Page 107 of Enchantment of a Highlander

Ruadh had eased inside the cottage behind her, something he had not yet done with this new place. He sat on her with his furry wet bottom resting against her sodden shoes.

“That was too close, Ruadh.”

The hearth had gone cold and a chill settled in her bones, but she didn’t dare light a fire. She would chance a precious candle when night fell, but for now the slice of light under the door would have to do.

“You saved my life today, Ruadh,” she said in the same gentle voice she used for sick children. “If it weren’t for your sacrifice, I would have been killed.”

He stepped close to her, his shiny black nose twitching with each delicate sniff.

“You fought valiantly and will forever bear the mark.” Her heart hung on her words and she realized she spoke them for herself as much as for him. “I need to tend to your wound because if you become sick after what you did for me…” Her voice cracked and his head cocked to the side.

“I’d never forgive myself.” The tears came freely now, flowing down her cheeks. They choked from her clogged throat and poured from her heart.

Ruadh edged closer to her and slid his warm muzzle under her hand. She dabbed some clean linen into an herbed vinegar mixture. “Forgive me if this hurts,” she whispered. The cloth touched the wound and a high-pitched whine sounded deep in his throat.

But he did not run from her.

She blew a gentle stream of air on the wound where the vinegar mixture stung the tender skin, but he flicked his ear and gave her an irritated look.

“Too brave for childish coddling?” She gently rubbed the fur at his neck with one hand and reached for the juniper ointment with the other. “This will keep your wound clean so you heal faster.”

She gingerly brushed the salve over his torn skin until the fur around the wound glistened. Her heart winced with each gentle stroke, feeling the pain he bravely did not show.

She capped the jar of ointment and set it aside. Ruadh followed the action with his amber eyes, then rested his chin on her leg. Her fingertips skimmed the top of his soft head, caring, soothing. His eyes closed.

She gazed down at him and the knot returned to her throat. She had come so close to losing him.

Pain squeezed her heart, her stomach, her whole being. She’d been irrational all these years to think she could avoid relationships. Shunning people had not kept her free of implicating others—she’d just fooled herself into thinking such.

And Alec had shown her what could happen when she did open her heart and allow someone in.

She closed her eyes and embraced the ache swelling in her throat. He had shown her the beauty of love, everything wonderful and sweet she could experience in life.

Everything she had denied herself.

In leaving, she’d thought she was saving him.

And now she realized she’d sacrificed for naught.

• • •

Alec’s shoulder skimmed the stone wall as he wound his way up the narrow staircase behind the guard at Aros Castle. Duncan followed behind, his steps echoing off the stone with a hesitation indicating he didn’t feel any more comfortable following the guard than Alec did.

“Ye’re no going to tell me what this is about, then?” Alec asked for the fifth time.

The guard, once again, did not answer.

The clench of unease in Alec’s gut tightened and he let his fingertips graze the cool hilt of his blade for reassurance. If this was some kind of trap, surely they would have made him remove his weapon.

They could defend themselves still.

He glanced behind him and raised his eyebrows at Duncan. The boy curled his fingers around the dagger at his side and nodded.

The guard halted and opened a thick banded door. The clacking of the handle echoed around them and curled down to the blackness below. Golden light from the other side splashed onto the stairs.

“This way,” the guard muttered.

Alec strode into the room with an edge to his confidence, fully prepared to fight.