Page 24 of Time of the Druid (Stones of Scotland #7)

Chapter 24

S taying away from Matthew should have been easy. All through their practice session on the beach, Norah kept a safe distance. She ignored the way he watched her, ignored the way her body tingled when he brushed past her.

That’s never going to happen again, she told herself every time she thought about their night together. She could treasure the moments they had spent in each other’s company, but she couldn’t let that happen again. Never.

But then Jack disappeared after dinner, mumbling something vague about a place to be, his scarlet cheeks and poorly concealed grin making it clear enough where he was headed. Norah watched him go with a strange twist in her chest—part amusement, part dread.

And then she was alone. Alone with the silence, with the flicker of lamplight on the guesthouse walls, with the low crackle of the fire and the restless itch under her skin. Her palms were sweating, and her heartbeat picked up with every passing moment, as though her body already knew what she was trying not to admit. What now? What would she do with the night ahead? She tried to busy herself, pacing, tidying, fiddling with her braid, but all she could think about was the soft press of lips, the warmth of a hand on her skin, the dangerous ache of wanting more. Too much more.

No harm in just having a look , she thought, walking toward the roundhouse. Matthew probably wasn’t even in there. And even if he was, nothing had to happen.

As it turned out, she didn’t even make it as far as the roundhouse. She rounded the corner at speed—and collided with something solid. A sharp gasp left her lips as she staggered back, only to find Matthew standing inches away, his hand already reaching out to steady her. For one suspended second, neither of them moved. The air between them crackled, thick with tension, their eyes locked like magnets too strong to break apart.

“Hello,” Norah said breathlessly. “I was actually just looking for you. Jack’s gone for the evening.”

Oh, no. That was not how she’d meant it to come out. Matthew stared at her, and she could tell he was every bit as confused.

Just turn around, Norah. Leave .

Instead, she grabbed Matthew’s hand.

“One more night,” she breathed.

And so they ended up tangled in Norah’s blankets once more, limbs entwined, skin slick with sweat and the warmth of each other’s bodies still humming between them. It was too much, too good, too real. How could she ever have believed one night would be enough?

But what kind of happy ending could they possibly have? Not when so much still stood between them, heavy and sharp as broken glass.

The air between them, once thick with heat and magic, now settled into a strange quiet. As Norah’s skin cooled and goosebumps prickled her arms, the silence deepened, stretching tight across the space where passion had just bloomed. Her chest ached with unspoken truths, and she suddenly felt every beat of her heart like a warning bell in her ears.

She turned her head slightly, barely breathing. Tell him , something whispered in the fragile dark. Tell him before it’s too late .

But that was madness. How could she tell Matthew that she’d come here to kill him—and then slept with him instead? It made her sound like a monster. It was the truth, though, in all its tarnished glory, and surely she owed him that much.

“Your father sent me here to poison you,” she said, the words slipping out before she had a chance to think them through.

God, had she really said that? She lay there in shocked, horrified silence. What have you done? The silence stretched out, its weight growing painful.

“I guessed as much,” Matthew said at last.

“ What ?”

Norah rolled over on her side, the blankets rustling around her bare skin, and stared at Matthew as though he'd spoken in an alien tongue. Her mouth parted, but no sound came out. Had he really just said that? He looked so calm, so maddeningly unbothered, as if he'd merely predicted the weather instead of unmasking the darkest part of her soul.

“Well, I already knew what you did for my father,” Matthew said, still staring up at the ceiling. “And it was too much of a coincidence that you just happened to find me. So I figured that much out.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

He finally turned his head to look at her. There was a resigned sadness in his eyes.

“What could I say? It seemed better just to politely refuse the tea.”

He’d known all along. Norah could hardly believe it. All this time, all these lies, all this agonising over what to do, and he’d known . He’d been watching out for her poisons this entire time.

“I swear I didn’t know it was you,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. “He just gave me this golden compass thing and set the time machine to some mystery date, then told me everything would lead me to the man who’d held him captive — the man I had to kill.”

“Golden compass. Right,” Matthew said, his voice a little distant.

“And I never wanted to be his assassin. Never,” she said, the words coming faster and faster like she just couldn’t stop them. “But I started working for him, and it was all so exciting, and they said the herbalist training was just a cover, and then… then my life was no longer my own.”

Matthew sat up, tugging the blanket over his lap.

“What do you mean?” he asked softly. “How is your life no longer your own?”

Norah had never told anyone about the stone before, not when it sounded ridiculous even to her. But she told Matthew anyway—about the stone Professor Edmondson produced before her mission, about what he’d told her, about that poor dead dog.

“Apparently he cast the spell using blood from my original health check, when I first applied to work at Edmondson Laboratories.”

Matthew leaned forward slowly, elbows on his knees, his gaze locked on the dying firelight flickering across the wall. "There has to be a way to break the spell," he said, his voice low and steady, as if he were making a vow more than offering an idea. His hands flexed slightly, fingers twitching as though he were already imagining how the magic might feel in his grasp, how he might twist it apart and set it free.

“To break it? But how? He could kill me in a second,” Norah said, trying to catch up. This conversation was not going anything like she might have imagined. She still couldn’t quite grasp that Matthew had known the truth all along.

“No spell is unbreakable,” Matthew said thoughtfully. “And, to be honest with you, he might be lying. I don’t think he has enough power to control a life like that.”

Norah shook her head firmly. She knew what she’d seen, and Edmondson’s story was no lie. The idea of the spell being breakable, though… that was intriguing.

“What do you think might break the spell?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” Matthew said, frowning. “There’s always a way, but I would have to see this stone to be sure.”

Hope swelled up deep inside Norah, so fresh and strange that it almost terrified her.

“And would you?” she asked. “If I was able to get hold of that stone, would you try to break it for me?”

Matthew’s answering smile was so sweet that it hurt.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help you get free of him.”