Page 97 of Forbidden Kilted Highlander

"It matters tae me," Tav growled. "Let someone else sit the throne. Let it rot fer all I care. I want one thing—Agnes. Safe. Free. That’s it."

Kerr’s voice cut through the air, sharp and bitter. "And what if the only way she stays safe is if Armstrong is gone?"

Tav’s eyes met his. No hesitation. "Then burn him. Salt the land. I’ll help ye dae it."

The words hung heavy. There was no righteousness in his voice, no vengeance. Only cold resolve. The kind of fury that didn’t roar. It burned quietly.

Caithness folded his arms, nodding slowly. "Then we have our plan."

Kerr said nothing. He was still staring at the map, but Tav knew the battle had moved elsewhere now—into his thoughts, into the future.

Tav’s gaze fell to the curve of the ridge behind Armstrong’s hold. That was where he’d need the archers. And the cut in the southern wall was where he’d run if it all went wrong.

He knew what he was walking into. The odds weren’t in his favor. But the risk didn’t matter. She did. He closed his eyes. Her face filled the dark behind his lids. The warmth of her voice, the way she’d touched him like she knew he’d break. He could still hear her last words to him. The look she’d given him in that corridor.

He didn’t deserve her. But he would fight like hell to get her back. He opened his eyes again.

"Just hold on, lass," Tav whispered, his voice barely above the crackle of the fire. "I’m comin’."

And this time, he wouldn’t be too late.