20. The Language of Touch
The Language of Touch
Triona
T he moment we step out of the dense forest, the cool night air hits my skin like a balm. I hear him before I see him.
“Triona!” Callan comes barreling toward us, his face a mixture of fury and relief. His arms wrap around me in a crushing embrace, so tight I can barely breathe.
“Never run off like that again!” He exclaims, voice raw and trembling with an emotion that isn’t entirely anger. “How could ye ever think that was a good idea?”
“I—I’m sorry,” I stammer, my voice cracking. “I didn’t mean for—”
“ Sorry ?” he growls, pulling back just enough to grip my shoulders and scrutinise me. “Ye’re filthy! What in the name of all that’s divine happened in there? And where—” His voice breaks off as his eyes dart to the edge of the clearing.
Shadow.
Callan exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face.
“Of course he returns now.” I say, my voice soft and laced with frustration.
His eyes narrow at me, dark and piercing, as if searching for something deeper in my words. “What do ye mean? Ye went in there for him.”
My stomach churns as the memory of the forest comes rushing back. “I ran for as long as I could, but I lost him. I tried to stop long enough to sense what direction he’d went, but that was a mistake because... because I was attacked.”
Casey, who had been pacing nearby, stops dead in his tracks. Bran, leaning against a tree, straightens instantly, his easygoing demeanour melting away.
“What?” Casey says, his voice sharp.
“Attacked?” Bran asks, his usual smirk replaced with a furrowed brow.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to meet their incredulous stares. “There were men in the woods. They—” I swallow hard, the words sticking in my throat. “They tried to...”
Finn steps forward, his presence solid and reassuring. He places his powerful hands on my shoulders. “She fought them,” he says firmly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “And when she couldnae fight anymore, someone else... something else stepped in.”
Their gazes snap to Finn, disbelief etched across their faces.
“ Something else?” Casey asks, his voice tinged with confusion and skepticism.
“It looked like a… woman. But it wasn’t human. It… it might have been long ago, but not anymore,” I breathe. “She killed them. All of them.”
The weight of my words settles heavily over the group. Casey and Bran stare at me, their disbelief palpable. Bran opens his mouth to say something but closes it again, his usual quick wit failing him.
But Callan, he doesn’t look surprised.
His jaw tightens, his expression unreadable as his gaze flicks to Finn and back to me.
“Callan,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “You’re not surprised. Why aren’t you surprised?”
He clenches his fists, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “Not tonight, Triona,” he says tersely. “We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”
“No,” I press, stepping closer to him. “You know something. You knew something. Why won’t you—”
“Not tonight,” he snaps, his voice low and final.
“We leave now,” he says, his tone brooking no argument. “We cannae stay in this area for the night.”
“It sounds like everything was handled, Cal. Why move?” Casey argues.
“Casey,” I interject, my voice trembling slightly as I look at him and then back at Callan. “Those men… they knew me. They’ve been following us.”
The weight of my words crashes over the group. Casey’s face pales as Finn stiffens beside me, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his dagger.
“They knew exactly where I’d be,” I continue, my words rushing out in a mix of fear and anger. “One of them even said they split into groups to find us faster.”
Finn steps forward, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. “They wernae after just anyone,” he growls, his gaze flicking to Callan. “They knew her. And they knew her movements.”
Callan’s jaw works as though he’s waging a silent battle with himself. Finally, he exhales sharply. “It’s not safe to talk about here,” he says, his tone clipped. “Jus trust me when I say we cannae risk stayin’ another night.”
Finn’s glare sharpens. “Ye’re holding something back, Callan. Spit it out now, for her sake.”
Callan rounds on him, his temper flaring. “Dinnae start with me, Finn. I’ve been tryin’ to keep this from turnin’ into something worse!”
“Aye, well, felicitations,” Finn bites out. “It’s damn near worse.”
“Stop it!” I shout, stepping between them. My heart is pounding, the reality of everything crashing down on me. “Arguing will not help.”
Finn’s nostrils flare, his jaw clenched tight, but before he can speak, I turn to him. “Finn. We can wait to discuss when things have… settled.”
His chest rises and falls with slow, measured breaths. Anger still lingers in his eyes, but when he looks at me—really looks at me—something shifts. He exhales sharply through his nose, nodding once.
