Chapter 6

6

T he cold water swallowed her momentarily before she regained enough awareness to sit up in the shallow water. Further up by the horses, several of the clansmen spluttered to hold their amusement at her plight as if falling was not embarrassing enough.

"Damnation," she muttered, gathering her skirts in an attempt to stand.

"Careful now," Magnus' voice rumbled near her ear as he extended a hand. Reluctantly, she grasped it, feeling the strength in his fingers pulling her effortlessly to her feet. For a moment, they stood close, her blue eyes locked onto his dark ones, a silent acknowledgement passing between them before she quickly averted her gaze.

"Thank ye," she mumbled, cheeks flaming not just from the cold.

"Let's get ye back in the carriage before ye catch yer death," he said gruffly, turning away to hide any concern that might have shown.

"Mind yerself, brother!" Hayden's voice cut through the air as they returned to the waiting men and horses. "Ye took quite the beating back there. Ye should ride in the carriage, rest a bit."

"Rest is for the weak," Magnus scoffed, though the strain of battle had etched lines of fatigue on his face.

"Ye ken as well as I that yer stubbornness serves no one," Hayden persisted, sharing a knowing glance with Erin.

Erin glared at the back of Magnus' head, silently willing him to capitulate. To her surprise, after a drawn-out pause filled with the tension of unsaid words, Magnus relented with a curt nod.

"Fine," he grunted, grimacing as he climbed into the carriage. The space inside suddenly felt smaller, charged with an unspoken challenge.

As the carriage lurched forward, Erin huddled into her corner, watching Magnus from beneath lowered lashes. Despite his earlier words, his jaw clenched against the pain, betraying the effort it cost him to admit even this tacit vulnerability.

"Stubborn oaf," she whispered under her breath, though a part of her begrudgingly admired his resilience, but she couldn't deny his presence in the carriage did bring her some comfort against the risk of another ambush.

"Ye daenae need to keep such distance, lass," Magnus finally broke the silence, his voice low and strangely gentle against the rattle of the journey. "We're bound by circumstance if nothing else."

"Bound by circumstance," she echoed, her mind racing. But what would happen when those bonds were tested when she made her escape?

Erin caught a glimpse of something in Magnus' eyes—a hint of something deeper, more complex. And in that fleeting moment, she wondered if the beastly laird before her might indeed possess a beauty yet unseen. The thought startled her, leaving her breathless as the carriage trundled on towards McCormack Castle. Erin huddled in the corner, her garments clinging coldly to her skin. She shivered, wrapping her arms about herself in an attempt to retain what little warmth she could muster.

A sudden jolt sent Erin lurching sideways, and for a moment, her eyes met Magnus's. Her breath caught at the intensity of his gaze as it travelled over her, taking in her soaked condition.

"Ye'll catch yer death in these wet clothes," he said gruffly, breaking eye contact as if the sight of her discomfort displeased him.

Erin managed a tight-lipped smile. "I've endured worse than a Scottish chill."

"Stubborn lass," he muttered, almost to himself. But then, as her shivering grew more pronounced, a begrudging concern creased his brow. "Come here."

"Excuse me?" Erin's voice was a mix of defiance and incredulity.

"Ye heard me. Come sit between me legs. We need to share body heat, or ye'll freeze before we reach the castle." His tone was firm, yet it wasn't harsh. If anything, it was tinged with something akin to... consideration?

Erin hesitated, battling the instinct to remain distant and the undeniable logic in his words. Ultimately, the bone-deep cold won, sapping the fight from her. With a reluctant nod, she moved across the carriage, taking the offered spot between his outstretched legs.

The wall of heat emanating from Magnus's body enveloped her immediately. It was disconcerting, this forced intimacy, and she tensed, unsure where to place her hands.

"Relax," he commanded gently, and Erin felt his strong arms encircle her waist, the warmth of his breath on her neck as he pulled her back against his chest. "I willnae touch ye."

"Never thought I'd be thankful for a man's overbearing nature," she murmured, allowing herself a small, involuntary lean into his solid form.

"Nor I that I'd be warming a willful lass who'd sooner swim in rivers than accept help," Magnus retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

As the carriage swayed, the warmth from Magnus's body seeped into her, easing the chills that had racked her frame. For a fleeting moment, Erin allowed herself the dangerous luxury of feeling safe, protected even.

