Chapter 35
Wolfe
We walked away from the stone arches as black clouds gathered in the sky overhead, rolling green hills spreading out as far as the eye could see.
At some point during the attack, Niamh’s horse had fled.
I hoped it had run back to Fairwitch Isle, but that meant we’d be on foot for our journey home. Not ideal with the darkening sky.
Grunts and muffled cries rang out behind us, and I glanced backward to see the two remaining brotherhood attackers writhing, tied to the stones with their mouths gagged.
I glanced over at Niamh, my lips twitching as I looked at her, knowing that the compassion she showed them was another reason I loved her.
I did love her. I loved her so fucking much. I just didn’t know how to tell her again without messing it all up, and right now didn’t seem like the best time. Her jaw was locked, fists clenched, and she marched in front of me, not bothering to look back.
“Niamh, are you all right?” I reached for her, and she jerked away, not answering. Something was definitely wrong.
“Morton is headed back to Fairwitch Isle right now. He’s safe.”
That stopped her, and she turned her head, almost looking back at me, but then continued onward. Thunder growled, the land shaking around us, and fat droplets began to fall from the sky.
“Niamh,” I said again, but she kept walking.
What in the fuck was going on?
“Niamh!” I ran to catch up with her. “Will you talk to me? Are you hurt?”
I looked down at my own wounds. They were still bleeding, but luckily they were superficial. I’d need a few stitches, but I’d be okay.
“Yes,” she said. “I am hurt.”
My blood turned to ice, and I grabbed her arms, facing her toward me. “Where? Who did this to you?” I opened the flaps of her cloak, searching for any signs of wounds. “Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
She shoved me and closed her cloak. “I’m not hurt physically, Wolfe.”
She turned again and started walking.
I shoved a hand through my hair. Lightning split the sky above, and the wind picked up, bitingly cold, as I once again caught up with her. “What is going on? You never shy away from speaking your feelings, so why won’t you talk to me?”
“Because you left me!” she burst out.
Her words hit me, and I took a step back, remembering all the things Morton had told me. “Left you?”
She threw up her hands. “You left me. You kissed me like no man has ever kissed me before, you made me feel things—” Her voice broke. “You ran away like a coward, and I’m realizing that I’m very angry about it.”
I swore under my breath.
“I came after you because for some stupid reason, I can’t let you go. I’ve only known you for a little over a month, yet it feels like your soul is entwined so deeply with mine that I hear your voice everywhere, in every situation.”
My lips twitched again, and her eyes bugged as another crack of lightning flashed above.
“This is when you choose to smile?” She let out a frustrated cry. “When I’m admitting to you that I’m in love with you? That I’m so hopelessly in love with a man who clearly doesn’t feel the same way and I’m just now realizing that after chasing after him through the hillsides of Aubergn?”
“Niamh—” I said softly as she started pacing.
“I am such a fool. You’ve probably had a million amazing kisses because you’re an amazing kisser, and I’m projecting my feelings onto you.
I’ve read too many romance novels and truly thought I’d chase after you and you’d realize how much you loved me back and we’d live happily ever after. Oh, I’m going to kill Harriet.”
“But Niamh—”
She held up a hand. “Let’s forget this ever happened. Let’s get back to Fairwitch Isle, and you can run away again or continue guarding Cillian or live in your cabin chopping wood for the rest of your days, and I’ll leave you be.”
“Don’t you dare,” I growled, the thought of never seeing her again cracking me right open.
She stopped like she was just realizing there was another person with her, and I wondered if she’d meant to say all of that to herself. “What?” She blinked, rain trickling down the sides of her face, plastering her long red hair to her body.
“Niamh.” I grabbed her shoulders and squeezed gently. “I’m not good with words. You’ve probably realized that by now. I’m not good with people. I’m not good at much other than being alone.”
She swallowed thickly, any hope left in her eyes flickering out.
“But ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to be better at one thing.”
“What’s that?” she whispered.
“Deserving you.”
She let out a ragged breath.
“That’s why I left Fairwitch Isle. I didn’t know how to tell you all the things I’m feeling, so I thought I could show you. I wanted to go to your tower and find your jar of firebugs, to bring them back so you’d never have to be cold again after you gave away the damn statue.”
“Oh.” She sucked in a shaky breath.
“I’ve messed up so many times, and I didn’t think my words, even if I could manage them, would be enough. I thought to seek your forgiveness, I needed to do something big, something romance worthy like in one of your books.”
Niamh let out a sob.
“This is why I don’t use my words.” I thumbed away a tear, but it didn’t really matter with the rain streaking down her cheeks. “Now I’ve made you cry.”
She grabbed my face and brought my mouth down to hers, kissing me hard. Warmth filled my entire body as her lips moved against mine, rain pelting us, her mouth wet and slick and tasting like roses.
“Happy tears,” she said between kisses. “They’re happy tears. You’d be surprised how good with words you are, Rafe Wolfgang.”
Hearing her say my real name did unthinkable things to my cock.
She kissed me again, and I wrapped my arms tightly around her, bringing her flush with my body, which still didn’t feel close enough.
Her lips slid against mine, both of us soaking wet, and I grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling it slightly to tip her lips up farther. When I’d kissed her last night, it had been a goodbye kiss, a kiss meant to end our story, but this kiss felt like a beginning, like hope.
Thunder boomed, and we separated as I looked around, realizing we were in the middle of a storm. I grabbed her hand, her fingertips blue. Fuck.
Wind and rain battered us, and I brought Niamh closer, keeping her wrapped in my arms as I leaned down and yelled, “We need to find shelter and get you warmed up!”
“I think I remember passing some kind of rock shelter a little way back,” she yelled. “It was small but should keep us safe until the storm passes.”
As the blue permeated her nails, I was more worried about warmth than anything else.
We didn’t just need shelter, we’d need fire, and I wasn’t sure anything would be dry enough to accomplish that in this kind of weather.
But I’d fucking try. I’d rub sticks together all night if that was what it took.
She threaded her fingers with mine, pulling me forward through the slick grass.
Our boots slipped and slid in the mud, slowing us more than I would’ve liked as we walked up a hill, fighting against the wind, the rain like sharp little knives grazing past us.
The wind was so loud now, I couldn’t hear anything but the roar of it as it whistled in my ears.
After what felt like an eternity of trudging through the storm, Niamh pointed, and I squinted, trying to see through the downpour. “There!” she shouted, letting go of my hand and quickening her pace down the hill.
I followed and arched my neck, spotting several tall, thick rocks leaning against each other to create a sort of cone shape, almost like a tent. Bit by bit, we moved forward, wind fighting us every step, and finally we were in front of the structure.
Niamh hesitated before entering through the purple curtains.
“I can go first.”
She grabbed my hand. “We can go together.”
Fingers threaded, we entered.