“In the best way possible,” I promised.
“And yet, you’re still shaking,” he observed.
“I know.” I was. I’d had a lot of highs and lows today, and adrenaline still worked its way through my body.
“Come here.” He pulled me against his side, tucking me under his arm despite the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. “Just breathe. I’m here. I’m alive. We’ll figure out the rest.”
“Will we?”
“We always do.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Well. The Order always does. I’m just along for the ride at this point.”
“Some ride.”
“Best ride of my life.” He was quiet for a moment. “Agnes?”
“Mm?”
“What you did today…going into the loch after me...” His voice was rough. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever known someone to do.”
“That wasn’t bravery. That was sheer bloody terror. I couldn’t …” I shook my head, unable to finish my words.
“Maybe they’re the same thing.” His arms tightened around me. “Either way. Thank you for not letting me go.”
I turned my face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him—loch water and wool and something underneath that was just Graham. Just home.
“I’ll never let go,” I said. “That’s the whole point. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place.”
“And it’s what’s going to get us out.” He tilted my chin up so I was looking at him. “Two challenges down, Agnes. One to go. And you’re not alone anymore. Whatever comes next, we face it together.”
Together. The word should have been comforting, but all I could think about was the Beithir in the loch. The curse coiling around Graham like chains. The truth I still didn’t know, hiding somewhere in the shadows of three hundred years.
“Together,” I echoed and tried to believe it.
Clyde wandered over and attempted to lay his ghostly head in my lap, which didn’t work because he was incorporeal, but the gesture was sweet. I reached out to pat him anyway, my hand passing through cold air.
“Thanks, Clyde.”
He bellowed softly, more of a small rumble, and settled at our feet like a very large, very cold guard dog.
Outside, the sun was setting over Loch Mirren,painting the water gold and crimson. It looked both beautiful and deadly. The loch had been both for as long as I could remember.
Tomorrow, we’d look for answers. Tomorrow, Orla would try to reach the spirit. Tomorrow, we would dig through the archives for any scrap of information about Isobel and her motives.
But tonight, I sat with Graham and tried to memorize the feeling of his heart beating against my cheek.
Alive. Still alive.
And then either the curse would break, or it would finally take everything I had left to lose.
CHAPTER TWENTY
GRAHAM
We tumbled through the door of our room at the castle, Agnes laughing against my mouth, her fingers tangled in my hair. I kicked the door shut behind us and pressed her against it, kissing her like I’d been starving for her, which I had been.
Almost drowning in a loch put things into perspective.
I supposed it made you realize what mattered.
