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Did someone see?

I rush out of the water toward the sound, only to be met with a rabbit bounding out of the bush, causing a rush of air to expel from my lungs, relieved that it wasn’t someone spying. That’s the last thing we need right now.

It hits me then that I ran toward the noise without any regard for my own safety, that I was too concerned with Lachlan to even entertain the idea of my own well-being. The realization gives me pause, because while I’m no expert on the matter…that feels a lot like what love is.

And given that Lachlan’s future is so uncertain despite my ferventproclamations…that thought is way more terrifying than the monster I just let nuzzle me.

The walk back to the farmhouse seems longer than usual; I’m still ruminating on this new possibility with regards to my feelings for Lachlan, making it impossible to do more than meander back toward the main path that leads home.

Home.

I’m not sure when it started feeling like that to me, but I realize that the farmhouse—my grandparents, the land, Lachlan, even the damned cows—allof it makes me feel more at home than I have since the day my dad passed. It makes me wonder about what my future might look like. I think that my grandparents would be thrilled if I stayed here in Scotland, especially now that Rhona and I are finding our footing, but I can’t help wondering if Lachlan would feel the same.

I shudder as I recall what happened back on the shore of the loch; maybe it’s strange that I didn’t feel fear when I noticed that he’d started to shift to some sort of in-between state, but in that moment all I could sense was a burning desire to have more of him. To share parts of him no one else ever had. AndGodhad it been good. I’ll never tell him this, but I might actually miss the claws if we do find a way to break his curse.

When, I correct myself.Whenwe break his curse.

Because there’s no other option, as far as I’m concerned. Hearing him talk about not turning back…it really shook me. I think that’s why, in the moment, I needed to touch him, to remind myself that he’s stillhere. I needed the tangible proof that we still have time, because I refuse to entertain the possibility that I might lose him afterjust finding him. He has too much life to live.Wehave too much life to live. Or at least, I hope that’s the case.

Fuck, maybe I really am gone for the guy. I thinkthatthought scares me more than any monster-y bits he might show me ever could. It’s far too soon, far too nonsensical, and yet the thought of walking away from him now, for any reason, makes my breath come shorter and my chest grow tight. I rub the spot thoughtfully, coaxing the muscles to unwind as I tell myself I have nothing to worry about. Willing it to be true.

When I make it back to the farmhouse, I find it fairly quiet, leaving my shoes at the door as I venture inside. I can hear quiet sounds coming from the den, and find Rhona sitting quietly by the fire, knitting while she rocks in one of the chairs.

“Evening,” she calls. “You just get in?”

I nod from the doorway. “Mhm. I was…” I feel heat flush at my neck as I recall what I wasactuallydoing. “I was just out for a walk.”

“Good place for it,” Rhona chuckles. She gestures to the chair beside her. “Come sit with me a spell before I have to go and start dinner.”

I hesitate in the entry for a moment; I don’t know if I’ll be good company, given that my head is still scrambled with the possibility thatLachlan might not turn back tomorrow—but I’ve had so few moments alone with Rhona since we started trying to make this work, and it’s not as if I cantellher why my brain is a mess of anxiety.

I shuffle farther into the room and plop down into one of the overstuffed armchairs, sinking into the soft cushion and trying to push some of my muddled thoughts away. I notice that the rest of the house appears to be relatively silent, the only sounds to be heard are the faint clicking of Rhona’s needles and the soft crackling of the fire.

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

“Finlay is down at the pub playing cards again with Hamish and a few others,” she tells me.

I scoff lightly. “Hopefully he won’t stoop to getting them plastered just to win.”

“Aye,” Rhona laughs. “Your grandpa takes his cards very seriously.”

“Is Brodie with him?”

“No, he’s…” Her brow knits. “Actually, I don’t know where that boy has run off to. Been gone most of the day, really.” She puffs out a breath. “No doubt working on his little side project.”

“It will be cool to see it when it’s done,” I say. “I’d love to know more about our family.”

Rhona hmphs. “Bunch of lovestruck fools, most of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Och. Our name means ‘happy,’ did you know?”

“Seems kind of ironic, given the last few months,” I grumble.

Rhona laughs dryly. “Aye, I suppose so. There are dozens of stories down the line about MacKay men sacrificing something or other for love. Finlay’s father used to say it was the MacKay curse. Used to tell this auld story about some auld MacKaywaydown the line who saved a fairy princess or some other from an evil laird.” She rolls her eyes. “Finlay used to tell the same story to your da when he was a wee lad.”

Something about that makes me pause; it sounds so similar to everything we’ve been told about the story of Tavish and the kelpie but not quite right. “He saved her from some evil dude?”