Chapter 7 #2
Annabeth nodded, her stomach fluttering nervously as she approached the horse. Marcus climbed onto the horse with slow ease then turned to extend his hand toward her, his fingers strong and inviting.
Annabeth hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand, feeling the rush of heat flood through her.
Her breath caught as their eyes locked, something unspoken passing between them, a spark of connection that took her by surprise.
With a careful breath, she swung her leg over the horse, settling herself behind him.
She adjusted her position, mindful of the space between them though she couldn’t ignore the warmth of his body against hers.
The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, both of them silent for a heartbeat.
“Hold on,” Marcus said, his voice a low command that sent a jolt of energy through her.
Annabeth nodded, her hands resting carefully on his waist, trying her best not to touch his wound. Her fingers curled just slightly, pressing gently against the fabric. She leaned in slightly, her lips near his ear as she whispered, “Take it slow, for the sake of yer wound.”
The words were more a plea than a suggestion, the worry she felt for his condition clear in her voice.
Marcus’ grip on the reins tightened, and he nodded once, acknowledging her request. He gave a slight jerk signaling for the horse to begin moving. He glanced over his shoulder to Claire, who stood watching them, a soft sadness in her eyes.
“Thank ye for yer hospitality,” he called, his voice low but respectful. Claire gave a small wave, a look of quiet understanding passing between them before she turned back to the cottage.
The horse began to move slowly, each step deliberate and careful, as Marcus guided them out of the village.
Annabeth held on, her heart beating a little faster with every movement, her body pressed close to his.
The rhythmic sound of the hooves on the dirt road was a strange comfort though her mind raced with thoughts of what lay ahead.
I am leaving behind everything for a man I barely understand. It feels wrong, but I cannae deny the pull to be near him.
As the village grew smaller in the distance, she felt an odd mix of fear and anticipation settle in her.
Marcus kept the pace steady, his posture straight and strong despite the strain of his wound.
His breath was even though Annabeth could feel the slight tremor in his body, a subtle reminder of his injury.
The landscape around them shifted as they moved farther from the village, the open fields stretching out in all directions.
How can I be on me way to the castle with the Laird when I’m a simple healer?
She drifted back to the day when she was just a young, frightened girl of nine. Abandoned by her own family in the very village she now called home, Annabeth had felt the sting of loneliness like nothing else.
But Claire, a kind woman known for her deep faith, had taken her in without hesitation.
With patient hands, Claire had taught her all she knew from the ways of healing to the simple pleasures of a good meal and a warm hearth.
Over the years, Annabeth had come to think of Claire not just as a mentor but as her mother.
As the years passed, Annabeth had become the best healer in the village.
Her reputation had spread quickly with people traveling from distant places to seek her expertise.
Though she didn’t earn a fortune, her modest income, when combined with Claire’s earnings from healing, sewing, and selling homemade goods, was enough to keep the roof over their heads.
Annabeth glanced over Marcus’ shoulder, seeing his jaw set with determination. She could see the pain he was in as he gritted his teeth due to the wound at his side and the movement of the horse’s trot.
“Are ye in pain? Should we stop?” she asked.
“Nae, I can handle it,” he said.
“If it hurts ye, it’s possible the bandage has moved and—”
“I said, I’m fine.” His voice was stern and commanding as he cut her off.
Annabeth narrowed her eyes.
This man is stubborn. Why such a brooding nature? And why does it make me feel an ache in me stomach when he speaks to me in that tone? It is not an ache of fear, but of… excitement? I hate meself for finding it intriguing. I should hate him for takin’ me from me home.
For the first time in her life, Annabeth felt a rush of uncertainty mingled with a thrilling sensation growing in the pit of her stomach. She did not understand why her body felt hot all over when their bodies touched or when his deep voice cut through the air like a knife.
She had never ventured beyond the village, and yet here she was, riding with a man whose life had become entangled with hers in ways she never imagined. She glanced up at Marcus’ back, noticing the way his muscles tensed under the strain, and wondered what drove him to make this request.
Is it just his faither’s illness, or is it something deeper, something unspoken between us?
As the journey ahead stretched out before them, Annabeth could only wonder how their paths would intertwine further. Then a thought entered her mind that she had been trying to avoid.
I'm terrified of this man because I am feeling things I have never felt before and trying to figure out what that is could lead me to destruction.