Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

C illian had known for a while now that his feelings for Thora were not limited to irritation and anger whenever she provoked him. There was so much more to her—so much kindness, so much intelligence, so much beauty… Now he was thinking more positively of the idea of marriage, even though he knew Thora didn’t want him.

But then, when Duncan had put that cursed bough above their heads, she had kissed him and Cillian’s heart had come to a sudden and terrifying halt. Ever since, all he could think about was that kiss; how soft Thora’s lips were against his, how eager he had been to kiss her properly, how nothing she had done to anger him mattered when he could have this.

Asking for a kiss as a reward if he won their bet had been a spur of the moment thing, the words tumbling past his lips before he could think twice about them, but he didn’t regret it. Thora had been stubborn enough to agree and now Cillian was following her closely as their party scattered through the woods, looking for their prey, to make sure that she wouldn’t try to get out of their deal by cheating.

That, and he wanted to keep an eye on her. Hunts could be dangerous, even for seasoned hunters and from what Thora had told him, she had never been on one before. There were boars in that forest, large and vicious when threatened, and Cillian didn’t want to risk Thora coming face to face with one of them all on her own.

As the others spread out farther and farther, Cillian remained close to Thora, though he made sure he would stay undetected, keeping her in his field of vision while also hiding from hers. Besides, he did want to give her a fair chance to win their bet, and so he refrained from becoming a distraction or getting in her way. She was almost silent as she moved, her feet light even as she jumped over thick roots that sprung up through the soil, landing in frosty patches with a grace one could only attain through practice. Watching her was mesmerizing. Cillian had never seen anyone move so effortlessly over difficult terrain, sure-footed and confident. It seemed to him that she moved intuitively, weaving a path that only she could see, as though she was so used to being in the woods that the wilderness was no different from a straight and smooth path.

And then Thora came to a sudden halt, crouching down to examine something by the trunk of a large oak. Cillian hid behind another tree, peeking around its trunk to watch as Thora looked at a small rabbit that had been caught in one of the traps the men had laid. He was about to reveal himself to her, to walk over to her and point out this didn’t count as her bringing back game, but before he could, Thora pulled the trap open to release the creature—only it didn’t move.

Cillian watched as Thora cradled the creature in her hands, pulling it out of the confines of the trap. For a moment, she laid a hand over it, her eyes falling shut, her brows pinched with concern as she simply sat there. Cillian could only assume she was either listening or feeling for something, and after a few moments, her concern was replaced by relief when the rabbit’s foot twitched just slightly, the movement almost imperceptible.

He couldn’t hear what Thora said, but he could see her lips move as she stroked the rabbit’s back to comfort it. It was strange, Cillian thought. The MacDonalds had always been hunters and Cillian had participated in such hunts ever since he was old enough to hold a blade, but he had never considered the game they caught as anything but food. He had animals he loved, of course; he had his beloved horse that he had raised ever since its birth and in the past, when he was a boy, he had had two dogs he had adored. Thora, though, seemed to approach every creature, no matter how small, with the same love and care, and Cillian’s chest filled with a strange warmth as he observed the scene before him.

She truly is very kind.

Taking a step forward, Cillian was about to reveal himself to Thora and try to comfort her about the rabbit that was bound to be close to death, but he stopped dead in his tracks again when he saw her place her palm firmly over the animal. Then there was that same, strange sensation again; the very one he had felt when Thora had tended to his wounds and those Samuel had sustained when he had fallen off the roof all those days prior. The air seemed heavy with something he couldn’t identify, crackling and shifting as if disturbed by an unseen force, the scent of ozone exploding around him and overtaking everything else. Just like the last two times, when Cillian took a better look at Thora, she seemed to be far away, staring unseeing into the distance.

The moment was over as suddenly as it had begun, Thora pulling herself back into her body. Beneath her hand, the rabbit stretched and pawed at her arm, drawing a laugh out of her before she gently placed it on the ground and watched it hop away.

It was as though it had never been harmed. There was nothing in the way it moved to suggest it had been caught in a trap or that it had ever been on the verge of death.

What did she dae?

Cillian couldn’t make sense of what he was witnessing. He couldn’t understand how that rabbit could be suffering one moment and hopping away without a care in the world the next, just because Thora had cradled it in her hands. He couldn’t understand how the very air itself seemed to change all of a sudden at those times.

All he understood was that she had a pure heart and Cillian loved that about her.

Before he could change his mind, Cillian marched up to her. The moment Thora spotted him, the smile was wiped from her lips, replaced by an expression of fear, and she sprung up straight, her stance widening as if she was expecting a fight.

“How long have ye been here?” she demanded as she took a faltering step back.

Cillian didn’t answer her. Instead, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close, capturing her lips in a kiss.

At first, Thora froze against him and he could only think she didn’t want this, but before he could pull back, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, her lips moving softly against his. Cillian’s heart thundered in his chest, rattling his ribs, climbing all the way up to his throat. No woman had ever had such an effect on him before. No woman had ever made him feel as though he was on the verge of a heart attack or like he would rather have one instead of cutting the kiss short.

When she breathed softly against him, the sound soft and sweet, Cillian found himself melting into the kiss, into her arms, losing himself into the sensation of her lips and her body. He wished that moment could last forever, stretching into eternity, but then Thora pulled back and looked at him, gazing into his eyes.

The smile on her face was warm and inviting. Before long, she leaned in for another kiss, this one just as enticing as the first, but then it was Cillian’s turn to pull back.

