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Brianna looked from Enya to Domhnall and back again, before slowly nodding her head. “All right. I’ll leave ye tae it.”

With Brianna out of the room, Domhnall watched as his younger sister gently placed her hands on the bleeding wound at the back of Katherine’s head. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths in and out. As always, the air went still as if sucked out of the room. A moment later, Enya laid Katherine’s head gently back onto the pillow and gazed down at her.

But Katherine didn’t move. Nor did she open her eyes.

“What’s the matter? Why didnae it work?” he demanded in panic.

Enya turned to look at him, placing a hand on his arm, she said, “It did work, Domhnall. The cut on her head is healed. Katherine is unconscious. We’re just going tae have tae give her time tae come out o’ it.”

Absently, she dropped her gaze, but suddenly, her eyes flew wide. “Ye are bleeding too,” she cried.

“I dinnae care. Look after Katherine. I’m fine.”

“I have, Domhnall,” Enya said determinedly. “There’s naething more I can dae fer her. Please, braither. Let me look after ye now.”

Reluctantly, Domhnall slipped his plaid from his shoulder and tore off his shirt, all while keeping his eyes firmly set on Katherine. The moment she woke up, he wanted to be there, and no matter what Enya had to do, he was determined to stay right where he was.

“It is a deep gash, Domhnall.”

Flicking a glance at his sister, he said, “Ye’ve healed such wounds ‘afore. Ye can dae it, Enya.”

Nodding, she pressed both hands on his wound and closed her eyes. Domhnall felt the familiar heat circulating through his body, for she had healed him many times, and after a few moments, she took a deep breath in and moved her hands away. He could see that the Gift took its toll, as Enya looked much more tired than when she entered the cottage. However, she said nothing about it.

Domhnall glanced down at his healed side. “Ye see. I told ye, ye could dae it.”

Enya nodded and then moved to the dresser where she lifted a bowl of water and a cloth. His skin was still stained with blood,even though there was no sign of the wound, and gently, Enya took the cloth and washed the area. When she had finished there, she took his hands, one by one, and washed the blood from them too.

Domhnall sat there and let her. He didn’t much care what he looked like or whose blood he had on his hands. His eyes remained on Katherine, his mind torturing him with his failings.

He hadn’t got there in time. A husband was supposed to protect his wife, and he hadn’t done that. It was his fault she now lay there unconscious. She had been injured because of him.

Enya moved from his hands to his face. No doubt, there was blood splatter there too, but he didn’t care about that either. He was too busy worrying about what might happen if Katherine took a turn for the worse. Enya had only ever healed wounds. And as she had said herself, there was nothing more she could do for Katherine.

What if the damage caused was too much? What if she never woke again?

Now sitting on the bed beside her, he looked down at Katherine’s pale form with a fierce gaze, his heart pounding with an unfamiliar sense of helplessness. All his strength and his speed were useless in this circumstance, and as he sat there, the same overwhelming guilt he felt about his parent’s deaths overtook him.

“Why was she even there?” he murmured. “When I left, she was in the castle. If she had just stayed here…”

Behind him, Enya had been clearing away the water and cloths, but now she lowered herself onto a chair on the other side of the bed. He didn’t care that he could feel her eyes boring into his soul. He just wanted Katherine to wake up, to be all right, to not leave him, as his parents had.

“Domhnall,” Enya said softly. “What is troubling ye so?”

His eyes widened at her question, for he thought it quite obvious. Jerking his head toward Katherine, he said so. “Are ye blind?”

“I ken Katherine is injured,” she said, speaking calmly in an attempt not to rile him any further. “I suppose, I am just confused. Last week, ye couldnae tolerate being around her. In fact, it was me and the others who had tae encourage ye tae even talk tae her. Something has changed, Domhnall. Ye’ve changed.”

He took a long breath in and let it out again slowly. Enya was pulling back the layers he used to protect himself. Ordinarily stoic and strong, it was the first time in a long time he was willing to even acknowledge he could be vulnerable, never mind show it. And yet, there he was, feeling powerless.

But what was he supposed to say? He didn’t know where to begin to explain what had changed. She was right, of course. Something had definitely changed, but until that attack, he had not taken the time to see it, to recognize it. Now, though, ashe sat there, gazing down at Katherine, not knowing if she was going to come out of this, all the confusion had fallen away, and he could see it all so clearly.

“She’s nae longer just an obligation or a pawn in the political game the king started,” he whispered. “Something has happened tae me. She has done something tae me. Something I cannae ignore any longer.”

“When ye say, she has done something tae ye, what dae ye mean?” Enya asked softly.

Domhnall shook his head. “They’re nae the right words. Maybe it’s more the fact that her presence, her being here has done something tae me.”

He sighed again, struggling to figure out how to express what he was feeling. Feelings were something he had bothered little with. Or had he just pushed them so deeply within himself since his parent’s death that they were now too hard to find?