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“And that person was…”

“Your great-great-something-or-other,” he says. “A stable hand, they say. They say he married her. That she gave him a son. Her blood runs throughyourveins.”

I expect her to deny it, or at the very least refute the idea of it, so what she does next takes me by the utmost surprise.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly, her voiceactuallyfull of regret. “That’s terrible.”

“It is,” I manage, almost like a question because I’m still stunned by her reaction.

“God, Lachlan…your entire family? And then your dad…Wow. I can’t even imagine.”

I can feel something unwinding in my chest with every word she says, almost like her apology carries the weight ofallthe MacKays, as ridiculous as that notion is. Maybe it just feels good to tellsomeoneand have them confirm how fucked up it all is. How terrible a life we’ve been forced to live. Or maybe it’s just the mournful way she says it, like she actually cares.

“I…” I feel like a fish with the way my mouth opens and closes while I try to remember how to use words. “Thank you,” I manage finally. “I appreciate that.”

She looks up at me with that same fire in her eyes that I saw in my kitchen, nodding once as if confirming something to herself before she takes a step closer to me. I startle as she grabs my hand, holding it in her smaller ones and clutching it tight as she regards me seriously.

“All this does is prove to me that I’m supposed to help you. If itreally was the MacKays that cursed your family, then maybe it’s the MacKays that have to help you undo it.”

I almost tell her everything, but something holds me back. Maybe I don’t trust her enough yet, or maybe I’m enjoying the look of determination on her face, and I’m not quite ready to snuff it out just yet.

She must realize that she’s still holding my hand, a fact that I haven’t been able to distract myself from since the moment she reached for it, given how warm her hands are, because suddenly she goes pink in the cheeks and lets me go. She clears her throat and takes a slight step back, averting her eyes.

“Anyway.” She shuffles her weight from one foot to the other. “Kelpies, huh?”

I swallow, ignoring the tingling in my hand. “If you believe the legends.”

“And I suppose we do, right?”

I cock a brow. “We?”

“Well, yeah,” she says in a way that feels more like a question than an assertion. “I mean, we’re in this together now, aren’t we?”

It seems ridiculous, impossible even, that I would be standing here with a member of the family that thrust mine into ruin and considering accepting her attempts at bullying me into allowingherto helpme—and yet that’s exactly what I’m doing, as asinine as it might prove to be. Because for whatever reason, and regardless of how little, I realize at this moment that Idotrust Keyanna. I can’t say why, can’t even give a solid reasoning as to why I should even begin to, but I do. I can feel it, how she won’t go back on her word. How much sheactuallywants to help.

Maybe that’s why I open my stupid mouth.

“Aye,” I answer softly. “I reckon we are.”

Her answering smile punches through me like an actual blow; it’swide and bright and full of a joy she’sneverdirected atme. Her wee bunny teeth draw my eye, and I have an insane, fleeting curiosity as to what they might feel like against my tongue.

Get it together, you numpty.

I shake the thought away, taking a deep breath and letting it out before glancing between the trees, where the sun still seems to be high in the sky. I wager I have a few more good hours before it starts to sink.

“We should get out of here,” I tell her.

“Out of the creepy graveyard?” Her voice is laced with sarcasm. “But I was so enjoying my time here.”

I roll my eyes. “Still a pain in my arse, even when you’re my ally.”

“Only for you, Nessie,” she teases.

Nothing about that should make my stomach flutter, and I practically snort at my traitorous body for daring to do so. I shake my head, stomping past her as I toss over my shoulder, “Let’s grab a drink at the pub. We can talk more there.”

I hear her scurrying behind me, her boots crunching the leaves beneath her feet as she catches up. “Hey, Lachlan?”

“Hm?”