“And that?”
“Less.”
He exhaled slowly. “It’s nae broken.”
“Thank heavens,” she murmured.
His gaze lifted to hers, still simmering with worry. “Ye frightened me,” he admitted gruffly.
Her breath caught at the confession. “I didnae mean to.”
“I ken that,” he said quietly. “But ye must heed me when I say daenae wonder far.”
She held his gaze. “I daenae like feelin’ helpless.”
He softened slightly. “Ye’re nae helpless,” he said firmly. “But there’s no shame in acceptin’ help either.”
He slipped an arm around her waist. “I’m liftin’ ye,” he warned.
“I gathered some wood at least,” she muttered.
He gave a short huff of laughter despite himself. “Aye, ye did.”
With careful strength, he lifted her from the pit, settling her against him once they reached level ground. She clutched his shoulders, acutely aware of his solid warmth beneath her palms.
“Next time,” he said quietly, “stay where I can see ye.”
She met his eye, her heart beating hard for reasons beyond fear. “Aye,” she whispered.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Ian had heard Arianna’s scream tear through the trees, his blood ran cold. For one terrible heartbeat, he thought of ambush, of enemies lurking beyond his sight, of her small body crumpling beneath unseen hands. He had not known fear like that in years, not since battlefields and burning crofts had scarred him inside and out. And in that instant, he swore he would not stand breathing if anything had happened to her.
He had reached the pit in a matter of breaths, fury already rising like a storm in his chest. When he saw her sitting there, dirt-smudged and wide-eyed rather than attacked, relief struck him so hard it felt like pain.
Now that he carried her safely in his arms back to camp, relief flooded through him.
“Yer hair,” he said bluntly. “Ye look like a woodland sprite who lost a fight with a bramble bush.”
Her mouth fell open. “I am injured, and ye mock me?”
“I am relieved,” he corrected dryly. “There’s a difference.”
She huffed, attempting to get down from his embrace to stand on her own. “Nay, I am nae letting ye out of me arms. And ye should be more careful,” he said, voice turning firm again.
“I was careful,” she insisted. “I simply misjudged.”
“Ye wandered,” he countered. “I told ye nae to.”
She folded her arms despite leaning heavily against him. “I can walk by meself.”
“Can ye?” he challenged.
“Aye,” she said stubbornly. “Put me down.”
He ignored her entirely.
“Ian McGuire, I said, put me down!”
