Page 102 of Forbidden Kilted Highlander

Maybe love didn’t just survive darkness—it defied it.

She gave her reflection a small nod, to honor it. She had lived through it. And now, she would live past it.

A knock at the door broke the silence.

"Agnes?"

Her father’s voice. She turned quickly.

"Come in."

Ewan Kerr stepped into the room, and for a moment he didn’t move—he just stared. “Agnes,” he breathed. His voice was thick, unsteady. “God above, lass…”

He crossed the room in two strides and, as if he couldn’t bear the distance between them. His hand hovered at her cheek, afraid to touch. “When I saw ye like that—tied, bloodied—I’ve never known fear like it. Never.”

She reached for him, and he caught her in his arms, holding her close but gentle, like he was afraid she might break. Agnes stiffened for just a heartbeat—then melted into him.

“I’m so glad ye’re here,” she whispered. Her voice cracked on the last word. “So glad.”

They held each other like that for a long moment—father and daughter, and the weight of love.

At last, she pulled back slightly. “What happened? Outside… the battle?”

Ewan’s brow furrowed, then softened. “We won,” he said simply. “Caithness led the charge after Tav went in. Armstrong’s men didnae stand a chance once the line broke. They tried tae scatter, but our riders were waitin’. We took the camp. Clean and full.”

She exhaled, a sound somewhere between disbelief and release. “It’s over then.”

“Aye.” He cupped her face gently. “It’s over.”

Agnes leaned into his touch, grateful down to her bones—not just that the war was done, but that her father was there. That she could still find comfort in his arms, after everything.

“I was so afraid,” he murmured, his hand still at the back of her head. “I should’ve kept ye safe.”

She shook her head, tears brimming. “Ye came,” she said. “That’s all that matters.”

He held her a moment longer, his hand brushing gently down her hair. “There’s nay place else I’d rather be,” he murmured. “I was scared, lass. I’ve never been so scared in me life.”

Agnes pulled back just enough to see his face, and there it was, plain as daylight. The guilt. The relief. The love. She swallowed hard, her throat tight.

“I kent ye’d come,” she said, tears burning her lashes.

“Aye, but I’ll never fergive myself fer nae gettin’ there sooner,” he replied, voice low. “If he’d hurt ye worse⁠—”

“But he didn’t,” she interrupted gently. “And I’m here. Because o’ ye and Tav.”

He nodded, jaw clenched, eyes shimmering. Then he took a breath and stepped back slightly. “Caithness wants tae see us,” he said. “Said it was important.”

She blinked. "Now? What daes he want?"

He offered a shrug that wasn’t really a shrug. "He just said it was important."

They walked the corridors in silence. The castle was subdued, as if holding its breath after war. Even the guards stood quieter.

When they reached the study, the door stood open.

Tav was already inside.

He stood by the fire, dressed and clean. The gash at his temple had been cared for. His shoulders were set, but his eyes softened the moment they found hers. They were the color of storms over sea.