Page 127

He sighed. “Because it’s nearly dawn, lass. I’ve tae go.”

The radiant smile she’d given him faded into a frown, and he felt her walls sliding back into place. Broderick cursed inwardly and leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss meant to coax those walls back down. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. “Listen to me, Davina. I know ye have questions—about where I go during the day. About the silver glow ye’ve seen in my eyes.”

Her expression shifted. “I saw it on our wedding night,” she confessed. “The same night I saw you vanish in a blur. How is that even possible?”

Broderick stilled. That night, he had scented her rose oil and blood but thought it was just her lingering essence on his clothes, on his skin. She had been hiding in the shadows, watching him.

“Aye,” he said softly. “I thought as much.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion flickering to life. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“There’s no time tae explain it all now,” he pressed. “But I’ll tell ye everything tonight. I swear it, Davina. Just give me this day.”

She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I hope so, Broderick,” she said at last. “I gave you everything you demanded. Willingly, eventually, but I expect the same in return if this is to work.”

His chest tightened, guilt threatening to choke him. “Ye’ll have it, lass. All of it. I never expected tae fall so hard and so completely for ye, but once I explain, I can only hope ye’ll understand.”

After a hard and possessive kiss, he rose from the bed and dressed quickly, his movements efficient but reluctant. When he leaned down to kiss her goodbye, the temptation of her soft,warm lips nearly overpowered him. He could stay here, in her arms, and let the sun be damned. At least he would die happy, though it probably wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for her.

“I’ll return shortly after sunset,” he promised, his voice thick. The apprehension on her face twisted his heart, and he vowed to take it away for good—provided she could accept what he was.

It was a risk he was willing to take to bring back that smile.

With one last longing kiss, Broderick left her bedchamber and stepped into the cool night of the courtyard.

Once Broderick was far enough from the castle walls, away from watchful eyes, he unleashed the immortal speed that would carry him to his prey. The wind howled past him, the earth blurring beneath his feet, as the predator within surged to the fore, eager for the hunt.

∞∞∞

The frosty air of the pre-dawn hour bit at Davina’s cheeks as she stood a few yards back from the caravans. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, fighting back the tears as Rosselyn and Myrna sobbed and clung to each other. The Romani caravan was prepared to depart. The wagons, painted in bright hues that seemed muted in the moonlight, were lined up in an orderly row, horses hitched to the front. Their breath puffed out in white clouds as they shifted restlessly in their harnesses, eager to move.

The wagons creaked faintly as the Romani made their final preparations, and Davina felt the weight of the moment pressing on her chest. The village of Stewart Glen remained in slumber,its houses dark, save for the faint glow of lanterns flickering on the main road near the town’s entrance. The Romani’s departure felt like a secret, a quiet ritual meant only for the moon and stars to witness.

Myrna gave her daughter one last kiss to her cheek, her weathered hands lingering on Rosselyn’s cheeks before she turned and headed up the road back toward the castle. Her figure soon melted into the shadows, leaving the two younger women alone in the hush of farewell.

Rosselyn approached Davina, her face blotched from weeping. “Mam says it’s bad luck to watch someone depart,” she murmured, her voice hoarse from emotion.

Davina nodded, wiping away the tears that trailed down her cheeks. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Words felt woefully inadequate.

“I’ll miss you,” Davina finally whispered, her voice trembling like the fragile hush of dawn.

Rosselyn’s eyes glistened with fresh tears as she pulled Davina into a tight embrace. “And I’ll miss you,” she said softly. “More than you know. It feels like we’ve only just begun to know each other, truly.”

Davina swallowed against the knot rising in her throat. “We’ve been friends for so long, but now that I know we’re sisters…” Her voice cracked, and she let out a shaky breath. “It’s another part of you I wanted to discover. I was looking forward to it.”

Rosselyn offered a sorrowful smile, brushing Davina’s hair back from her eyes with a tenderness that deepened the ache in Davina’s chest. “I was too. I love Nicabar, Davina. Where he goes, I will now go.”

Davina managed a small smile, though it felt as fragile as spunglass. “I know. I understand. Goodbyes are just…”

Rosselyn hugged her again, tighter this time, as though she could imprint the memory of their bond into her very bones. “This isn’t goodbye. Not forever. We’ll return when the spring comes. And when we do, we’ll have the whole summer to be sisters. I promise.”

Davina nodded, clutching that promise like a lifeline.

As Rosselyn stepped away to help Nicabar secure a bundle atop the caravan, Amice approached. The older woman’s face bore the weariness of deep sorrow, her usual lively spark dimmed, as though Veronique’s disappearance had drained her very spirit.

“Lady Davina,” Amice greeted, dipping her head with quiet respect.

“Amice,” Davina replied, her voice low and threaded with sympathy.