Page 45 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
“I’m nae ahoundye can just toss food scraps to and hope I’ll heel and obey.”
“Ye think that’s what this is?” His temper flared. “Ye think I’d waste me time bringin' ye food if I dinnae care whether ye withered away behind this door?"
“Ye left me to fend for meself yesterday. It’s clear I’m nae welcome.”
“Ye aresafehere.”
“I’m isolated. There’s a difference,” she said with venom in her tone.
Rhys stepped closer. “I daenae ken what ye want from me.”
Amara let out a humorless laugh. “Nothin’. I wantnothin’from ye, Rhys. Nae anymore. I’ll figure it all out.”
They stood in silence. The air between them thick with everything unspoken. The tray steamed quietly behind them, the scent of warm bread curling around them like bait neither of them would take.
Finally, Amara turned, their eyes connecting for a moment before she looked at the tray of food and then back up at him.
“I’ll be ready to move chambers whenever ye will it to be so.”
He blinked.
She wasn’t yelling now. She wasn’t barbed or biting. She was just tired, and it burned him hotter than any coals he could have been raked across. He took a step toward her, but she turned away from him once more. The conversation was over.
Without a word, Rhys walked to the door, opened it, and left.
The sound of the latch catching behind him echoed louder than it should have. And he couldn’t stop the thought that chased him down the hall.I should have stayed…
The latched clicked behind him like the closing of a cell.
Amara didn’t move.
She remained by the window, arms wrapped tight across her chest. The silence was louder now, somehow emptier. She could still feel the warmth of his body in the room, the ghost of his voice thick with frustration.
Her gaze drifted back over her shoulder to the tray.
Steam still curled from the bowl of porridge. The berries glistened. Her stomach let out a loud, agonizing growl. She doubled over slightly from the pang.
“I’m nae hungry,” she whispered again, but even that sounded like a lie now.
She turned from the window slowly and made her way to the table.
Her fingers trembled as she tore off a piece of bannock. It was still warm. She bit into it and immediately, something in her chest cracked wide open.
The flavors were so sweet and spiced.
She sat down in the chair and devoured the rest of it in three bites. Then the parsnips. Then she poured the oat porridge into her mouth with barely a thought for the spoon. She didn’t even care if she looked crazy.
The tears came then as she ate, though she made no sound.
He brought this. Himself. After everythin’ he said to me, after every rejection… Had this truly been his way of makin’ an apology?
Her eyes landed on the berries. She reached for them slowly, but before she could pop one into her mouth, a sharp cry pierced the air.
Amara froze. Unsure if she had heard it correctly, or dreamt it.
Another cry. It was muffled and panicked, and it came from somewhere beyond her window.
She flew to the sill, shoved the curtain back, and peered down.
