Taken By the Vicious Highlander (Taken by Highland Devils #5)

Chapter 1

1

“ B e on yer guard, lass. If he’s anything like his clansmen, he can and will be ruthless.” The gruff voice of Lilith Flanagan’s most trusted guard was meant to steady her. Instead, it made her stomach churn.

Her dear friend, Ariah Morris, chuckled nervously beside her; a laugh too strained to be genuine. Lilith could see the worry etched on her friend’s features despite her attempt at levity.

The Great Hall of McCallum Castle was filled with tension as council members and clansmen from even the farthest reaches of McCallum lands all awaited the arrival of their new Laird.

Damon Aragain—a name that had become synonymous with the unknown and power.

He was her sister’s brother-in-law, of Clan Brahanne, and he was on his way to stake his claim now that her brother, Magnus, had been laid to rest.

Lilith had met Damon only once before, yet her memories of that encounter were cloaked in unease. The younger Aragain brother was a rude, boorish brute, with nothing on his mind but combat and revenge. He was the one who killed her brother, and everyone was aware of it.

Is it just me, or did the hall just get colder?

She let the shiver roll through her shoulders as she pushed aside her apprehension, forcing a calm smile for the sake of her people.

“Stay strong, all of ye. No matter what, me sister will arrive soon, and I will always be here by yer side,” she assured them, though her voice wavered slightly.

The heavy oak doors swung open suddenly, and the herald’s booming voice announced their guests’ arrival.

All eyes turned toward the imposing figures entering the hall in pairs. All dressed in black, their faces stern and focused—they were clearly ready for a fight, should there be one. They were followed closely by Clan McCallum’s new Laird. The tall, remarkably rugged, and… chiseled new Laird.

Did he always look like that?

The man who Lilith knew to be Keegan’s brooding younger brother had stepped inside smoothly and confidently, his calculating gaze cutting through the crowd like a blade. He moved with an air of authority, the weight of his presence silencing the hall with an eerie immediacy. When his gaze met Lilith’s, heat pooled in the pit of her stomach, and she felt her body tighten.

“Is that…?” she overheard Ariah hiss, almost chastising her, as if she had failed to mention a key part of the entire arrangement—which she very clearly had.

The brute that Lilith remembered Damon Aragain to be was now a man she hardly recognized. The crude, vengeful warrior from her memories had transformed into someone altogether more lethal—not because of his blade, but because of the way his piercing gaze seemed to strip away her defenses.

Her breath caught as her eyes lingered on his broad shoulders and strong jawline, the ruggedness of him sharpened by the years. His presence was magnetic, drawing her attention despite her best efforts to keep her guard up. She hated herself for the way her heart raced, and how she found herself thinking not of her brother’s death or Damon’s flaws, but of the way his hand might feel trailing over her skin.

“Lilith,” Ariah whispered, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. “Are ye well?”

“Aye,” Lilith lied quickly, her lips pressing into a tight line. “I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t. Damon’s transformation—from brute to devastatingly dominating Laird—had unraveled something inside her, leaving her off-balance. The way he commanded the room with just his presence filled her with a mix of frustration, admiration, and a traitorous flicker of desire that she couldn’t banish.

She couldn’t decide which frightened her more: the man Damon used to be or the one standing before her now.

His eyes are just so blue… Wait a minute ? —

Worry clawed at her chest, but she had little time to dwell on it.

Without any greeting or wavering of his piercing blue eyes, Damon’s commanding voice cut through the silence.

“Show me to me study,” he demanded, his tone leaving little room for argument.

“Where is me sister?” Lilith asked, forcing strength into her voice.

Damon tore his eyes away from her, taking in the hall around them before answering. The muscles on his neck rippled as he turned his head until he was facing her. She watched as his icy stare traveled up the length of her body before meeting her gaze once more, sharp and unyielding.

“She was injured on the way here,” he said. “An accident that left her with the tiniest of scratches, ye ken. But me braither, ever the overprotective husband, took her back to Brahanne Keep to recover.”

Lilith’s worry deepened with the confusion.

A scratch made her turn around? From what? What could have possibly ? —

But before she could voice any further questions, Damon’s eyebrows knitted together in irritation. And in front of the entire hall, Lilith heard the forceful words echo around her.

“I hate repeating meself,” he said curtly. “Show me to me study.”

Irritated by his lack of compassion, she scoffed, “Right this way, Me Laird.” Then, she turned on her heel and led the way through the castle.

Damon followed closely, and then his men, the sound of their heavy boots echoing through the stone corridors.

