Chapter Twenty-One #3
“No,” she whispered, moving away from her house and into the stream of incoming mounted men. She was swallowed by the chaos. A rider’s leg shoved her sideways, and a horse’s powerful haunch spun her around. Panic seized her—she would be trampled right here in front of her own home.
“Morggán!” she called, but the sound was swallowed by the noise of the frantic return. She pushed on, going against the tide, using her arms and hands to wedge herself between so much horseflesh. “Morggán!” she shouted again, louder this time.
He was fine, she told herself. She had no reason to think otherwise—and she was going to keep telling herself that until something said otherwise.
Avery coughed as dust from the horde choked her. It hindered sight as well, and she waved her hand in front of her, searching for his face, hoping to God he wasn’t returning face down over the big black horse he’d ridden.
She heard his voice before she saw him, and her whole body went slack with relief.
“Tormod, take yer men north and clear the ridges! Water the steeds now, ere we ride again!”
She was bumped once again, too busy trying to find him when she heard him curse.
“Bluidy hell—Avery!”
And then his hand connected with her, his fingers closing tightly around hers.
“Get up here,” he ground out, easily hauling her up into the saddle with him.
She landed hard, nearly having the breath knocked from her, but she clasped him tightly, tipping her face up to his as a raw sound of relief escaped her. “I thought you were—”
“I am well,” he assured her, his voice rough with urgency. “God’s breath, Avery, ye dinna tangle yerself inside steeds moving,” he said, maneuvering the big destrier directly toward her house.
At her door, he dismounted swiftly and pulled her from the horse as well. Clasping her hand again, he marched her straight inside, and only when the door was between them and the churning mass of horses did his grip on her hand loosen.
He looked exhausted and grim beneath streaks of mud and sweat, his cloak darkened near one shoulder with fresh blood that thankfully did not appear to be his own.
Charlie danced anxiously around them.
Without preamble, Morggán explained, “The English moved north against us. They’re pushing into the forest now—on our trail. We’ve little time.”
Avery stared at him. “They’re coming here?”
“Aye—perhaps nae directly. But they’ll flood these woods with troops by dawn. Avery, I fear we’ve nae choice but to leave. Now.”
She nodded, pretending she wasn’t destroyed by this news—the English were about to descend on her house and Morggán was preparing to leave.
“Okay.” She gulped down a swallow and glanced around, frantic all over again. “Okay,” she repeated, staring blindly around her house, her brow knitting. “I understand. I’ll just pack up a few things. I’ll go straight to the hollow—”
Morggán tugged impatiently at her hand, drawing her gaze.
His scowl was instant and stormy, his gray eyes fixed upon her.
“I said I would nae leave ye, did I not? Our plans have changed, but that hasnae. Ye will come with me, Avery. We will go to Ard Cael.”
She stared at him in disbelief before slowly pulling her hand free.
“I can’t.”
“Avery—”
“No.” She shook her head, backing away. “I can’t go with you, not when....”
He stepped toward her, stopping when only an arm's length separated them.
“I still canna fathom what ye’ve told me,” he said, his voice hard.
“I've turned it over in my mind a hundred times, and I still canna comprehend it. But it dinna matter—whether ye've crossed seven hundred years or whether grief has carried ye somewhere I canna follow... ye’re still Avery.” He took another step closer.
“And wherever ye came from—however ye came here—none of it changes that I canna lose ye.”
The words emerged rough, almost angry in their honesty.
“I’ve failed ye again, Avery, bringing the English to what ye cherish, but nae more.
Still, if I must carry ye from this house against yer will, then that’s what I’ll do, but I’d far rather ye came because ye wished to.
” He held her gaze calmly. “It seems I dinna need to understand ye to know I canna lose ye.” He looked earnestly at her, but it was tinged by a hint of remorse.
“I’ve missed ye... just being with ye. I dinna want to be without ye. ”
She blinked rapidly, astounded. “That sounds like... are you saying you’re in love with me?” The very idea startled her. She had not allowed herself to hope for such a thing—not consciously, at least—but in the instant she spoke the words, she realized it was exactly what she longed to hear.
“Aye, it does sound that way.”
His gray eyes never left hers, and she saw neither judgment nor anger just now.
“But I thought—”
“Avery,” he cut her off. “We need to go. We can name it later, but ye need to come with me now. This place has been yer refuge, and I'm sorry for what war will nae doubt bring to it. I’ve failed ye twice in as many days. But I vow I'll spend the rest of our lives seeing that I never fail ye again.”
The rest of our lives.
Tears welled in her eyes, and a slow smile, filled with joy, broke.
She nodded through her tears. “Okay.’’