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“If nothing changes in the next two months,” Mandy had said, pointing at the computer screen with many red numbers. “We’re bankrupt, Kate. We’re on the streets.”

She’d said it in that lifeless voice she always got during her depression episodes.

“This Logan Robertson TV thing is our last chance. Please, don’t screw it up.”

Kate had taken her sister’s hands in hers and squeezed them.

“I won’t, Mandy, I promise. You know I won’t let anything happen to you and Jax.”

And then, in a flash, came Inverlochy Castle—or rather, its ruins. Logan talking on the phone by the gates. A red-haired woman in a green cloak enjoying Kate’s sandwich.

Sìneag.

…the rock this castle has been built upon, that is saturated with the powerful magic of time travel.

Time travel… The ground had shifted under Kate’s feet as she’d remembered tumbling into disorienting darkness, striking her head on the stairs, the shining symbols on a rock, and her placing her hand into the handprint.

And the feeling of falling through the stone. Another skull-splitting hit.

And then Ian.

After that memory came to her, the rest had followed.

She now knew who she was—Kate Anderson, a thirty-one-year-old woman from Cape Haute, New Jersey. The owner of Deli Luck, living with her sister, Mandy, and her nephew, Jax.

In 2020.

No matter how crazy it sounded, Kate knew she’d fallen through time. Just like Sìneag had said.

So Kate wasn’t crazy. But she was living through a crazy thing. And she wasn’t sure which one was worse.

She breathed easier now that the reality of who she was had become clear. Knowing that she wasn’t crazy after all was soothing and released the tension in the pit of her stomach.

What she knew for sure was that no one in her life had ever taken care of her as Ian had. He’d freed her, for God’s sake. He cared enough to kill for her.

No one in her life in the future would sacrifice so much for her. She didn’t think anyone would ever care about her like that.

Oh yes, she’d seen Ian’s livid face when he’d confronted those men. He’d become someone else. He’d been a death machine. Every movement fast and calculated, efficient. Every hit meeting the aim.

He was terrifying. To others.

Not to her.

But was she safe with him? Should she be afraid of him? He’d killed an unarmed man in his battle rage. Could he have as easily killed her without even realizing it?

No. She didn’t believe that. He would have stopped. Somehow he would have known.

She was safe with him. She knew it in her heart.

She’d never felt safer than she did with her back pressed against his torso, his arms around her as he held Thor’s reins, his warm breath in her ear. A man like that wouldn’t leave her in trouble.

Unlike Logan Robertson.

Or her previous boyfriends, who had sooner or later bailed on her. Who would want to go out with a woman who worked twelve hours a day?

She had so many questions for Ian. How had he found her in the woods? Where had he been last night? Had he seen her message? Where had he learned to fight like that?

But she had an even bigger question for herself: What now?