As they came to the top of the staircase, away from any prying ears, Melissa’s cheerful voice chimed in, “Quite expansive. Is it nae, Braither?”

Having not expected her friend’s presence, Lilith whipped around, halting the precession—and a smile tore through her spiky exterior.

“Melissa! I didnae see ye before!”

“Ye think I’d let me braither come all the way here and nae bring me along?”

A heat spread through Lilith’s chest, and her nerves melted away. Her eyes flickered to Damon’s sharp gaze before connecting with Melissa’s again. “Almost there.”

Moving faster, Lilith even hiked up her skirts to lead them the rest of the way.

There is nothin’ her braither can do or say to ruin this pleasant surprise. I’ll just dump him off at the study and then spend the rest of the day with Melissa. Perfect!

As they reached the door to the study, she turned, putting space between her and the rest. Staring only at Melissa as she pushed the door open, she confidently said, “Here we are?—”

Only, her friend’s cheerful look faltered when Damon’s sharp gaze landed on the numerous banners and decorations that adorned the room.

“What’s with all these preparations?” he asked, his tone curious but edged with suspicion.

Melissa winced, avoiding Lilith’s gaze.

Lilith’s cheeks flushed as she explained, “I was to be married to a laird allied with me braither bef—” Her voice caught in her throat, which she managed to clear quickly. “Before he died. The matter has been left unresolved, and now it falls to ye, as Laird McCallum, to decide whether the union is advantageous.”

“I have to approve a union for who?”

“For me,” Lilith said, flinching at her admission.

Getting married was the absolute last thing she wanted. Anyway, her getting married was only a ‘backup plan’ for Magnus’s original plan. Her sister had been engaged to Laird MacMillan, but as Willow was now officially married, the task fell to Lilith. After Magnus’s death, however, the entire deal had been teetering like a glass full of water on the edge of a table, begging to be knocked over.

Melissa furrowed her brow as she began bombarding Lilith with questions. The commotion seemed to break the floodgates of general chatter among Damon’s party, and the space started to shrink around them.

The din made Lilith’s head spin until Damon raised a hand, silencing the room. “Leave us,” he ordered, his voice firm.

The men, understanding the unspoken part of their Laird’s order, departed without a single word. Melissa lingered for a moment before obeying as well, leaving Lilith alone with Damon.

The study’s walls kept moving inward, and Lilith tried to slow her breathing to fend off a fit. With Damon’s commanding presence filling every corner, it proved more challenging than ever. His eyes remained on her as she clenched and unclenched her fists, assessing her carefully.

Get it together, Lil. Focus on the things ye ken are real.

His eyes followed hers as she accounted for the desk, and then the window, and then the fireplace. Her breathing slowed with each pass she made around the room until finally she nodded her head with one last exhale.

Damon’s eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly before he nodded his head once, and pushed both of them past the heavy silence.

He glanced around the room, his expression unreadable. “Do ye have a desire to marry this intended of yers?” he asked.

Her nerves raw, Lilith clenched the fabric of her dress in her hand—a habit she couldn’t quite shake—before she answered honestly, “Nay.”

Damon turned to face her, his piercing eyes locking onto hers. “Then I willnae allow it,” he said simply.

A breath of relief escaped her lips. “Thank ye—” she began, but he cut her off.

“I have another match in mind,” he added, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

Lilith’s relief evaporated, replaced by tension. “Another match?” she echoed sharply.

He stepped closer, the intensity of his presence overwhelming. “Aye.”

“I dinnae have any other prospects. Magnus?—”

“I ken well enough what yer braither was and wasnae capable of.”

Irritated once more by his presumptuous attitude, she replied swiftly while keeping a distance from him in case he moved to strike, “Well, I was just sayin’—before ye cut me off—that the only clan remotely interested in making an alliance with us was Clan MacMillan.”

He scoffed, “Clan MacMillan? Surely ye must ken that they werenae the only clan interested.”

“The Highland clans were made aware of the scandal between yer braither and me sister. Ye can thank me braither for that word spreading, may he rest in peace.”

“Och, is it a scandal now? Me sister was kidnapped by yer braither, and yers by mine. That seems like normal clan business, does it nae? Why does it matter anyway? Keegan and Willow are married now.”

“Well, for all they ken, it was a scandal! It’s nae like they invited any of them to the celebration. That’s what—” Lilith’s resolve hardened.

Even if she sounded like Magnus, she would say anything to get out of another arrangement.

Damon’s eyes danced. “That’s what yer braither put into yer head, did he nae?”

Lilith’s silence seemed to give him leave to press her harder for more details. “And what else do ye ken?”

