Chapter Twenty-Seven
Evie paced the length of her bedchamber, biting her thumbnail. They had barred themselves inside. Panic settled into the center of her chest. Her back ached. Her feet hurt. But she refused to stop pacing. She refused to rest until her family was home.
“Eve, you’ll wear yourself out.”
Chloe sat in the chair by the fireplace, her hands clasped in her lap. She seemed far too calm.
“How can you sit there like that? Aren’t you worried about Malcolm?”
“Of course, I am.” Her voice cracked with emotion.
Evie halted. Her sister’s face was creased with worry and fear. But still she managed to sit there, rigid and stiff, her hands clenched in her lap.
“I’m terrified my baby will grow up without a father,” she whispered.
Her mouth went dry as surprise flooded through her. Hot pinpricks danced up her spine as her sister’s words sank in. Then she hurried to her, dropping to her knees in front of her, and taking her cold hands in hers.
“You’re…pregnant?” Evie asked.
Chloe’s big green eyes were glassy as she looked up at her, nodding. “He doesn’t know yet.”
“Oh, Chlo. Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I didn’t want him to stay because he felt he had to. He’s a warrior at heart, Eve. He wanted to fight with his brothers. And now I don’t know if he’ll make it back.”
She squeezed her hands. “Of course, he will. And so will the others. I have to believe that.”
A knock sounded on the door. Chloe sucked in a breath as Evie’s gaze flew to the door. They stilled, each one holding their breath.
“Who could that be?” Chloe asked.
Evie shook her head to indicate she didn’t know.
Another knock. Then, a shout. “My lady, are ye in there?”
“Dougal!”
Evie shot to her feet and hurried to the door. She shoved aside the bar and flung it open. Then she fell into his arms, hugging him tight.
“I thought you were with the others,” she said.
“Och, aye, I was, but Roslyn made me stay behind to make sure ye were all right.”
“Stay behind? What do you mean?” Her brows drew together in question.
“When she released ye all, she rode to clan Sinclair for help,” he said. “She dinnae want ye to know because she knew ye’d try to stop her.”
Hot tears sprang to her eyes. “She’s going to send them to help.”
“Aye.”
She hugged him again. Behind her, Chloe whimpered. When she turned to face her, she saw tears slipping down her cheeks.
“They’re going to be all right,” Chloe said, her words wobbling with relief.
Though she wasn’t too sure, Evie nodded, praying Angus and his men made it to the ruins before it was too late.
*
They made it to the top of the slope, entering the crumbling walls of the castle ruins.
Rory’s great axe glowed with a fierceness that did not bode well for what was to come.
Brianna’s heart was in her throat, her nerves shot.
Next to her, Jamie. His hands were bound in front of him.
She chanced a glance in his direction. His eyes met hers.
In them, she saw the despair and regret and a silent apology.
He didn’t need to apologize for trying to save her. It was the single most romantic thing that had ever happened to her before, even if they were going to die together on this hill, in these ruins. She would forever love Jamie for that.
The thought banged into her with such force, she swayed on her feet. The guard behind her put a hand in the center of her back to keep her steady. His palm was hot, searing through her woolen gown.
And while she tried to ignore that, she could not ignore the thought of loving Jamie that insisted on beating against her head.
She loved the way he smiled at her with his deep dimples.
She loved the way his eyes glinted with adoration when he looked at her.
She loved the way he doted on her and took care of her, even when she tried to shove him away and insisted she was an independent, strong woman.
She loved him with her whole heart.
She had never loved anyone that way. Not even the man she’d married under the neon glow of a Las Vegas chapel.
As she stood there, basking in the glow of her love for Jamie, she also faced fear. Fear they would not survive this night. Fear she would fail. Fear she could not alter the timeline. Fear she would never be able to tell Jamie how much she loved him.
And fear she would never be able to stand in front of their kin while their hands were bound together and they pledged their lives to each other forever.
Because every piece of her wanted that. She’d longed for the fairy tale.
Now, as she looked at him, with tears threatening, she understood the moment she’d landed here, in this time, she was living the fairy tale.
He was her knight in shining armor. Her prince.
Her soulmate. And she may never have the chance to tell him.
“Jamie, I—”
“Bring her to the center,” Rory said.
He halted in the center of the ruins and turned to face them.
The guard still had a hand on her back and gave her a shove.
Jamie objected to that by surging forward, jerking against the men holding him.