There was something—or rather someone—in the woods. Cillian could hear it, the crunch of frost and leaves under boots, the careful but not quiet enough steps. The air around them seemed charged, but not in the same way it had when Thora had saved the rabbit. There was a sense of danger, a whisper in the back of his mind that something was wrong, that someone was watching.

He took a step back from Thora, his hand reaching for his sword as he scanned the woods around them for any signs of a threat. Though he couldn’t see anything, not yet at least, he was certain the enemy would soon be revealed.

“What is it?” Thora asked in a careful whisper. Cillian glanced at her, gesturing at her to come closer to him, and she moved quietly, standing right behind him.

“Somethin’ is wrong,” he said. “Stay close tae me. Dinnae stray unless I tell ye tae run.”

He didn’t want to frighten her, but if this was an ambush, then he wanted to make sure Thora could get to safety. They weren’t too far from the castle. One of his men would help her get back to safety if he was overwhelmed by the enemy forces, but until then, he wanted to keep her close.

For a moment, there was silence, everything around them seemingly standing still as the earth held its breath. Then, he heard shouts and loud footsteps coming from all directions, some of which he recognized as belonging to his men.

We are under attack.

Grabbing Thora’s hand, Cillian made his way back towards the camp, hoping they would make it on time to grab a horse so Thora could flee. That was all that mattered to him in that moment: saving her, ensuring that she would be safe and would not get tangled up in a sword fight. He didn’t care if she could handle herself. He didn’t care she was trained for it like he had been. She had never seen a real battle and the real thing was very different from a mere training session.

They had barely reached the camp, though, when Cillian stopped dead in his tracks, Thora coming to a stop behind him. Hooded men had flooded the clearing, attacking his men from all sides. The clang of steel against steel was deafening, the grunts and shouts of his men and the enemies filling the woods with noise. Their arrival seemed to go unnoticed at first, at least until one of the hooded men spotted him and pointed a finger towards his direction.

“There!” the man said in a gruff voice and Cillian tightened his grip on his sword. Of course, they wanted him. They knew precisely who their target was, so they could not be simple brigands.

“Run!” he told Thora. She hesitated for a moment, clearly unwilling to leave his side, but then broke into a sprint, heading towards the horses which were wide open, unguarded by the enemy.

If she reaches them, she can escape. I only have tae hold them back until she does.

When Thora began to run away from him, though, the hooded figures changed course and chased her instead, much to Cillian’s surprise. He had thought he was their target, as the Laird of Clan MacDonald, but it was Thora they were after, pursuing her as Cillian’s men tried to stop them.

Why her? What dae they want?

In that moment, it didn’t matter. He would figure out their motives later, once Thora was safe. For now, all Cillian could do was throw himself in the middle of the fight, desperate to reach her. His blade flashing in the sunlight, Cillian put himself between Thora and the first man in his way, stopping him before he could get too far. Around him, his men were doing the same, all of them fighting tooth and nail to stop the attackers from reaching Thora.

He couldn’t see Duncan or Archibald anywhere, though he knew they must have been there, fighting alongside the others. He didn’t have the time to search for them. He could only focus on the man in front of him, whose sword was fast approaching his neck before Cillian swiftly dodged it, jumping back out of reach. Before long, another blow came, the man aiming for his gut this time, but Cillian parried it with ease before swinging his sword in an arc to deliver a fatal cut to the man’s torso.

His body had not yet fallen to the ground when Cillian turned around to pursue his next target. His gaze fell on Thora first, though, who had been captured by one of the men. She was fighting back, resisting the man as he tried to pull her away from the camp, but it was clear he had the advantage of brute strength over her, large and imposing as he was.

“Unhand her!” Cillian demanded, but his voice was lost in the chaos around him, drowned out by everything else. He rushed after them, hoping Thora could at least delay the man long enough for him to reach them on time, but even as he pushed through the bodies on the ground, the soldiers still fighting around him, and the blades that met time and time again near his head, it was as though he was walking through molasses, his trek slow and laborious. For every step he took, the man took two, dragging Thora farther and farther into the shadows of the woods.

In a moment of despair, Cillian pushed through a group of half a dozen men, all of them involved in the same fight, shoving those who stood in his way aside. An errand blow caught him on the arm, slicing the skin there, but he paid it no mind as he came through to the other side, just short of reaching Thora. When he called her name, she turned her gaze to him, her eyes wide and filled with a panic that broke his heart.

She didn’t deserve any of this. She was too good, too kind-hearted for anyone to want to hurt her.

When she turned back to her attacker, the man stopped, his lips parting to speak. From where he stood, Cillian couldn’t hear their exchange, but he could see the moment when true terror struck her. Her skin paled, turning waxen, and she trembled from head to toe violently, her efforts to disentangle herself from him only doubling.

Just as Cillian reached her, she finally managed to escape from the man’s grasp. His hand shot out, ready to grab her and pull her to safety, but just as his fingers brushed against hers, a piercing pain exploded in his stomach, making his hand slip.

Cillian looked down in shock to see blood spreading over his clothes, drenching the fabric. A small blade jutted out of him, the carved, polished handle depicting a mythical beast. When he looked back up, the man was staring at him—Cillian could tell even with the hood that obscured his features.

The only thing he could see was his lips twisting into a smile before he fled, running away from the camp. Distantly, he thought he heard Thora call his name again and again in despair, but it was all drowned out by the ringing in his ears as the pain spread, radiating out to the rest of his body. The last thing he knew was his back hitting the ground just as the darkness swallowed him, the pain fading away into the shadows.