His eyes softened though his breath still came uneven. “Because there was no choice,” he said simply. “Because I’d rather die finding ye than live a thousand days without ye.”
Scarlett stared at him, speechless. Her tears blurred everything until all she could see was him.
“Ye cannae say things like that,” she murmured, voice shaking. “Not when I daenae ken what to do with them.”
He managed the faintest smile. “Then daenae do anything. Just breathe, Scarlett. Just stay here.”
She leaned into him again, her head resting against his shoulder as thunder rolled across the hills. “I’m here,” she said quietly. “I’m nae going anywhere.”
He let out a long, shuddering breath, his hand splaying against her back as if memorizing the shape of her. “Good,” he whispered. “Because I’ve had enough ghosts for one life.”
The words made her chest ache. “And what will ye do now?” she asked softly.
“Take ye home.” His tone was firm, decisive. “We’ll burn this place to ash and never speak of it again.”
She looked up at him, her face pale but steady. “And ye’ll let yerself rest?”
He snorted, a hint of humor cutting through the exhaustion. “Rest is for the dead, lass. And I’m not there yet.” “Ye’re a fool.”
“Aye,” he said, cupping her jaw, thumb tracing her rain-soaked skin. “But I’m yer fool.”
Her lips parted, a soundless laugh caught between disbelief and something deeper. For a heartbeat, she almost kissed him, almost let the weight of what they’d survived pull them together completely. But the storm’s howl broke the moment, dragging them back to the world beyond these walls.
“We should go,” she said finally.
Robert nodded. He bent to retrieve his sword, wiping it once on his sleeve before sliding it back into its scabbard. Hismovements were slower now, every step heavier, his body trembling from blood loss. Scarlett noticed and frowned.
“Ye’re barely standing.”
He gave her a look, one that might almost have been amusement. “And yet, here I am.”
“That’s not pride, Robert. That’s foolishness.”
“Call it what ye like,” he murmured. “But I’ll not fall till ye’re safe in yer bed.”
“Then let me help ye.” She moved closer, looping an arm around his waist. “Lean on me.”
He hesitated, the proud laird who’d never taken help from anyone. But something in her eyes made refusal impossible. He nodded once, quietly. “Aye. Just this once.”
They stepped out into the storm together.
“Stay close,” he said. Scarlett blinked. “Robert…”
He struck flint to steel, sparks catching on the dry thatch. Flames leapt instantly, defiant even against the rain.
Her eyes widened. “Ye’re burning it?”
“Aye,” he said without hesitation. “Let the storm take what’s left. I’ll not have this place remembered.”
The fire spread fast, orange and gold licking through the dark, its heat washing over them as they mounted the horse. Scarlett climbed first, settling in the saddle. Robert swung up behind her, wincing as the movement pulled at his wound.
“Ye shouldnae ride,” she said, twisting to look at him. “Ye’re losing too much blood.”
He only tightened his hold on her, one arm firm around her waist. “I’ve ridden through worse.”
“That’s no comfort.” “It wasn’t meant to be.”
Scarlett let out a breath of frustration. “Ye’re impossible.” Robert’s laugh came soft and weary. “So ye’ve told me.”
