Page 95 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander

“Aye,” Damon said, a lilt in his voice.

“Truly? It was the festival?”

“I told ye how important this was to me, and how important I thought it would be for the clan’s unity.”

“Butthisis important tome.”

“Fine. What do ye wish to ken about yer friend, who’s currently rottin’ in our dungeons for nearly killin’ ye?” Damon’s tone was now laced with frustration.

“Ye arenae goin’ to kill her, are ye?”

“Nay, I’m nae goin’ to kill her.”

Not happy with the quick response, Lilith pressed him further, “Ye swear she willnae die because of this, Damon?”

“I’ve just said I willnae kill her, have I nae? What else do ye wish to ken about this?”

“I think she worked alone, but I dinnae ken?—”

“Was there anything else ye wished to speak with me about, Lilith?” Damon interrupted, ending her line of questioning.

Lilith saw her window of opportunity closing rapidly. Her mind raced to find the right words, but it came up short.

Damon stepped back at the precise moment the music stopped, bringing her hand up to his mouth. His eyes remained on hers as he planted a final kiss on her knuckles, clearly signaling the end of their conversation without saying a word.

He let himself be dragged away by a few familiar faces, and Lilith went through the motions of visiting a few of the stalls. Letting out a slow breath, forcing herself to focus on the festival again, she mentally kicked herself for not bringing up their seventh night together.

The flower stall was the one she gravitated toward, naturally. Planning to start at this one and move around the perimeter, she leaned in to inhale the fresh, grounding scents. Then, she saw him—one of the boys in charge of cleaning the dungeons. He had unmistakable jet-black hair that flowed with the speed of his steps. He was darting through the crowd, slipping between bodies with ease before finally reaching his target—her.

“Ma’am,” was all that the young lad said before shoving a folded scrap of parchment into her hand and then vanishing into the throng.

Lilith swallowed hard.

She kept her expression neutral, hoping that Damon hadn’t witnessed their short interaction. Then, she sneakily twisted around and unfolded the parchment to read.

Lilith,

I don’t have much time, I know that. I’ve made a terrible mistake.

I’m pregnant with Magnus’s child. Tristan doesn’t know because I didn’t know how to tell him. It would ruin him. It would ruin me.

I loved your brother and wished for revenge on the man who took him from me. I’m afraid of what the Laird will do to me when he finds out I’m carrying the rightful heir to Clan McCallum.

Please believe me—I never meant to hurt you.

Love always,

Ariah.

Lilith’s entire world tilted on its axis, challenging everything she ever knew. She had to get rid of the letter, but she felt the urge to tell Damon.

Christ above.

The corners of her vision blurred with tears, and anxiety tightened her chest.

“I’m afraid of what the Laird will do to me when he finds out I’m carrying the rightful heir to Clan McCallum.”

She mouthed the words, pretending to smell more of the blooms in front of her.