Brianna forced her feet to walk, moving toward the enemy.
The one man who insisted on destroying all that she had come to love.
This land. That man. Her sisters’ husbands who had become her family as much as the twins.
She lifted her chin and gave him her best defiant glare.
“Now, lass, ’tis time to use that wee stone of yer’s.”
“You have to untie me first,” she said, her voice strong and sure. She was proud of herself for that.
He jerked a nod to the man standing behind her. She felt him tug at the knot and then the ropes fell away. She dropped her hands to her sides, the feeling returning in a whoosh and sending pinpricks to her fingers and palm.
“And I need a knife,” she said.
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”
She held up her scarred palm. “Blood magic.”
He stared at her in contemplation, as if trying to decide if he should hand over a dagger to her or not. Finally, he pulled a dagger from his belt and handed it, hilt first, to the man behind her.
“Do it,” he ordered.
“Brianna—” Jamie started, and then a muffled thud.
She turned in time to see one of the henchmen smacking him in the side of the head with the butt of his sword.
Fury burst through her.
The guard behind her moved to stand in front of her. She held up her hand, ready for the slice across her palm. But something caught the man’s attention. The shuffling of feet at the entrance to the ruins. More of MacDonald’s men brought Callum and Malcolm.
A smile creased Rory’s face. “MacLeod,” he said in greeting. “Are ye ready to see the end of yer clan?”
Callum’s face was impassive as he peered at the man, concealing all his emotion. Malcolm, too, remained calm and expressionless.
“’Tis no’ the end,” Jamie said.
“We shall see,” Rory said. Then to his man, “Get on with it.”
“Wait,” she said, seconds before the dagger sliced. “It won’t work without the stone.”
Rory waited. She stalled. She cut a glance to Jamie. He gave an imperceptible shake of his head as if to say, don’t do it. But she had to.
“She doesn’t have it. He does,” Bruce announced, pushing forward from the back of the crowd. He had a lump on the side of his head as he glared at Brianna and then Jamie.
“Bring him forward.” Rory used his great axe to point to Jamie.
The men shoved him forward. Her heart raced as he stopped next to her. She tried hard not to look at him but it was nearly impossible. His imploring expression said everything he couldn’t. She knew he didn’t want to give her the stone, but at this point, he had no choice.
“Release him so he can give me the stone,” she said, using her best demanding tone.
Rory continued to glare at her until finally he gave the go-ahead nod to one of his henchmen. He cut the ropes off Jamie’s wrists. She turned to him. He reached into his sporran and brought out the now whole keystone. The lines were faintly glowing and she thought for sure she heard the soft hum.
Their eyes met for a long moment. He placed it in his palm—the one with the brand—and lifted it to her.
As she reached for it, he said in a low whisper, “One destiny.”
The words pounded through her as she plucked the stone from his hand. Something he’d said in the tent came back to her.
The tapestries changed. I’m the one on the hill with ye. No’ yer sisters.
She grasped the stone in her fist, her gaze never leaving his. “Two bloodlines?”
He nodded.
Her heart leapt to her throat as she turned back to the man holding the knife. Everything clicked into place then. He was the one on the hill with her—he was the one who was part of her destiny. He was the one who had to help her shift the timeline.
He would also need to slice open his hand.
Blood magic.
But not just her blood. His, too.
“Now, lass,” Rory said. “It’s time to give me that power.”
She clenched her jaw so hard, her teeth ached. She held out her hand with the newly healed cut.
“Do it,” she said.
She hadn’t a clue what would happen once her hand bled and she placed the now glowing, now humming whole keystone in her fist. With her stomach in a knot, she held her breath as the man sliced open her skin.
Blood welled as she sucked in a sharp breath. The humming of the stone grew louder.
But before she closed her fist around it, shouts rose up from the foot of the hill. Shouts and the thunderous pounding of horses. One of Rory’s men burst into the castle ruins, out of breath and red faced.
“It’s the Sinclairs!”
Rory roared his frustration. The great axe flared to life. In one swift motion, he sliced open the air between them. The seam sparkled and shimmered and then pulled apart, bursting with light long enough to blind them all.
Rory MacDonald had unleashed hell.
“Now, Brianna!” Jamie shouted.
She was frozen in place, unable to move as she held her hand open with the stone sitting neatly in the middle of a pool of blood.
Everything happened so fast, she was paralyzed with indecision.