Avery did not interrupt. She only listened, her eyes filled with all the assurance Sorcha needed.
“And yet,” Sorcha continued, her voice trembling, “I love him.”
The confession slipped out in a shaky breath.
Avery blinked, inhaling slowly as she watched her. Still, she didn’t speak.
“I love William so deeply…” Sorcha’s eyes welled with tears. “I love him so deeply that if he ever asked… if he ever offered, I would accept without a second’s hesitation.”
She had not known how heavy, breathless, and vulnerable that confession would leave her. But she was glad she got it out, even if it was just before Avery.
Without saying a word, Avery stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Though she said nothing, her touch conveyed more than a thousand words ever could.
She simply held her, patting her back gently as the confession settled between them.
29
Sorcha’s mind was made up.
If William wished to keep avoiding her, if he chose silence over conversation, distance over truth, then she would not stay where she was clearly unwanted.
Especially not after what had happened between them. Especially not after he had touched her like she mattered, only to discard her the next morning as though she were an inconvenience neatly resolved.
She would leave him but she would also tell him about the intruder. She needed to protect not just her heart but her life as well.
That decision was what she was thinking about when a knock sounded at her chamber door.
She turned around. Foolishly, a big part of her hoped that it was him behind the door.
But then Caelan stepped inside.
Though she was disappointed, she still felt relief. Her cousin’s presence had always been comforting.
Despite everything that had happened, despite the hurt, the quiet humiliation of being dismissed without a word, she was grateful to have family nearby.
Caelan’s presence encouraged her in a way nothing else could. As he always did, he looked every bit the overprotective cousin who had spent half of his life scolding her and the other half worrying himself sick over her.
But tonight, he did not look happy. Concern was written clearly all over his face, etched deep into his brow. Still, he managed a smile, one that was meant to comfort her more than himself.
“The horse is ready,” he said quietly. “We’ll set off at dawn, when most folks are asleep. It will draw less attention.”
Sorcha released a slow breath she had not realized she had been holding and nodded. “Aye,” she murmured. “That sounds wise.”
Caelan gave a short nod and turned to leave, as though lingering might make their plan harder for both of them. But then she stopped him.
“Caelan,” she called softly.
He paused and turned back, his eyebrows rising in question.
Sorcha set the small bundle in her hands on the table and slowly crossed the space between them. When she finally stood before him, she wrapped her arms around him.
Caelan stiffened at first, clearly startled. They were cousins who bickered more than they embraced. He had always acted more like an irritable older brother than anything else. But after a moment, his arms wound around her.
“Thank ye,” she said quietly against his shoulder. “For everything. I ken I daenae say it enough.”
He huffed a breath, then lifted his hand to pat her hair awkwardly. “Ye’re a stubborn lass,” he said, his voice gentler than his words. “But ye’remestubborn lass. Get ready. We should leave as soon as we can. This place… it doesnae feel safe any longer.”
Sorcha nodded, pulling back. “I will.”
