Page 93 of Bound By Deception

His sharp features were strained in the glow of dawn, and his eyes gleamed. She knew then that, despite his façade, this was hurting him just as much as it was her.

“How does it work” —he asked then, his tone strained— “passing through the stones?”

She swallowed. Of course, he’d be curious. “Only the Shee can use them … and only at certain times of the year,” she replied.

“And if I was to follow you through?”

Her pulse leaped. “You’d die.”

Silence swelled between them, heavy with so much unsaid. And then, to her surprise, he stepped close. Lifting a hand, her husband stroked her cheek. The tenderness of his touch made her tremble.

“Goodbye …Bree,” he said, saying her name slowly as if testing it out.

She liked how it sounded on his lips.

She managed a weak smile, even as the pain in her chest twisted cruelly. Reaching up, she traced her fingertips along the line of his jaw, committing every detail of his face to memory. “Farewell, Cailean.”

Stepping away from him, she looked to where Skaal sat a few yards away, watching her with unnerving intensity. Meanwhile, Flint cropped at the grass, oblivious to her turmoil. Heart in her throat, Bree shouldered the leather pack she’d brought from Duncrag.

Casting Cailean one last, lingering look, Bree turned and walked away, climbing the hill toward the stones.

Iron choke her, she wanted to glance back over her shoulder, to meet his eye once more, but she stopped herself. There wasn’t any point in making this even harder.

The Ring of Caith loomed above her, the stones’ pitted, scarred surfaces illuminated by the rising sun. And as she climbed, the air grew heavy and storm-charged, as it had on The Day of the Hag.

Silence settled around her, and Bree’s skin prickled.

Here we go again. She hadn’t forgotten how unpleasant passing through the stones was, and dread curled in her belly.

She hadn’t lied to him before—she didn’t want to go back. Cailean thought he was saving her, but he wasn’t. From the moment she’d ridden away from The Ring of Caith earlier, she’d told herself there’d be no returning to Sheehallion. The ‘wrongness’ of this act struck deep in the marrow of her bones, yet she kept walking.

She had no choice.

Clenching her jaw tight, she squared her shoulders and strode to the top of the hill, passing into the midst of the ancient stone circle.

40: TOO LATE

CROSSING FROM ONE side of the stone circle to the other was harder this time.

Bree’s Marav body wasn’t as resilient as her old one—only the fact that the stones recognized that she’d once been Shee allowed her to pass through at all.

She was lost in the mist, the clear morning sky of just moments earlier gone.

The air became unbearably heavy, pressing into her on all sides, and it felt as if an anvil sat on her chest.

Gasping, she stumbled forward, her hands rising to cover her ears as they started buzzing. Ancestors, it was as if hornets were stabbing her eardrums.

She staggered and nearly went down, righting herself just in time.

Her head was throbbing now, each step a monumental effort. Her body screamed, stabbing pain convulsing each muscle. The veil between the two realms was not easily breached, and it didn’t welcome her.

The pain overwhelmed Bree then, and she panicked, grappling with an invisible opponent in front of her. Screaming, she launched herself forward into the breach.

The move saved her, for it closed the distance to the two largest stones on the opposite side of the circle. She lurched through them, and then she was falling, tumbling down a slope.

Bree came to a stop at the bottom, winded, on her belly. For a few moments, she lay there, gasping for breath, before her fingers splayed across the ground.

Soft, sweet-smelling grass. The air that feathered across her heated skin was warm and scented with rose.

---