Chapter 14 #3
I couldn’t answer. My mind was still reeling, still trying to hold on to the fragments of what I’d seen. There were three artifacts. Three branches of the family. Women scattered, guarding sacred pieces of something that had once been whole.
Maiden. Mother. Crone.
The Stone of Truth wasn’t just an artifact. It was one piece of something larger. Something that had been broken apart, just like my family.
And I was supposed to be the bridge that connected them all.
The unicorn watched me with those ancient, knowing eyes. It bobbed its head once—slowly, deliberately—as if confirming what I’d seen. As if saying yes, this is real, this is true, this is what you were born for.
Then it turned and trotted back toward the standing stones, its white form growing fainter with each step. Between one blink and the next, it was gone, leaving only the fading daylight and its revelation behind it.
“Agnes.” Graham’s hands were on my arms, steadying me. His voice was shaky, none of his usual calm. “What the hell just happened?”
I looked up at him. This was a man who had loved me for years despite everything I’d done to push him away.
And it seemed like all roads led to Graham.
Nothing would change that now.
The loch knew. The unicorn had shown us. I could go home and hide and keep running from him, but would it matter anymore? Would it matter if I ran to the far reaches of the earth?
My love for him would never die.
And maybe that was the point. Maybe running had never been the answer. Maybe it had only delayed the inevitable while stealing years we could have had together.
“Agnes.” Graham’s voice was rough, desperate. “You’re scaring me. What did you see?”
I looked up at him—really looked. Worry etched his face, the rain dripping from his hair, and his brilliant eyes bored into mine. He gripped my arms like he was afraid I might dissolve into the mist if he let go.
“I saw the truth,” I whispered.
“What truth?”
“That I’ve been a coward.” The words ripped out of me, raw and aching.
“That I’ve spent almost a decade pushing you away because I was terrified of what loving you might cost. And it didn’t matter.
It never mattered. Because I loved you anyway.
I’ve always loved you, Graham. Even when I was saying no.
Even when I was walking away. Even when I was breaking both our hearts. ”
His breath caught. His hands tightened on my arms.
“Agnes—”
“I have a curse. On my bloodline, Graham. The unicorn appearing to us? It means we’re meant to be together.
And for women in my family, that’s a death sentence for the men we love.
The loch takes them. It always takes them.
” My voice cracked as hysteria built. “Gran, well, before she died, she made me promise to stay away from you. I was trying to save you. I thought if I didn’t let myself love you, if I kept you at arm’s length, you’d be safe, but it doesn’t work that way.
I can’t stop loving you. I’ve tried. Goddess, I’ve tried so hard, and I can’t—”
He kissed me.
There was no warning. Not even a second of hesitation before his mouth was on mine, hot and desperate, swallowing the rest of my words. His hands slid from my arms to my face, cradling my jaw, tilting my head back so he could kiss me deeper.
I couldn’t run. I couldn’t keep warning him about the danger. I needed him more than I could quit him. Instead, I grabbed fistfuls of his jumper and pulled him closer.
The kiss was nothing like I’d imagined. It was better. It was everything. Years of longing and denial and desperate wanting, all of it pouring out in the press of lips and the slide of tongues and the soft, broken sounds we made against each other’s mouths.
Graham’s hands dropped to my hips. He lifted me like I weighed nothing, and suddenly my back was against one of the standing stones, the ancient rock cold and solid through his coat. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him pressed against me.
“I don’t care about the curse,” he growled against my lips. “I don’t care about any of it.”
“Graham—”
“I’ve loved you since I was sixteen years old.” He pulled back to look at me, his eyes blazing. “I’ve loved you through every rejection, every excuse, every time you told me to move on. You think some ancient family curse is going to scare me off now?”
“You have no idea, Graham. Every man … you can’t … this is a huge deal. It should scare you. You should be terrified. You really should.”
“Well, it doesn’t.” He kissed me again, hard and fierce. “I’d rather have one more day with you than a lifetime without you. I’d rather drown in that bloody loch than spend another ten years watching you pretend you don’t feel this.”
“That’s not—” I gasped as his mouth found my neck. “That’s not romantic, that’s suicidal.”
“It’s the truth.” His lips traced up to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “You’re not the only one who gets to be stubborn, Agnes Wright. I can be just as pigheaded as you.”
I half laughed, half sobbed. My hands found his hair, fingers threading through the damp strands, pulling him closer.
“We need to talk about this properly,” I managed. “There’s so much I haven’t told you. The Bookkeeper role, the betrayal, the—”
“Later.” He kissed me again, slow and deep. “Talk later. Right now I just need—” He took my lips again. “I need to make up for years of not doing this.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic.
The world narrowed to just us. Just his hands on my body and his mouth on mine and the solid press of him between my thighs.
The standing stone held my back, ancient and all-knowing, holding me up when I would have collapsed.
The mist swirled around us and cooled my heated skin.
Nothing else existed, in this moment, as far as I was concerned. Nothing else mattered.
I’d spent so long being afraid. So long denying myself this. And now that I had it—now that I had him—I couldn’t remember why I’d ever thought I could live without it.
The sky chose that moment to open up.
And this was not the gentle Scottish drizzle we’d been wandering through. This was actual rain, coming down in sheets, cold and relentless.
Graham swore and pulled back, shielding me with his body as best he could. I was already soaked through, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was laughing, really laughing, for the first time in days.
“Come on.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the stone. “My place.”
We ran down the hill together, slipping on wet grass, and laughing like idiots. The rain plastered my hair to my face and soaked through every layer of clothing, but Graham’s hand was warm and solid in mine, and I couldn’t stop smiling.
This was real. This was happening. After years of fighting it, I was finally letting myself fall.
Whatever came next, we’d face it together.
Graham pulled me through the streets of Loren Brae, past the darkened windows of Bonnie Books, past the warm glow of The Tipsy Thistle where I dearly hoped someone else was covering his shift tonight.
We stumbled up the stairs to his flat above the pub, both of us breathless and dripping, and when he fumbled with his keys, I pressed myself against his back and kissed the rain from his neck.
“You’re not helping,” he groaned.
“I’m not trying to help.” I laughed against his back as he swore under his breath.
He got the door open and pulled me inside.
Tomorrow I’d tell him everything. The curse, the Beithir, the three challenges I had to face. Tomorrow we would make a plan and hopefully figure out how to break this thing that had haunted my family for generations.
But tonight?
Tonight was ours.