Page 25 of A Highland Healer Captured
That left him alone with the lass, and her expression was already sharpening into a glare. “Do ye always dismiss women like that?”
Zander ignored her barb. “Walk with me.”
She blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “What if I say nay?”
“Then I’ll walk, and ye’ll follow,” he said simply, starting down the corridor. He didn’t look back, but her boots clicked reluctantly after his.
They moved through a side passage where torchlight flickered low, shadows stretching long across the walls. Zander waited until the quiet settled around them before he spoke.
“How does he fare?”
Skylar faltered mid-step, turning her head sharply toward him. “Grayson?”
“Aye. Who else?” Zander asked, his jaw tightening on the words. “What do ye see in him? What do ye think?”
She stared at him, clearly startled.
Shite.
He had let his armor crack. Showing her the desperate father-side of him that he kept hidden.
Her lips parted, then pressed tight. Finally, she said, “I havenae found much yet. His pulse runs quick, his chest labors, but there’s nay sign of a lingering fever or infection. It’s… elusive.”
Her voice dipped, frustration edging every word. “I hate elusive.”
Zander studied her profile. The way her brow knit together as she thought of the right words to say, the fire in her eyes anytime they flashed up to meet his, the tension in the corners of her mouth. She wasn’t indifferent. The weight of not knowing gnawed at her as well. And oddly, that eased something in him.
“Ye’ll find it,” he said firmly.
Her gaze snapped back up to him, startled again, then softened. But then she turned away, lips pressed in a stubborn line.
He asked the next question before she could retreat too far. “How does a lass come to be spoken of across Scotland for her healing? What made ye this way?”
Her shoulders stiffened. “That’s a story I’ve nay wish to share with the likes of ye.”
The walls were back, high and riddled with thorns. Zander almost pressed further, but he caught himself. She was still pacing in a cage. Pressing her now would only tighten the bars.
Fine then. Stubborn as a damned mule.
Silence stretched between them as they walked. The flicker of torches marked their steps until they reached the corridor that led to her chamber.
He stopped outside her door, turning to face her. She looked at him warily, her arms crossing as if to shield herself from whatever he might demand next.
“Ye’ll keep at it,” he said quietly. “Ye’ll nae stop until ye ken what weakens him. That’s all I ask.”
Her chin lifted high. “I never stop until I ken. Nae forye. Nae for anyone but Grayson.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. He wanted to argue, wanted to tell her that whatever reason she gave, it still meant she was his son’s only chance. Instead, he inclined his head.
“Good,” he said. “Rest now. Tomorrow, Cora will show ye more of what we have outside these walls.”
He reached for the door, opened it, and gestured her inside.
She hesitated, glaring at him one last time before sweeping past. The scent of her hair brushed him as she passed, faint rosemary and smoke.
Zander shut the door firmly behind her, locking the heat of her presence out of the hall. But it lingered all the same, tightening in his chest as he turned away.
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