Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Maighread pushed open the door to the healer's chamber, balancing a tray of bread and broth. She'd barely slept, checking on Tavish during the night to ensure fever hadn't set in.
He was awake, propped awkwardly against pillows, his face drawn tight with pain. The bandages wrapped around his ribs showed fresh blood seeping through.
Guilt twisted sharp in her chest at the sight.
This was her fault—dragging him into her schemes, putting him in Keir's crosshairs, watching him bleed for a lie that was becoming dangerously real.
She'd told herself repeatedly that this was strategy, nothing more.
But the sick fear that had gripped her when he'd returned wounded, the way her hands had trembled as she'd helped the healer clean his injuries—that wasn't strategy.
That was something else entirely, something she wasn't ready to examine in the cold light of morning.
"Those need changing," she said, setting the tray on the table beside the bed.
"Good morning to ye too." His voice came rough but stronger than yesterday. "How lovely ye look this fine day."
"I look exhausted and ye look like death warmed over. So we're even." She poured water into a cup, handed it to him. "Drink. Then eat something before I change those bandages."
He took the cup, their fingers brushing. "Bossy this early?"
"Always." She pulled a stool closer to the bed, sitting. "How's the pain?"
"Tolerable." Which meant excruciating, judging by how carefully he moved. "I've had worse."
"Comforting." She watched him drink, noting how his hand shook slightly. "We need to talk about what happened."
"Aye. We do." He took the cup, their fingers brushing briefly. "About what happens next. Now that ye're stuck with me fer the foreseeable future."
A small smile tugged at her lips despite everything. "Stuck with ye? That's one way tae phrase it."
"Accurate though." He drank slowly, watching her over the rim. "We discussed rules before, but those were made when this was simpler. Before I nearly died proving the betrothal was real enough tae threaten."
Her smile faded. "Ye shouldnae joke about that."
"I'm nae joking." He set the cup down carefully. "Keir tested us, Maighread. Wanted tae see if the whole thing was performance. Now he kens it's real enough that I'm willing tae bleed fer it." His voice roughened. "Which means he'll escalate. We both need tae be ready fer what comes next."
She moved closer to the bed, studying his face. "What are ye saying?"
"I'm saying we need new rules. Better ones." He shifted against the pillows, wincing. "We need tae be more convincing. More… committed in how we present this tae everyone watching."
"How real?"
"Real enough that everyone believes it. The Council, the clan, even Keir himself." Tavish's gaze held hers. "We'll need tae be seen together constantly. Act like a proper betrothed couple. Spend time alone where people might notice. Make this so convincing that no one questions it."
Heat crept into her cheeks. "That's… that could lead tae complications."
"Aye. It could." Something flickered in his eyes. "Which is why we need rules. Boundaries. Clear understanding of what this is and what it isn't."
Relief and disappointment tangled in her chest. She returned to the stool, sitting. "Then let me set them. This is me clan, me future at stake. I should decide what I'm comfortable with."
He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough. What dae ye propose?"
"First. Nay physical intimacy beyond what's necessary fer appearances." Her voice stayed firm despite the flush creeping down her throat. "We'll need tae touch in public, stand close, maybe hold hands. But naething beyond that. Naething private."
"Agreed." His voice went carefully neutral, though something flashed in his eyes. "What else?"
"Second. Complete honesty between us. Nay more secrets, nay more hiding information that could affect our safety." She held his gaze. "If I hear something, suspect something, notice something off, I tell ye immediately. And ye dae the same fer me."
"That seems reasonable."
"Third. Nay unilateral decisions involving the betrothal. We discuss everything before acting. Changes tae the timeline, interactions with Keir, announcements tae the Council. Everything." Her tone firmed. "This affects both our clans. We make choices taegether or nae at all."
"Aye." He shifted against the pillows. "Anything else?"
She paused, weighing her next words carefully. "When this is over, when Keir's no longer a threat, we end it cleanly. No drama, no scandal. We find a way tae dissolve the betrothal that protects both our reputations and leaves our clans on good terms." She met his eyes. "Agreed?"
That was exactly what she wanted. A temporary arrangement with clear boundaries and a planned exit.
Then why did her chest ache?
"Good." Tavish smiled slightly. "Though I'll wager ye'll regret those rules before this is done."
"Will I?" She raised an eyebrow. "And why's that?"
"Because eventually, lass, ye're going tae want me ae touch ye.
" His voice was teasing. "Ye're going ae lie awake at night wonderin’ how me hands would feel on yer skin.
How me mouth would taste." Despite his mocking, his eyes darkened.
"And when that happens, when ye're aching fer it, ye're going tae have tae beg me tae break our rules. "
Heat flooded her face, her neck, spreading lower. "That's… ye're very sure of yerself."
"I'm sure of what I see in yer eyes right now." His smile turned wicked despite the pain he must be feeling. "That pretty flush creeping down yer throat. The way yer breathing just changed. The fact that ye haven't told me tae go tae hell fer saying it."
"Go tae hell." But her voice came out breathless.
"There it is." He leaned back against the pillows, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"I want ye tae rest and heal so ye stop talking nonsense." She stood abruptly, smoothing her skirts. "I'll send someone tae change those bandages."
"Running away?"
"Leaving before I smother ye with a pillow." She moved toward the door. "Rest. That's an order."
"Bossy and beautiful. Me favorite combination."
She paused at the door, glancing back. "Tavish?"
"Aye?"
"Thank ye. "
His expression softened. "Ye're welcome."
She left before he could see how his words affected her. Before he could notice the way her hands trembled, her pulse raced, her body responded to promises he'd made in that rough, heated voice.