Page 21 of A Scot's Devotion
Chapter Eight
“CRAY AND I were oncefriends too,” Maeve said softly as they walked through the woodland of his memory. “And there was once a time...”
This was the first time he had seen her since she told him she loved Cray as well. He had thought mayhap her declaration meant she wanted to be with his cousin, yet here she was, wanting to be with him too. Both of them it seemed which would never work. Not in this day and age. Not in any era as far as he was concerned. Where Cray enjoyed various lasses at once, Aidan preferred just one.
This one.
She was supposed to have become his wife. Raise his children. Stand by his side in all things. Now? None of that seemed possible.
Yet he wasn’t turning her away. He wasn’t giving up.
“There was once a time, what?” he prompted when she trailed off.
Her eyes lingered on his for a moment before she responded.
“There was once a time I thought I loved him, Aidan,” she said softly. “And now I know I was right...I think some part of me always knew.”
He shook his head, certain she was wrong. Cray must have wooed her as he was want to do with lasses. She backed away, then turned and fled, leaving him with no chance to convince her she was wrong. That mayhap this was simply fear of finally settling down.
So he chased after her to remind her of what they had.
Daylight turned to nighttime. Darkness turned to fog and stones. Still, he pursued, drawn to her whispered words on the wind.
“Come back to me,”she called out.“Come back to me so we can be together for all time.”
“Aidan, stop!” a woman cried, her voice desperate and far away at first until it grew closer and closer.
He knew that voice. How though? He couldn’t quite recall.
“Aidan, it’s me, Chloe,”she screamed into his mind.“You have to stop right now!”
That got through, and he stopped short.
A blink later, the dark woodland vanished, and it was once again daytime. Light rain fell, and he teetered dangerously close to the sheer drop off of a cliff. Had he taken one more step, he would have fallen to his death.
“Oh, thank God,” Chloe gasped from behind, breathing heavily as though she’d been running too. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
Frightened for him, obviously not concerned that they hadn’t known each other long, she flung her arms around him and held on tight. Almost as if she tried to hold him back from the brink of death.
Or, in this case, from Maeve.
“But it wasn’t her, was it?” he whispered, baffled. He looked into the woodland, instinctually resting his arms around Chloe. “She was never here.”
“No, I don’t think so,” she murmured, trembling. She rested her cheek against his chest. “But someone was...something.”
“’Tis all right, lass.” He cupped the back of her head in comfort as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do. “Whatever it was is gone now.”
“I hope so.” She released a shaky sigh. “Because I swear I still feel it.”
“’Tis your magic.” He was convinced he was right. “’Tis sensing the residual energy of what just happened. The residue of whatever just haunted us.”
Chloe lifted her head and met his eyes. “How can you be so sure? Can you...feel my magic?” She swallowed hard. “Because I can’t...I don’t think.”
“Aye, I feel it.” Like sunshine on his face. “And you will too, lass.”
Her eyes seemed to sparkle with that very sunlight, drawing him closer to something long lost to him. Something far too dangerous. Yet he didn’t pull away.
Instead, he kept his eyes with hers, and his senses came alive.
