Page 48

“I couldnae sleep,” she admitted, looking up at the broad, clear canopy of stars stretching across the dark Highland sky.

Brodie let out a long, quiet breath that formed a thick cloud in the frost. He stared toward the dark silhouette of the outer gates. “I often come out here when me mind refuses to quiet. The stars daenae care about land deeds, council hearings, or broken vows. They just stay where they are.”

Sheona drew her knees up beneath her cloak, resting her chin against her forearms as she looked at him. “I am terrified, Brodie.”

Brodie’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. He turned his head slowly, his dark amber eyes catching the moonlight as he watched her.

“I am terrified that nae matter what I choose tomorrow…” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly before she caught herself and cleared her throat. “…nae matter what I sign, or say, or fight for, someone else will always step forward to decide me future. First me father. Then the Council. Then you.”

Brodie remained silent for a long moment, the quiet wind the only sound between them. It was a comfortable, easy silence—a stillness they had never shared before, free of defensive barbs or sharp retorts. He didn’t offer empty reassurances or easy promises. He sat beside her, his broad shoulder a steady, warm weight against the biting cold.

Sheona looked back up at the vast, glittering expanse above them, her breath catching softly in her throat.

“Do ye think they are up there?” she asked quietly, her gaze tracing a bright cluster of white light above the eastern crags. “The people we have lost? Me brother… yer family?”

Brodie followed her gaze toward the heavens. A long, heavy silence stretched between them, so long that Sheona thought he might not answer at all.

“Nae,” Brodie said softly, his deep voice carrying a quiet, resonant gravity. He shifted, bringing his large, calloused hand up and pressing his broad palm flat over his chest, right over his heart. “I think they live here. As long as we remember them.”

Sheona’s chest constricted with sudden, overwhelming warmth. Without thinking—without letting her mind weigh the risk, the debt, or the fear—she reached out from beneath her cloak and laid her hand directly over his broad knuckles.

Brodie froze for a fraction of a second. Then, without an instant’s hesitation, his fingers turned, sliding smoothly between hers. He closed his large, warm hand tight around hers, intertwining their fingers. His broad thumb began a slow, rhythmic stroke back and forth across the back of her cold knuckles, his rough skin warm against hers.

Sheona’s breath hitched. She shifted on the stone bench, sliding closer to him until the wool of her cloak lay flat against his side. She leaned in, turning her face upward until only a hair’s breadth of freezing air separated their lips.

This time, Brodie did not step back. He did not ask for permission. He did not issue a sharp warning or build another wall of stone between them.

He dropped his cup into the grass. In one fluid, powerful motion, he brought his free hand up, wrapping his long fingers into the thick, dark waves of hair at the nape of her neck, while his other arm slid around her waist, pulling her flush against his broad chest.

He leaned down and kissed her fiercely.

The impact of his lips was warm, hard, and utterly unyielding, sweeping away the cold night air in a single, breathless instant. Sheona let out a soft, sharp gasp against his mouth, her fingers tightening around the rough fabric of his tunic, holding onto him as if the earth had tilted beneath her feet. His thumb caressed the line of her jaw, his touch possessive and deep, demanding everything she had kept locked away for weeks.

When he finally pulled back half an inch, Sheona rested her forehead flat against his, her chest heaving, her pulse hammering wildly against her ribs. She drew in a shaky, breathless gasp as a flush rose hot and bright across her cheeks.

“Nae here,” she whispered, her voice thick with a sudden, teasing warmth as a tiny smile touched her lips. “Someone might see.”

Brodie’s dark eyes burned into hers through the moonlight, his breath coming in fast, heavy clouds against her skin. He didn’t say a word.

He stood up in a single, swift motion, bringing her up with him. Keeping one heavy arm wrapped firmly around her waist, his hand resting warm against the small of her back, he led her across the silent, frosty courtyard.

They moved quickly through the shadows of the stone archway, their boots echoing softly in the dark lower corridor. Brodie reached the heavy oak door of his private study, pushed it open, and guided her inside. He reached behind him, sweeping the heavy timber door shut until the iron latch fell into place, locking out the cold, the keep, and the world beyond.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The moment the latch fell, the world contracted to the space between them. The heavy oak door was a shield against the cold, the keep, and every rule that had kept them apart. The only light came from the low-burning peat fire in the hearth, casting a warm, flickering glow that made the study’s shadows dance like silent spirits.

Sheona barely had time to draw a breath before Brodie’s hands were on her. One fisted in the heavy wool of her cloak, pulling her against him with a force that stole the air from her lungs. The other cupped her face, his thumb stroking the curve of her cheekbone with a roughness that was both a question and an answer.

He walked her backward, his movements sure and powerful, until her spine met the cool, solid stone of the wall. The impact was a shock, but the heat of his body pressing against hers was an inferno.

“Brodie…” she started, but the name dissolved into a soft moan as his mouth found the sensitive column of her throat.

He kissed her with so much hunger, his lips and teeth exploring the skin where her pulse hammered wild and frantic. The scrape of his stubble was a delicious friction against her flesh. His free hand worked at the ties of her cloak, his fingers impatient and sure, tugging at the knots until the heavy wool fell away with a soft thud and pooled at her feet.

The sudden chill of the air on her thin shift made her shiver.

“I have been drivin’ meself mad,” he murmured against her skin, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her entire body, settling deep in her core. “All those long weeks. Tryin’ to keep me distance, fightin’ me own wild nature every time ye stepped into the room. Did ye think I didnae notice how completely ye took hold of me?”