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“Don’t you dare die.”

Then turning her back on him, she walked away.

Lola climbed into the back of the sleigh, and her mother got in beside her and patted her arm. “You did well. There are other men out there. Best not to get too attached. The secret is that you must be the one to walk away. Or in this case…fly away.”

The crack of a whip sounded in the silent, snow muffled night, and they rose into the air, bells tinkling.

And then they were flying.

Below her, Lachlan grew smaller and smaller until finally he disappeared from sight.

Chapter Fourteen

Lachlan forced himself to stare straight ahead. Not to watch her go, because then he might beg her to stay.

She would if he asked, because she was that sort of person. Loyal. And sweet. And good. Too good for him. He clamped his lips closed to stop himself from calling after her.

She wasn’t going to die. And no matter what she’d said—she didn’t need him. He was the kiss of fucking death. She was better off without him. But his chest ached. Christ, for nearly three hundred years, he’d avoided all emotion, now he was drowning.

Somewhere way off in the distance, he heard the chiming of bells from the village. The world was reawakening.

Christmas was coming.

Time to say happy fucking Christmas to his long lost brother.

He took up position in front of Gabe but out of the sword’s range, raised the pistols.

A blue eye flickered. A tic jumped in his cheek. Then the sword was swinging in its downward arc. But Lachlan was too far away, and the stroke missed him by a foot.

He shot into the snow at Gabe’s feet, making his brother jump back. Gabe stopped. Frowned. Looked around him. Reached up and touched his face. “What the hell?”

Lachlan stood, ignoring the growls and howls and whimpers that surrounded them, pistols aimed at the center of Gabe’s chest. “Hello, Gabriel. Good to see you after all these years.”

The arm with the sword dropped to his side. His gaze searched the area. “How? What?” He shook his head. “Where’s the wee lassie?”

“Gone.”

His eyes narrowed. “And where the fuck are your clothes?”

“Gone.”

“What’s going on here?”

“You can ask me that?” he growled. “You were going to kill me. With my own da’s sword. You know how fucked-up that is?”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. I wasn’t going to kill you, just give you a little cut. For old time’s sake.”

The wolves were creeping closer.

“Call off your dogs,” Lachlan snapped. “This is between you and me.”

“Really? You think you can take me?”

“Hell, I know I can. I always could.” And right in that moment, he wanted to try. He wanted to punch something. Break something. He’d sent her away. She’d asked him to go with her. Just about begged him. She could have been his. If he wasn’t so much of a coward.

Gabe shouted a word into the night and the wolves fell back, giving them space.

Lachlan tossed the guns down onto the snow and closed the space between them. He didn’t need guns. Gabe stood his ground, one eyebrow raised. A supercilious expression on his face.