Erin shifted her weight, trying to find a notch of comfort against the hard wooden seat without dislodging the heavy arm encircling her waist. The wool of Magnus's plaid was rough against her cheek, but the heat emanating from his towering frame was a balm to the chill that had taken residence in her bones. She chased the heat, leaning back into the man's thick frame. Her legs braced her body as her hips pushed back against him. Each time she shifted, Magnus released a huff of air. It was not a sound made in pain, but it was a groan none-the-less, Enjoying the warm exhale of breath against her neck, Erin repeated the movement that caused him this reaction.

.

"Be still, lass," came the low grumble from above her, vibrating through her skull where it rested just below his collarbone. His tone was softer, more of a plea than to chastise her, a comforting sound that made Erin melt into him more. To her startlement, his hands found purchase on her hips, large fingers curling with an unspoken command for her to cease her fidgeting. Erin momentarily tensed, her breath catching in her throat as she absorbed the unexpected contact. This man, this imposing beast of a Highlander who had sworn he would never lay hands upon her, seemed to be doing a poor job of keeping his promise. And she wanted more of it.

Magnus's grip was firm yet not unkind, and despite the prideful voice in her head scolding her for the weakness, Erin couldn't deny the odd sense of security that his touch afforded. He wasn't touching her to keep her balance; his touch was too soft for that. His hands remained on her hips now because neither of them wanted him to move them. For one wayward moment, she wondered what it would be like if circumstances were different—if they were bound by desire rather than duty. What if she could love a Highlander?

The carriage jolted over a stone, snapping her out of her musings and pushing her hips back into his pelvis. His moan of protest was certainly warming her inside.

"Good heavens, lass. Can ye nae be still." He spoke through clenched teeth, reminding her that any softness found in Magnus Black's arms was likely more accidental than intentional. Yet she could not shake the thought that, for all his stoicism, there might just be a sliver of warmth hidden beneath the layers of scars and cold authority.

"Ye should ken better than to move about. We're almost home," Magnus murmured, his tone wrapping around the words like a cloak, with a hint of kindness. Erin felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Home," she echoed, the word foreign on her tongue. McCormack castle was not home, not yet, and perhaps never truly would be. But as the formidable stronghold came into view, perched atop a craggy hill with its battlements cutting a stark line against the dusk sky, Erin couldn't help the flutter of something akin to excitement in her chest.

Coming home to O'Kane Castle after six years held in an English fortress, the thrill of exploring a true highland castle had thrilled her. She had spent days upon end exploring every nook and cranny of her home, and for the first time since first running into Magnus, she had the same warm feelings about her new home. It didn't look as dark and terrible as she had expected. Just like O'Kane Castle, it felt warm and happy. Maybe she wouldn't be terribly unhappy exploring McCormack Castle while she planned her escape.

"Ye'll be safe there," Magnus continued; his voice a low thrum that seemed to resonate with the carriage's walls. Ye have me word."

"Yer word," she said softly, pondering the weight of those three syllables. He gave his word readily enough, but could the word of a man who had been sculpted by betrayal and violence be trusted? A man who held her fate in his scarred hands?

As the carriage rolled under the portcullis, the clatter of hooves echoing off the stone, Erin cast a sidelong glance at the laird beside her. His gaze was fixed ahead, jaw set, a silent sentinel guiding her into the unknown. His profile was all harsh lines and shadows in the deepening gloom—a beauty carved from darkness and necessity.

"Thank ye," she breathed, unsure if the gratitude was for his protection or simply for the ending of their journey.

Magnus's only response was a tightening of his hold, a silent assertion of his presence. And then, just as quickly, he released her, pushing away the thoughts that dared to cloud his focus. Erin watched him, a mix of relief and confusion swirling within her as he retreated behind his impenetrable fa?ade once more.

"Get ready," he said, his voice echoing the steel of his armor. "We've arrived."

The carriage ground to a halt, the door swung open, and Erin peered out into the torchlit courtyard of McCormack castle, heart hammering against her ribs. She was about to step into her future, whatever it may hold, and as she glanced back at Magnus, she knew that no matter how fiercely she might wish to deny it, he was an integral part of that future now. Her hand reached for his, longing to keep the contact with his body that she had enjoyed on their journey. But it wasn't just his warmth that her treacherous mind longed for. His arms had made her feel wanted, and it was a feeling she wasn't keen to let go of.