Callan’s mouth presses into a thin line as he nods. “We go now. I willnae risk givin’ whoever another chance to find us.”
No one argues this time. Our group moves quickly, gathering their things in tense silence. But as we step into the night, Finn stays close beside me, his hand at my back.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I’ll have more answers .
Finn’s fingers curl lightly around my arm, his warmth a quiet reassurance against the chill seeping into my bones. The weight of him at my side is the only thing keeping the gnawing uncertainty at bay.
Behind us, Callan, Bran, and Casey murmur in hushed voices, their words low and urgent, yet not so discreet as to escape my notice.
Though I cannot make out the whole of their exchange, the clipped tones and sharp glances they throw over their shoulders betray their unease.
It does little to quiet the disquiet thrumming in my chest.
Ask I continue walking at Finn’s side, another thought takes root deep within me, heavier than the rest, curling into the hollow spaces fear has left behind.
I hesitate, glancing toward Finn. The moon casts its pale glow over his features, turning the sharp lines of his face into something unreadable, almost unearthly. His grip on my arm tightens ever so slightly, the smallest gesture, yet enough to make my breath catch.
I swallow, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Finn… the others…”
His gaze snaps to mine, and I see it—the same fear twisting inside me reflected in his eyes. His voice is quiet, steady, but laced with something raw.
His fingers flex slightly around my arm, his voice just as quiet as mine. “I know, Little Doe. The same thought crossed my mind.”
A cold weight settles in my stomach.
If they faced the same danger… if they were hunted as we had been…
The mere thought of losing anyone else is enough to bring me to my knees.
I pray fate’s hand had not been crueler to them than it had been to us.
Well into the middle of the night, exhaustion finally forced us to stop. We found a place hidden well enough, concealed beneath the thick canopy of trees—no firelight to give us away .
After doing my best to clean my body, I stand at the edge of my tent, wringing my hands as Finn tends to Aisling.
His movements are slow and methodical as he runs a hand down her neck, murmuring something too quiet for me to hear.
The dim moonlight catches on the curve of his jaw, his focus so absolute it makes my request feel even more absurd.
I hesitate, the words caught somewhere between my heart and my throat.
“Finn,” I finally say, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
He glances up, his eyes immediately softening at the sight of me. “Aye, lass?”
I shift on my feet, my cheeks burn. “Would you sleep with me? In the tent, I mean.” The words tumbled out in a rush, and I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “Just for tonight.”
For a moment, he doesn’t answer, and I risk a glance at him. His brow furrows in a way that makes my chest tighten.
“You’re scared,” he says. Not a question, just a simple truth.
I nod, embarrassed, my arms folding around myself as though I can shield the vulnerability bleeding through me. “I just… I’d feel better if you were close.”
He crosses the space between us in a few quick strides, his presence grounding me before his hands even touch me.
When they do, they are gentle, steady as they grip my shoulders.
“If that’s what you want, it’s what ye’ll have,” he says, his voice quiet but resolute.
“Ye’ve no reason to be embarrassed, Tri. ”
I look up at him then, unsure if I’ve ever seen someone look at me in the same way he does—as if I am something worth protecting. The knot of tension in my chest eases, though my heart still pounds as his strong arms wrap around me, and the icy fear that grips me thaws.
“I’ll be right here,” he murmurs against the top of my head. “Always.”
And I believe him. It’s not a belief born of mere words.
It’s in the way he holds me, as if the world could shatter around us and he’d still shield me with everything he is.
The weight of his promise presses into my chest, a vow that thrums with quiet power.
In that moment, I realise he’s not just offering comfort; he’s offering a piece of himself, raw and unwavering. And I take it greedily.
“Go on inside,” Finn says gently, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. “Lie down and try to rest. I’ll not be far behind.”
Nodding, I turn and slip into the tent, the cool air inside wrapping around me as I settle onto the blankets .
I try to make myself comfortable, but I feel restless.
Finn ducks inside, his presence filling the small space as he settles down beside me.
I keep my back turned to him at first, unsure how to navigate this unfamiliar intimacy.
The rustle of the blankets as he adjusts and the steady rhythm of his breathing become my focus.
After a moment, I turn to him, the question pressing against my lips. “Finn,” I say softly, “How did you know what that... creature was saying?”