Page 83 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander
“It was out of yer hands,” Freya assured her.
A knock sounded at the door, then. A hesitant rap that interrupted the moment.
Abigail wiped at her eyes quickly as Helena stepped inside.
“Forgive me for interruptin’, but… I thought ye might want to come back. His breathing’s steadier now.” She smiled softly despite the weariness on her face.
Abigail didn’t wait—she rushed past them and out into the corridor, her feet light despite the weight in her heart. She had almost lost him. She wouldn’t waste another moment. Not now.
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes still dark with worry. “We should go check on Kian,” she whispered.
Freya nodded once and followed her down the corridor. The low hum of conversation guided them back to the healer’s chambers.
Inside, Michael, Cody, and Amara sat around a wooden table, their hands wrapped around warm cups of tea. Helena moved between them, graceful and calm, refilling their cups with gentle care. The tension in the air had eased, but it hadn’t disappeared altogether.
Abigail glanced at the group before gently pulling Freya toward Kian’s bed. She held her sister’s hand as they approached, the softness of her palm comforting in Abigail’s trembling grip.
Kian lay still, wrapped in several blankets, the pallor of his skin slowly beginning to fade.
Freya knelt beside him and placed a hand on his forehead. “He seems to be warming up,” she noted quietly. “Nae so cold.”
Abigail let out a long, shaky sigh, her shoulders sagging with relief.
“Thank God,” she murmured, brushing a lock of hair from Kian’s brow.
Freya glanced up at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll sit with ye. I’m here for ye.”
Abigail’s heart ached at the words, filled with gratitude and sorrow all at once.
“Thank ye,” she breathed, her voice tight with emotion.
She turned back to the others who lingered in the room.
“Helena,” she said gently, “perhaps we can offer our guests rooms and food?”
“Of course,” Helena replied, setting down the teapot. “I’ll take them now.” She gestured for the others to follow.
Michael, Cody, and Amara stood up, casting one last look at Freya before leaving the room.
As the door clicked shut behind them, silence settled thick between the sisters.
Abigail dropped to her knees beside Freya, overcome by the intimacy of the moment.
Freya turned and opened her arms, and Abigail collapsed into them without hesitation. They held each other tightly, their hearts beating in the rhythm of sisterly love.
“I’m glad ye found someone to care about,” Freya murmured into her hair, her voice rough with emotion. “Ye deserve happiness, lass. More than anyone I ken.”
Abigail let out a strangled cry and clung to her tightly. She didn’t realize how much she had been holding back, but the comfort of a blood relation suddenly opened the floodgates.
“I missed ye so much,” she sobbed. “I was so scared I’d never see ye again.”
“There were nights I thought I’d gone mad with the pain of nae knowin’ if ye were all right.” Freya stroked her back, slow and soothing. “We assumed the worst. We sent search parties, prayers, shed tears… Michael blamed himself for lettin’ ye out of his sight. But now—now ye’re here, and safe, and that’s all that matters.”
Abigail nodded against her shoulder, her tears soaking into the fabric.
Kian stirred faintly in his sleep, a low groan escaping his lips.
Abigail pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “He saved me, Freya. Over and over. Even when he didnae have to.”
