Chapter Seven #2
Even so, he lifted her palm to his lips and pressed a kiss in the center.
A breath shuddered out of her at the unexpected tenderness.
Butterflies erupted in the pit of her stomach, a feeling she had not had in so many years, she almost didn’t recognize it.
Her pulse quickened, thrumming under the surface.
But she knew it for what it was—raw, undeniable attraction.
“Jamie, I—”
“Mayhap I shouldna have kissed ye, lass, but I cannae resist.”
She blinked, surprised by the admission. “You don’t even know me.”
A hint of a smile played upon his lips. “I’ve watched and waited for ye to arrive.”
At that, her heart thudded hard against her chest. There was something endearing about the way he said it. Something that made her pulse race in concert with the fluttering that had taken up residence in her gut. Even so, there had to be a real explanation for that.
“Because of my sisters. They told you I would come?”
“Nay.” He shook his head.
“No?” The butterflies continued to flutter. She resisted the urge to press her hand against her stomach to calm them.
“When ye first appeared in the tapestries, I couldna wait to see yer face.” His gaze flickered to hers, locking with hers.
For a moment, she was stunned into silence. She had no idea what he meant by these tapestries, but she was more than intrigued. And what did he mean, she appeared in them? It didn’t make sense to her. She drew her brows together.
“What tapestries?” she asked.
“Did yer sisters no tell ye about them?”
She flushed hot with her chagrin. “I’m afraid they didn’t tell me much before I stormed out.”
Regret pounded through her as she recalled her reaction to the news she was destined to travel back in time. And something else about a prophecy. She hadn’t stuck around to find out what that meant. She didn’t believe in destinies or prophecies. She believed in free will and choice.
“What did they tell ye?” he asked, curious.
“That there was some prophecy that brought us here.” She snorted derision and shook her head.
“Ye dinnae believe it?”
“Should I?”
He laughed. “Oh, aye, I think ye should.”
She tugged her hand from his and walked toward the edge of the loch. “I have never believed in such things. Destiny and prophecy are intangible. Just as I don’t believe in soulmates. They make you believe something that isn’t real. And drive you to make bad decisions.”
“And yet ye hold the third piece of the keystone. The piece that represents the Future.”
She snapped her head at him. “I don’t understand.”
He heaved a sigh and ran a hand over his chin. “I should leave it for yer sisters to explain.”
He turned away and started for the horses. Brianna grabbed his arm and pulled him back to her.
“Tell me, Jamie. What does it mean my piece represents the Future. I’d really like to know.”
A tawny brow lifted. “Are ye sure, lass?”
She nodded.
“Very well then. Evie’s stone represents the Present. Chloe’s the Past. Yours the Future. The keystone controls all of Time.”
“All of Time?” she asked.
This sounded too far-fetched for her.
“Ye dinnae believe it?” he asked.
She considered it. Perhaps if she threw out all logic and accepted the fact that these small pieces of rock could actually send them through time, she’d believe it.
If that were the case, then why did they all three end up in the same place, in the same year?
Why not scatter them across various eras of time?
“Aye, I can see ye dinnae believe it.”
“It’s not that, it’s…”
“Did yer sister no tell ye about the prophecy?”
“Well, she mentioned it but—”
“Then I will, though I dinnae think it to be my place,” he interrupted.
Brianna blew out an annoyed breath. “Fine. Then tell me about this ‘prophecy.’” She put the word prophecy in air quotes, then crossed her arms over her chest.
“When the stars align and the shadows of chaos eclipse the sun once again, the time will come to unite a warrior’s heart and a maiden’s grace.
Together, they’ll reunite the pieces of the keystone and protect it, to safeguard it for time eternal.
Three pieces of stone. Two ancient bloodlines. One divine destiny.”
He had clearly memorized this as he said it with confidence.
“A warrior’s heart and a maiden’s grace,” she repeated, amused. “You the warrior, me the maiden?”
He nodded.
She wanted to laugh. She hadn’t been a maiden in several years.
“Do ye no’ see? Y’re here to reunite the pieces of the stone.
You, Brianna, have the third piece. Three pieces of stone—Past, Present, Future.
Two ancient bloodlines—MacLeod and Sinclair.
” When he said his surname, he thumbed at his chest. When he said hers, he motioned to her.
“One divine destiny—all of us together.”
Gooseflesh erupted all over her skin. She dropped her arms and squared her shoulders as she locked gazes with him.
He was deadly serious. There was no snarky grin on his face.
He wasn’t kidding around. He meant everything he said—he spoke of the prophecy as though it were something to be revered.
He believed the words with his whole heart.
“Well, then,” she muttered. “I guess that means I’m screwed.”