Page 26 of Trapped by the Wicked Highlander (Lairds of the Loch Alliance #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

C assandra sat by the window of her chamber, staring out at the familiar landscape of McAllister Castle. She had been welcomed back with open arms, Elias and Holly making her feel as if she had never left. Yet, despite the warmth of her home, something felt off—something was missing. No matter how hard she tried to push it aside, her thoughts kept drifting back to Hunter.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She took a steadying breath, composing herself before speaking.

“Enter,” she called softly.

Holly stepped inside, her sharp gaze immediately settling on Cassandra.

"I can tell somethin’ is different with ye, lass," Holly said, folding her arms. "Did somethin’ happen at McDougal Castle?"

Cassandra forced a smile, shaking her head. "Nay, I’m just tired is all."

Holly narrowed her eyes and stepped closer, her hands coming up to grip Cassandra’s shoulders. "Daenae lie to me, Cassandra. I ken ye better than that."

Cassandra swallowed hard, but before she could say another word, Holly pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Come here, lass," Holly murmured, her voice filled with understanding.

The moment Cassandra felt Holly’s arms around her, the walls she had so carefully built crumbled. A sob tore from her throat, her body trembling as she clung to her friend.

"Shh, lass, let it out," Holly soothed, running a hand over Cassandra’s back.

Cassandra buried her face against Holly’s shoulder, the weight of everything crashing down on her. "I—I dinnae want to leave," she admitted between broken breaths.

Holly pulled back slightly, studying her with knowing eyes. "Ye miss it?"

Cassandra bit her lip, nodding as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "Aye… more than I ever thought possible."

Cassandra sat on the edge of her bed, wringing her hands together as Holly sat beside her. The weight of her emotions pressed down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She had tried to ignore the ache in her heart, but now, with Holly's comforting presence, she could no longer hold back.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the truth that had been gnawing at her since she left McDougal Castle.

"I made a terrible mistake, Holly," Cassandra whispered, her voice shaking.

Holly turned to face her, concern etched across her face. "What kind of mistake, lass?"

Cassandra swallowed hard, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. "I fell in love with the Laird of clan McDougal."

Holly’s eyes widened for only a moment. "Och, is that all? That’s nay mistake, Cassandra. Hunter is a good, strong man."

Cassandra shook her head violently, fresh tears brimming in her eyes. "Nay, ye daenae understand. It is a mistake because his wife returned."

Holly’s mouth fell open, her brows knitting together in shock. "His wife? I thought Margaret was dead!"

"Aye, so did all," Cassandra said, her voice breaking. "But it turns out she was alive all these years. It’s a long story, but none of it matters—she has returned, and Hunter welcomed her back."

Holly exhaled sharply, rubbing Cassandra’s back in soothing circles. "Och, lass, I’m so sorry. That must have been awful for ye."

Cassandra let out a trembling breath, her hands gripping the fabric of her gown. "It was worse than I ever imagined. I thought I was just fond of him, but when I left, it felt as if I left a piece of me heart behind."

Holly gave her a sad smile, squeezing her shoulder. "Ye truly care for him, daenae ye?"

Cassandra nodded, wiping at her tears. "Aye, I do. But it doesnae matter now. He has a family, and I was never meant to be part of it."

Holly tilted her head, studying Cassandra with sympathy. "But what if he cares for ye too? What if he let Margaret back only because of his daughter?"

Cassandra shook her head. "Even if that were true, what kind of woman would I be to stand between him and his wife? I cannae do that, Holly. I willnae be the reason his daughter loses her maither again."

Holly sighed, leaning back on the bed with a thoughtful expression. "Ye always put others before yerself, Cassandra. But love doesnae always follow the rules. If Hunter’s heart belongs to ye, then Margaret’s return changes naught."

Cassandra gave her a weak smile, though her heart still felt heavy. "It changes everythin’, Holly. He made his choice, and I must live with it."

Holly pulled her into another hug, holding her close. "Then I’ll be here for ye, lass. Nay matter what."

Cassandra pulled away from Holly’s embrace, wiping at her damp cheeks with the sleeve of her gown.

"I daenae ken how to move forward, Holly. I thought I’d found a place where I belonged, and now it’s all gone."

Holly gave her a gentle smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Cassandra’s ear. "Och, lass, ye can grieve what ye lost, but ye must also see what ye’ve gained. Ye opened yer heart again—do ye ken how remarkable that is? After yer betrothed betrayed ye I thought ye had sworn off men forever. Now ye have healed from that."

Cassandra let out a shaky breath, shaking her head. "I was a fool. I let meself believe in somethin’ that was never mine to have."

Holly scoffed and folded her arms. "Daenae be daft. Love is never foolish. If ye had kept yer heart locked away, ye’d never have known what it meant to feel this deeply again."

Cassandra frowned, her hands twisting in her lap. "But what good is feelin’ deeply if it only brings pain?"

Holly reached out, taking Cassandra’s hands in hers. "Because pain means ye lived, lass. It means ye’ve healed from the past that once held ye prisoner. And now, instead of hidin’, ye can walk forward with an open heart."

Cassandra blinked at her, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "I daenae feel healed. I feel broken."

Holly gave her a reassuring squeeze. "That’s because ye’re still in the thick of it. But in time, ye’ll see—this isnae the end of yer story, Cassandra. It’s only the beginnin’."

Cassandra let out a slow breath, her shoulders slumping. "I wish I had yer certainty, Holly. Right now, all I feel is loss."

Holly gave a knowing smile. "Aye, but in time, ye’ll feel somethin’ else, too—hope. And when that day comes, ye’ll be ready for whatever comes next."

Cassandra swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "Maybe ye’re right. Maybe one day, this pain will pass."

Holly grinned and nudged her playfully. "Aye, and when it does, ye’ll look back on this moment and see just how strong ye really were."

For the first time in days, Cassandra felt the tiniest spark of something that wasn’t sorrow. Perhaps, just perhaps, Holly was right.

Cassandra sat at her wooden worktable, grinding dried herbs into a fine powder. Every time she tried to focus, memories of Hunter came rushing back—his touch, his kiss, the way he looked at her when he thought no one was watching. She clenched her jaw and forced herself to concentrate on her work.

She reached for a vial of oil, carefully measuring out drops into the mixture. Her hands moved with practiced ease, but her thoughts betrayed her. She saw Hunter in her mind, the warmth of his lips against hers, the strength of his arms around her.

Shaking her head, she muttered under her breath, "Enough of this foolishness, Cassandra. Ye have work to do."

She grabbed a mortar and pestle, grinding the herbs with renewed force. She told herself she was being daft—Hunter had let her leave without protest. If he had truly cared, he would have stopped her, would have said something, anything, to make her stay. But he had remained silent, and that silence spoke louder than any words ever could.

Her heart ached as she poured the crushed herbs into a small pouch, tying it closed with a piece of twine.

"If he wanted me, he would’ve said so," she whispered to herself. The realization stung, but she forced herself to accept it. Hunter had made his choice, and now she had to live with it.

She straightened her back and forced a deep breath into her lungs. There were people in need of her medicines, and she would not allow herself to fall apart over a man who had not fought for her. She was Cassandra McAllister, a healer, a woman of strength, not some lovesick lass waiting for a man to save her. She had survived worse, and she would survive this.

But even as she worked, mixing salves and measuring tinctures, the truth lingered in the back of her mind. No matter how much she willed herself to forget, Hunter McDougal had left a mark on her heart that she could not erase.

I love him .