Unbidden, her thoughts ran out of her like a waterfall. “I ken ye are mighty confident that ye can step right into this clan and take over without any sort of argument. Magnus, for all his faults, kenned this clan—it’s in our blood. So, before ye go and start makin’ changes to suit the comforts ye were afforded in Clan Brahanne, make sure ye understand the consequences. This clan, while handed to ye, are a strong and loyal lot, and they ken that I am the only one left.”

Her eyes grew wide with realization. She had crossed a line, and would surely pay for it.

What will he do? Magnus would have—I wouldnae have been able to get all of that out if me braither was still here…

Damon inhaled sharply before pushing off the edge of the desk. Bracing for whatever harm this brute in front of her was going to inflict on her, Lilith tilted her chin up defiantly.

But instead of closing the space between them, he clicked his tongue and then moved around the desk. He silently eased himself into her father’s chair, his eyes locked onto hers as if to watch her reaction. Her brother’s old paperwork rested on the desk in front of him, but he easily swiped it to the side. His eyes drew hers to the large portrait of her mother above the mantel before they connected with her fierce hazel glare once more.

“Marry me.”

Lilith’s heart stuttered. A nervous chuckle escaped her lips, but it died quickly when she realized that he wasn’t joking. His expression was firm, his tone unwavering.

“Ye cannae be serious. That’s what ye have to say to me?”

Another thing he wants to be handed! The nerve!

“I am always serious, lass,” Damon replied, his voice suddenly growing sharper. “But if ye dinnae want that, then ye can go. I dinnae have time for this—” He gestured toward the door behind her before turning his gaze to the book next to his left arm.

Lilith’s temper flared at his nonchalance as she spun on her heel and stormed toward the door.

What kind of proposal is this? Why would I marry him? Does he somehow have feelings for ? —

The realization halted her, the air whooshing out of her lungs as if a horse had kicked her.

With her hand tight around the door handle, Lilith blurted out, “Why?”

Her back to him, she heard him sigh, as if her resistance was an inconvenience. The ensuing silence made every bone in her body want to turn around to face him, but she tightened her grip on the handle and stayed firmly in place. Back straining under the tension, waiting.

Damon’s voice broke through her turmoil, the distance between them had decreased drastically, and she twisted around in surprise. Her back pressed against the cold iron adornments on the study door as she breathed in notes of fresh cedar and vetiver.

“Why what?” he asked simply, his features menacingly dark.

Lilith’s words, laced with venom, shot out between them. “Why would ye wish for me to marry ye? Ye have ruined me family! Do ye have feelings for me or something? Because I can assure ye?—”

Damon’s predatory movements—an even more intimidating force than she had experienced before—caused her to cower from him. Her gaze dropped to the floor in submission.

He towered over her, his furious heat permeating the tight space between his wide chest and her delicate shoulders. He was built unlike any man she had ever seen.

“Look at me,” was all he said. His voice was like gravel.

Lilith noted that his hands had remained in his pockets. The folds of his jacket strained against his hard muscles. His sharp jaw clenched, and a muscle fluttered under the edge of his stubbled cheekbone. Finally, she met his icy blue glare—somehow even more blue in his anger.

He could kill me…

“Dinnae be naive. This wouldnae be about romance.” The harsh emphasis on the last word might as well have been a slap across her face. “Neither would a marriage between us ever involve something as baseless and useless as love.”

“Then tell me why!”

That was the last thing Lilith thought she would say before he would deliver an ear-splitting blow. Her body relaxed instinctively because she always recovered quicker and with fewer marks when she wasn’t tense.

As if sensing the shift in the air, Damon’s voice came out like a forbidden flavor of honey. “Because it is what’s best for yer people. They dinnae trust me. I have nay intention of harmin’ them. But if they revolt… drastic measures will be taken. With ye as me wife, they’ll see that I mean to protect them.”

Lilith’s mind raced as his proximity overwhelmed her senses.

“Plus, ye have all gone out of yer way to decorate the study. I doubt anyone was made aware of who ye were actually betrothed to—I havenae seen an announcement yet.”

Another scandal to blight our clan’s honor. They’re all expectin’ a wedding, he’s right. Another ruined engagement if I refuse him…

“What happens if someone crosses ye?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damon’s silence was answer enough.

Her thoughts turned to her people, the trials they had already gone through under Magnus’s rule, and the uncertainty of a stranger now ruling them.

They’ll suffer.

“I willnae repeat meself again, Lilith Flanagan. What say ye?”

She hesitated, heart pounding in her chest as blood rushed to her head. “For me people,” she said slowly and nodded. “For them, I’ll marry ye, Damon Aragain.”