Page 93 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

"Perfect!" Lachlann clapped once, loud enough to make Branwen ruffle her feathers indignantly. "That was absolutely perfect, Alba."

Alba couldn't stop grinning. "I cannae believe I just did that. She actually came when I called."

"Told ye she would." Lachlann moved closer, helping to transfer Branwen back to her perch. "Ye're a fast learner."

"I had a good teacher."

Their hands brushed as they both reached to secure the falcon's jesses—the leather straps that kept her from flying away completely. Alba's fingers tangled with Lachlann's, and for a moment neither of them moved.

"Lachlann," Alba said softly.

"Aye?"

"Thank ye fer teachin' me somethin' ye clearly love." She looked up at him, finding his face closer than she'd expected. "It means... a lot."

His hand turned, capturing hers properly now. "I wanted tae share it with ye, tae show ye somethin' that's mine, that's part of who I am beyond just bein' a laird or a warrior."

"I like this part of ye," Alba admitted, her cheeks warming. "The patient part. The gentle part. The part that spends months earnin' a bird's trust because it matters."

Lachlann's thumb stroked across her knuckles. "Ye see parts of me most people dinnae."

"Maybe because ye let me see them."

"Maybe because I want ye tae."

They stood like that, hands clasped, Branwen settled peacefully on her perch beside them. The falcon preened her feathers, unconcerned with the humans and whatever strange courtship ritual they were performing.

"Can I ask ye somethin'?" Alba said, not quite ready to break the moment but curious.

"Anythin'."

"Why Branwen? Why 'blessed raven' when she's clearly nae a raven?"

Lachlann's expression softened. "There's an old Welsh tale about a woman named Branwen. She was given as a bride tae an Irish king tae secure peace between their lands, but he mistreated her. So she trained a starling to carry messages back tae Wales, and eventually her braithers came tae rescue her."

"That's sad," Alba said quietly.

"Aye. But also hopeful. Because even when she was trapped and alone, she found a way tae call fer help. Tae bring her family tae her." His eyes held hers. "When I got this falcon, I was still a new laird. Me faither had died, Eòin was gone, and I felt... alone. Trapped by duty and grief. So, I named her Branwen as a reminder."

"Of what?"

"That even in our darkest moments, we can find ways to reach out. Tae connect. Tae bring the people we care about close again." His hand tightened on hers. "And that sometimes the ones who rescue us are the ones we least expect."

Alba's breath caught. "Lachlann."

"Ye asked," he said with a small smile. "I'm just answerin'."

"That's... more profound than I expected from a bird's name."

"I contain depths, lass." His tone turned teasing. "Ye'll find I'm full of surprises."

"I'm learnin' that." Alba glanced at Branwen, who had settled into a restful posture, eyes half-closed in contentment. "She's beautiful when she's like this. All that power just... at peace."

"Like ye were this mornin'. When I left ye sleepin'."

Heat flooded Alba's face. "Ye were watchin' me sleep?"

"Only fer a moment." Lachlann's smile turned soft. "Ye looked peaceful. Happy, even. I didnae want tae disturb ye."