Page 36 of The Love Leap (Timeless Love Chronicles #1)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Hamish ponders everything I’ve said for a moment before responding to me in a gentle yet firm voice.

“If he means that much to ye, go to battle for him, lassie.”

Moira pipes up from the backseat, adding her two cents:

“Love is like haggis—it may look messy, but it’s worth digging in!”

I laugh from deep in my belly for the first time in a day, but all of their words make sense. They’re right. In all my confusion and anger, I lost sight of what truly matters.

With newfound resolve, I lean forward. “Hamish, take me to Loch Ness. I have a hunch that’s where Cal is, and I need to tell him I’m not giving up on us. ”

Hamish’s eyes twinkle. “That’s the spirit! To Loch Ness, we go then!”

Mac and Moira clap and cheer from the backseat as Hamish puts the pedal to the metal.

As we speed through Inverness like a Scottish cabbie’s version of The Fast and Furious , my mind races with thoughts of how to convince Cal that together, we can overcome any obstacle, no matter how absurd or time-bending it might be.

The cityscape is a smear of colors in my peripheral vision, soon replaced by rolling hills and sparkling rivers. With each passing mile, I can feel my resolve hardening.

Fear?

Doubt?

No room for those party poopers here. I'm ready to kick some Scottish butt for us and the chance to set things right—because Aven Valley deserves its fairytale ending just as much as we do.

When Loch Ness comes into view, its murky waters glinting under the barely-waning moonlight like liquid silver, I can feel my pulse pounding in my throat. Somewhere along that vast shoreline, I have a feeling Cal’s waiting.

“Could you hold my suitcase for me, Hamish?” I ask quietly, thinking to myself, “Possibly for about four hundred years?”

“Aye lass, dinnae sweat it. ”

“Thank you,” I manage to choke out through the lump in my throat. “All of you... for everything.”

Hamish tips his cap with a smile that radiates warmth and understanding. “Go get him,” he says simply. “Love’s worth the risk.”

“Lace up those boots tight, lassie!” Mac bellows with enough force to shake the cliffs, while Moira chimes in with a grin:

“Ye’ve got this, girl! Go get your hunky Highlander!”

Their words ricochet in my head as I burst from the taxi, optimism mixing with determination.

My boots kick up the sand as I stumble towards the edge of the loch, goosebumps prickling my skin in response to the cool night air.

There’s Cal, silhouetted against the moonlit water, looking like he’s bearing the weight of the world.

“Cal!” My voice slices through the stillness. He turns sharply, kilt billowing, eyes widening with surprise and something else—relief.

“Mills? What are ye doin’ here?”

I close the distance between us, my heart racing as if trying to match the rhythm of his. “I couldn't just leave things hanging,” I confess, breathless. “Not without giving it a shot. Were you trying to go back?”

He shakes his head. “Never without ye,” he says softly, meaning a thousand things. “I thought ye’d be on yer flight by now. I just needed... to feel close to ye. But look,” he gestures towards the sky, “the full moon’s fading. I’m not sure if it’ll work now... or if we’re even meant to return.”

I reach for his hands, warmth radiating from his skin like a homecoming I’ve longed for.

“We can't just quit, Cal. Not on us.”

He sighs, his eyes drifting back to the shimmering loch.

“I know. I was scared. Terrified of losing everything—my family, my dreams. I thought pushin’ ye away would protect ye from all the danger.

Just being a stubborn eejit , thinking I could handle it alone.

” He pauses, his thumb tracing gentle patterns across my palm.

“Dumbest thing I’ve done since I stuck my tongue to a teeter-totter back in primary school."

A laugh bubbles out of me, light and free. “And I was a wee daftie to walk away. I hate that I did.” I fall silent for a breath.

“But there’s no way I’m not going back in time to fix things—with or without you.”

A glimmer of amusement and hope lights up his eyes. “Ye’re a stubborn one, aren’t ye?”

I close the gap between us. “And you love every bit of it.”

Laughter rumbles through his chest as he pulls me into a hug, the world around us falling away until there’s only the two of us. Our lips crash together, fueled by adrenaline and longing, sealing an unspoken vow in the moonlit air.

As we pull apart, the loch begins to shimmer as if responding to our presence. The air crackles with energy, raising the small hairs on my arms.

“Do you feel that?” I whisper, my breath turning ragged.

Cal nods, his grip on my hand tightening. “Blimey, it’s happening! Everythin’s going tits up again!” I can tell he’s trying to make me laugh so I won’t feel afraid.

The world around us blurs and pink, green and purple hues melt together like a watercolor painting left in the rain. The ground beneath our feet gives way, and suddenly, we’re falling, tumbling through a Northern Lights kaleidoscope.

I cling to Cal, not wanting to lose him again, as the vortex pulls us deeper, faster, hurtling us through the fabric of time.

Though I’ve done it before, the sensation feels new. It’s both thrilling and terrifying, like the first drop on a rollercoaster, only a thousand times more intense.

And then, as suddenly as it began, it's over.

We land with a thud, the air knocked from our lungs. I blink, trying to orient myself in the noise and chaos. My eyes widen as I take in our surroundings, the reality crashing down on me—we're in the middle of a battlefield.

The back of MacDowells’ Inn and Tavern looms before us, its windows shattered, its walls scorched by fire. The sound of clashing swords and angry shouts fills the air as the townsfolk and Gregor’s clan battle around us.

"We made it," I blurt, barely able to catch my breath. Heart pounding, I scan the field. Cal’s jaw tightens as he points ahead of us.

“Look, there’s Alistair and Fergus!”

With their swords gleaming in the dim light, the brothers stand shoulder to shoulder on the battlefield. The clash of metal rings out as they fight valiantly against the enemy forces. Without warning, an agonizing wail tears from Alistair’s throat.

“Argh! The burn of it!”

A blade from an enemy sword has found its home in his leg, causing him to falter. Despite the fierce determination I see in our comrades’ faces, it’s crystal clear they’re outmatched. They need reinforcements, and fast, if there’s any chance of tipping the scales of this savage battle in our favor.

“Everything looks just like before... only worse!” I shout.

Cal’s eyes are steeled with a resolve that sends a wave of warmth cascading through my entire body, igniting every nerve ending.

“Aye, seems we’ve got a fight on our hands. ”

His gaze sweeps across the battlefield, finally settling on a fallen soldier clad in the rival tartan. He bolts towards him, his muscular legs pounding against the ground. With one swift motion, he yanks the sword from the lifeless man’s grip. Its blade gleams ominously under the moonlight.

He whirls around to face me, eyes ablaze with trust and determination.

“Without ye by my side, Mills, I’m just a man wrestling with ghosts. But I need ye whole—not shattered,” he says, his typically assertive voice wavering just a tad.

As he offers me the reclaimed weapon, our fingers brush against each other momentarily, sending electric sparks up my arm. Clutching onto the hilt with newfound resolve, I ready myself for whatever comes next.