Page 83 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander

The food was already on the table, steaming delightfully, but the wine was brought in by Smith. Lilith smiled at Damon’s obvious confusion, though he asked no questions.

They ate in companionable silence at first, but Lilith found herself stealing glances at him. He looked… content. Relaxed but thoughtful. And the realization made something in her chest tighten.

“So,” she began, and he raised an eyebrow with interest. “This was me maither’s private study.”

Damon swallowed the bite of food in his mouth and nodded silently, allowing her to continue.

“As I mentioned before, only four people alive kenned about this place.”

“Smith, ye, and I assume Willow…” Damon trailed off.

“And Ariah.”

“Ah, Ariah, of course. Nae Ryder? Or yer braither?”

“Nay. Willow and I used to hide here whenever Magnus tore through the keep in rage, and Ariah and Smith would sneak us food so we didnae starve.” Lilith recounted the memory. The thought of her sister warmed her chest.

Her eyes met Damon’s, and he looked at her with understanding, offering her his hand across the table. She took it gratefully and basked in the feel of his rough hand against hers.

“Thank ye for sharin’ this space with me. I’m honored that ye feel I am worthy of kennin’ about it.”

Lilith smiled a genuinely joyful smile, and the weight of what she was feeling became undeniable.

I love him.

The thought sent a thrill of panic and exhilaration through her.

Can I truly overcome me fears? Can I face the possibility of children, of the unknown, if he is by me side? Can I share that with him?

She swallowed, gathering her courage. “Damon, I?—”

A sharp breath caught in her throat. The room spun, her vision darkening at the edges. Confusion struck her.

I’m nae panickin’ or overwhelmed… What’s happenin’?

Her hands clamped down on the edges of the table as her entire body grew impossibly tight, and she felt trapped in her own skin.

Damon’s chair scraped across the floor as he shot to his feet. “Lass?”

“Damon! Help me!” she tried to say.

She tried to scream with every last ounce of effort, but nothing came out. Her hands couldn’t reach for him. She was falling. Fading.

“Lilith?”

She tried to respond, but her limbs felt heavy. Her head swam.

The last thing she heard before the darkness took her was Damon’s voice, sharp with fear, calling out her name.

21

“Lilith!”

“Smith! Smith!” Damon screamed in panic. “Lilith! Och, Christ—Lilith!” he growled as she lay limp in his arms. “Smith! For Christ’s sake! Where are ye, woman?!”

The banging on one of the walls alerted him to Ryder’s presence. His man screamed through the stone, “I dinnae ken how to get in, Me Laird!”

“Stay out. Where in the devil is Smith?”