Page 67 of Wicked Kilted Highlander

He swallowed hard, overcome with emotion as he gazed at Lara. Her eyes, so full of warmth and trust, made his heart ache. She had no idea of the torment raging inside him, the anger and grief threatening to tear him apart. But here, now, with her, he could forget, if only for a few moments.

Lara reached up, her fingers tracing the jagged lines of the scars on his face. Darragh closed his eyes, leaning into her gentle touch. Her hand was soft, comforting, soothing. It immediately calmed the storm raging within him.

He turned his head, brushing his lips against her palm. Then, unable to resist any longer, he leaned in and captured her mouth with his.

The kiss was soft, tender, their lips meeting in a bittersweet moment of connection. Darragh savored the feel of her, the taste, memorizing every detail to lock away in his heart.

Too soon, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers as he struggled to steady his breathing. Lara's eyes were still closed, her cheeks flushed.

"Lara…" Darragh whispered, his voice thick with emotion. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words lodged in his throat.

Instead, he simply threaded his fingers through her hair, wishing he could freeze the moment and remain there with her forever. But reality beckoned, and he knew their stolen moment could not last.

With great reluctance, Darragh gently pulled away, though every fiber of his being screamed to stay. He stood, his heart heavy as lead.

"Rest now," he murmured. "I'll come and check on you soon."

Lara's brow furrowed. "You look so sad. What's wrong?"

Darragh swallowed hard. "Nothing ye need tae fret about now. Just focus on getting yer strength back."

He tried to smile reassuringly but knew it didn't reach his eyes. Lara gazed at him for a long moment, her bright blue eyes searching his face. Darragh committed every detail to memory—the curve of her lips, the sweep of her lashes, the faint freckles dusting her cheeks that he'd kissed so many times.

"I have to go away for a while," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "But I'll be back to check on ye when I can. I promise."

Lara gazed up at him, questions in her eyes. But it was as if her weakness would not allow her to elaborate any negative thoughts at present in order to preserve the little energy she had, so she merely nodded and gave him a small smile.

Darragh turned and walked away before his resolve could weaken. Each step was agony, but he forced himself onward, leaving behind the woman who held his battered heart.

Darragh paused outside Lara's door, leaning against the cold stone wall as he struggled to compose himself. His heart ached fiercely, emotions churning within him like a stormy sea.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he continued walking, his boots echoing hollowly down the corridor. He had to see things through, no matter how much it was tearing him apart inside.

Reaching the great hall, Darragh was unsurprised to find the laird waiting for him, his countenance grim. Darragh met his gaze steadily, jaw tight.

"I’m a man who keeps his word… I'm leaving," he stated simply, his voice like gravel.

Harris studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Aye. Best you go before she kens."

Jaw clenched, Darragh remained silent. He knew arguing was futile. With great effort, he inclined his head in acquiescence.

He strode from the hall, his heart shattered but his purpose clear, the laird following him in silence. Lara deserved a chance at happiness, even if it wasn't with him. He would do this one last thing for her, and then disappear from her life forever.

Darragh and Laird MacLean entered the stables, and Darragh readied his horse, securing his meager belongings to the saddlebags.

I have never felt so weak.

He stroked the beast's neck, taking comfort in its solid warmth, its loyalty uncompromised.

At last, he swung himself into the saddle, gripping the reins tightly to hide the tremor in his fingers. Darragh turned for one final look at the castle that had been his home for the last few days, and at the laird, who was following him with his tired eyes. Darragh’s gaze found Lara's window, though he knew she wouldn't be there. Still, he pictured her within, fragile.

"Goodbye," he whispered through his grief, and wheeling his horse around, he set off down the road leading away from the castle, away from Lara, though she would remain forever in his heart. Wherever the lonely road took him now, she would be his guiding light, his reason to survive, to hope, to maybe, someday, return.

As Darragh ventured forth, the rugged beauty of the Scottish countryside served as a bittersweet reminder of the life he yearned for—one filled with love, laughter, and the simple pleasures of nature. Rolling hills spread out before him, their verdant slopes awash in a sea of emerald, green, while the distant sound of crashing waves hummed a haunting melody that spoke of time's relentless march.

"Damn ye," Darragh muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing in anger as he thought about the monster who had poisoned Lara, the person responsible for the pain and loss that haunted his every step.

But even amidst his anger and sorrow, there was a glimmer of hope—a flicker of light in the darkness that threatened to consume him. For in Lara MacLean, the petite girl with long brown hair and blue eyes that seemed to hold all the mysteries of the universe, Darragh had found something precious, something worth fighting for.