Page 101 of Forbidden Kilted Highlander

CHAPTER THIRTY

The road home was golden with light.

Agnes sat in front of Tav, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist as their horse carried them at a steady pace. The breeze played through her hair, lifting strands from her cheeks, and the scent of earth and wildflowers filled the air. Every part of her ached, but it was the kind of ache that came after the fear, after the fight. The kind that reminded her she was alive. They were alive.

Tav’s chin brushed the top of her head, and she felt the quiet rhythm of his breath against her spine. He hadn't let go since the moment he’d found her, and she hadn’t wanted him to. His hold was sure, solid. Not desperate anymore, but almost disbelieving.

They were going home.

Agnes leaned back into his chest and let her eyes fall shut for a heartbeat. For the first time in what felt like forever, her body relaxed and the silence felt warm and peaceful

A laugh escaped her. Soft, startled. She turned her head slightly. “I think I forgot what it felt like tae breathe without fear.”

Tav’s arms tightened. “Then I’ll keep remindin’ ye. Every day, if I must.”

She looked down at his hand resting over hers. “I kept thinkin’ about this. Just… us. Being like this. I didn’t dare hope too much.”

He pressed a kiss into her temple. “Ye should have.”

The castle crested into view, rising from the hills like a promise kept. Agnes straightened a little in the saddle, smiling wide and sudden. “There it is,” she whispered.

“Aye,” Tav said, his voice rough with something unspoken. “We made it.”

They dismounted together. Agnes stumbled as her boots met the earth, but Tav caught her instantly, both hands at her waist to keep her steady.

She laughed again, fuller this time, tipping her head up to meet his gaze. “I’m alright,” she said. “Truly.”

He looked at her for a long moment, like he was memorizing her face all over again.

"I ken ye are," Tav murmured, brushing his knuckles lightly over her sleeve. "But let me help anyway."

A soft beat passed. Then she nodded. And for a moment, standing there in the quiet, she felt steadier.

Paisley was waiting at the castle gates. Her face crumpled when she saw Agnes, and in that moment, all of Agnes’s resolve wavered. She hadn’t cried during the ride, hadn’t let herself fully feel anything but the weight of Tav’s arms around her. But now, seeing Paisley her heart overflowed.

Agnes felt the ache bloom in her chest before the tears could come. It wasn’t pain, not exactly. It was something deeper. A wave of grief and relief rolled into one. She was alive, but she wasn’t the same person anymore.

Paisley rushed forward without a word and caught her in a tight embrace, holding her upright when her knees nearly gave out. Agnes buried her face in the girl’s shoulder.

Paisley brought her to her chamber. The fire was already lit. A bath steamed in the corner, waiting.

Paisley helped her undress, her hands trembling, her voice quiet. Agnes saw the bruises in the mirror. Faint purpled maps along her arms and ribs. A split lip. A scrape near her temple. She didn’t remember how half of them had got there.

"I’m sorry," Paisley whispered, knelt beside the tub, washing gently at her back. "I should’ve kent. I should’ve stayed closer. "

"Ye couldnae have," Agnes murmured. Her voice cracked on the last word.

Paisley’s eyes filled.

Agnes turned, reaching to grip her friend’s wrist. "Dinnae. Please."

The bathwater had long gone lukewarm, but Agnes didn’t mind. She sat quietly as Paisley worked, letting the gentle rhythm of the cloth against her skin erase what it could. The dirt, the grime of what she’d survived—it all lifted, piece by piece. She had made it through.

Later, dressed in clean linens, her hair damp and combed smooth, she studied her reflection in the mirror. There were shadows under her eyes and a small cut along her collarbone, but her gaze was steady. She didn’t look hollow. Just changed. Tempered, maybe. Stronger than she’d ever known.

And as she looked, her thoughts drifted to Tav and the truth of it all.

She still couldn’t quite believe it. That someone so good, so kind and fiercely loyal, could have come from him. From all that rot and ruin. But maybe that was the miracle of it.