Page 44 of Healing the Highland Sinner
“Cormac,” he said, his voice thick and sounding strange in his own ears.
His twin brother stood arguing with a man whose face he couldn’t make out. The edges were blurry, his face obscure. He didn’t know who Cormac was arguing with, but they were both yelling ferociously. They sounded very far away, their voices as blurry and indistinct as the second man’s face. He strained his ears but couldn’t pick out their words. The air inside the smallchamber where he lay was charged with bad energy and the harsh whisper of violence.
“Cormac,” he called.
His brother turned to him, a slow smile spreading across his face. Cormac knelt at his bedside and took his hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Rest now, braither,” Cormac said, his voice echoing strangely. “Everythin’ will be all right. Ye just get some rest and heal yerself.”
He gripped his brother’s hand tighter, drawing strength from him. Cormac was the only person he had in the world, and they had leaned on each other throughout their lives. As he looked into Cormac’s stormy blue eyes, he understood where he was. Memory flooded into him, and he knew they had been taken captive after a vicious battle. He knew he lay dying. And if not for his brother, his sacrifice, Ellair might have died.
“Heal yerself, braither,” Cormac said.
Something felt different. Off. Ellair looked around, trying to understand the strange feeling that stole over him. He recognized the room and the scenario all too well. Indeed, it was a situation that had been burned into his memory. But something felt… different. The faraway sound of Cormac’s voice that echoed in his ears almost didn’t seem real.
“What is happenin’, braither?” Ellair groaned.
“Rest now,” he replied.
Cormac’s eyes widened suddenly, and his face grew slack. His grip on Ellair’s fist tightened, his eyes turning glassy and taking on the same faraway, distant quality his voice had.
“Cormac—”
Blood spilled from his brother’s mouth and Ellair watched in horror as the point of a sword burst from Cormac’s chest, a river of blood flowing from the wound. Ellair cried out, tears racing down his face as his brother’s grip on his hand loosened and faded. He watched in horror as Cormac’s limp, lifeless body slipped to the ground…
Ellair sat bolt upright, a shrill scream bursting from his mouth. He turned, looking all around the room in a near panic as he struggled to recall where he was. His heart leaped into his throat as the door to his room burst open. A thin robe pulled around her, Rosalind rushed in. She held a dagger in hand, her head turning left and right as she scanned the chamber, seemingly ready for battle.
“Ellair,” she called. “What’s the matter?”
His breathing harsh and ragged, Ellair looked around the chamber as the fragmented memories of his dream fluttered away. He felt his grip on the world around him solidifying. Hewas in Rosalind’s compound. He was here at the behest of Laird Gunn and his own laird. He wasn’t in that room he’d survived so long ago. He closed his eyes then let out a long, trembling breath.
“I—I’m sorry,” he said. “’Twas a dream. Just a dream.”
“Bleedin’ hell, the way ye were screamin’, I thought someone was in here guttin’ ye.”
God, he felt foolish. “I’m sorry, Rosalind. I didnae mean tae frighten ye.”
She set her dagger down on the table and turned sympathetic eyes to him. She then walked over and sat on the edge of the bed and stared into Ellair’s eyes for a long, quiet moment. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze, much the same way Cormac had in his dream. He shuddered, half afraid he was going to see a sword burst through her chest as well. Ellair clenched his jaw and tried to push away the terrible memories.
“What were ye dreamin’ about that had ye screamin’ so loud?” she asked.
He blew out a small breath. “I dreamt of me braither bein’ killed… because of me.”
“Oh, Ellair, I’m sorry,” she said. “Is he?—”
“Nay. Nay,” he replied softly. “He’s fine. Alive and well. ‘Twas just a dream.”
“Why dae ye think ye dream of his death like that then?”
He shrugged. “Probably because I feel guilty.”
“Guilty about what?”
Ellair looked into her eyes and saw a warmth he had never seen there before. It made his heart swell, and he became very aware of the way his hand felt in hers. Her hand felt warm, her skin soft and smooth. A heat bloomed between them and Ellair’s heart pounded in his ears. For the first time in his life, he wanted to open up to somebody. The burden he had carried for so long suddenly felt heavy. It felt suffocating.
But he wasn’t there to open up to her. He was there to do a job and although he’d come to believe she was not what Laird Gunn thought her to be, he still had work to do. And yet, there was an openness in her face he’d not seen before. A vulnerability. She wanted him to open up to her, perhaps because she wanted to open up to him as well. And there was nothing Ellair wanted more than to share with her. To grow closer to her.
Despite his mind screaming at him to pull back, to focus on his job and nothing more, he felt something inside of him shift. His had been such a lonely existence and for the first time in his life, he found himself wanting to be close to somebody. He knew because of his situation and because of his mission, he could notshare everything. But perhaps, he could lighten his burden, if only a little.
