper flared.

“Damn it, man! Ye’re me second-in-command. If I cannae trust ye to be honest with me, then perhaps I made a mistake bringin’ ye here.”

Ryder’s head snapped up at that, his eyes flashing with emotion. “It’s nae that I dinnae want to tell ye,” he gritted out. “It’s that it’s nae me story to tell.”

Damon pushed off the desk, taking a step closer to him. “Ye think I give a damn about propriety right now? If there’s somethin’ I should ken, ye’ll tell me. If Magnus has done anythin’ to harm them, I need to ken.”

Ryder sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Right,” he said, his tone resigned. “I’ll tell ye. But it’s nae an easy thing to hear.”

Damon crossed his arms again, his jaw clenched. “I’m listenin’.”

Ryder took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on a point just past Damon’s shoulder as he began to speak. “It happened years ago, before the girls were out. Magnus caught Willow kissin’ Tristan.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his councilman, but he said nothing, letting Ryder continue.

“Magnus wasfurious,” Ryder said, his voice hardening. “He dragged Willow into the Great Hall and ordered Lilith to be brought in as well. He wanted to make it hurt. But Willow was too strong-minded to feel whatever punishment Magnus had in mind for her, so he beat Lilith to an absolute sopping puddle of pulp and told them that was what happened to ‘loose women,’ as he called them.”

Damon’s stomach churned at the venom in Ryder’s words, but he remained silent, his attention focused entirely on the man in front of him.

“He made Willow watch. Tied her to a chair.” Ryder’s voice was thick with anger and something deeper—shame, perhaps, for not being able to prevent it. “He said it was for her benefit. That she needed to see the consequences of her actions on someone equally worthless as her.”

A muscle in Damon’s jaw twitched as he fought to keep his composure. The image Ryder painted was sickening, and the thought of Magnus laying a hand on Lilith made his blood boil.

“How bad was it?” Damon asked, his voice low and strained.

Ryder hesitated for a moment before answering, “Bad enough that Lilith couldnae get out of bed for days. One of the blows broke her rib. Willow wouldnae speak for weeks after that.”

Damon turned away, pacing to the window as he tried to process what he’d just heard. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, the rage inside him threatening to consume him.

“Why didnae ye stop him?” he asked, his back still turned to Ryder.

“I tried,” Ryder admitted quietly. “But Magnus was the laird of the castle. I had nay authority to interfere, and the men held me back when I tried.”

Damon spun back around, his eyes blazing. “And that’s why ye taught them to fight?”

Ryder nodded, his expression grim. “Aye. I wanted them to be able to protect themselves if it ever came to it.”

Damon’s mind raced with questions, but one thought stood out above the rest: Magnus’s cruelty ran deeper than he’d imagined. The man hadn’t just been a poor excuse for a brother—he’d been a monster.

“I wish I kenned about this sooner.”

Damon let out a sharp breath, his anger momentarily ebbing. He understood Ryder’s hesitation, but it didn’t make the truth any easier to swallow.

“From now on,” he said, his tone firm, “if there’s anything—anything at all—that could affect her safety or well-being, ye come to me first. Do ye understand?”

Ryder nodded. “Aye, Me Laird.”

Damon studied him for a moment longer, then turned back to the window. His reflection stared back at him, a mix of anger and determination etched on his face.

Magnus might be gone, but the scars he’d left behind still lingered. Bastard.

14

Lilith sat on the edge of her bed, her hands fidgeting with the flower Damon had given her, as Ariah bustled around the room, folding clothes and organizing things that didn’t really need organizing.