Amara caught her eye,and Piper saw the older woman’s gaze flick to the children, then back. A silent question:
Dothey need to ken how bad it is?
Piper gavea tiny shake of her head. The children had been through enough tonight. They didn’t need to see how deep the cut actually was, how much blood she’d lost.
“Perhaps ye’re right,”Amara said smoothly, understanding immediately. “Just a scratch that needs cleanin’ and bandagin’. Come, children. Let’s give yer faither and Miss Armstrong some space while they get cleaned up.”
“But—”Connor protested.
“But nothin’,”Amara said firmly. “They’re both safe, they’re both home, and that’s what matters. Now come. I believe Cook left some honey cakes in the kitchen, and I think after tonight, we’ve all earned a sweet treat.”
“Honey cakes?”Connor’s tears slowed. “Really?”
“Really. Come on, both of ye.”Amara began herding the children away, but not before catching Elijah’s eye. “The healin’ room is ready. I had them prepare it the moment Harris brought the children back.”
“Thank ye, Maither,”Elijah said quietly.
Amara’s expression softened.“I’m just glad ye’re both safe. Now go. Get that arm seen to before she loses any more blood.”
She ledConnor and Masie away, their questions and protests fading as they disappeared into the keep.
“Yer maither is very perceptive,”Piper observed.
“Aye. She doesnae miss much.”Elijah guided Piper toward a different entrance. “Come on. The healin’ room is this way.”
They walked through quiet corridors;most of the castle was asleep at this hour, until they reached a room that smelled of herbs and clean linen. Elijah lit several candles, illuminating shelves lined with jars and bottles, a large table in the center, and a basin of water that had already been prepared.
“Sit,”Elijah said, gesturing to the table.
Piper climbed up,wincing as the movement pulled at her injured arm. Now that the adrenaline was fading, the pain was becoming more noticeable. Sharp and throbbing.
Elijah movedaround the room with surprising efficiency, gathering supplies. Clean cloth. A needle and thread. A bottle of what looked like whisky. Various jars of salve and ointment.
“I dinnae ken ye had healin’skills,” Piper said, watching him work.
“I daenae,really. But I’ve stitched up enough wounds over the years to manage.” He set the supplies on the table beside her, then carefully began unwrapping the makeshift bandage. “This is goin’ to hurt. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve had worse,”Piper said, then immediately regretted it when Elijah’s jaw tightened.
“Ye shouldnae have hadany of this,” he said, his voice rough. “None of it. Nae the scars on yer back. Nae the pain yer parents inflicted. And certainly nae this.” He finished removing the bandage, exposing the long, deep cut. “I should have been faster. Should have stopped her before she slashed ye.”
“Elijah.”Piper waited until he looked at her. “This isnae yer fault. Ye saved me tonight. If ye hadnae been there, if ye hadnae come when ye did, I’d be dead. Or worse.”
“But ye’re hurt.”
“Aye.I’m hurt. But I’m alive. And I’m here. With ye. That’s what matters.”
Elijah was quiet for a moment,his fingers gentle as he cleaned the wound. Piper hissed when he poured whisky over it, the alcohol burning like fire, but she didn’t pull away.
“This is goin’to need stitches,” Elijah said. “And I’m nae as skilled as a proper healer. It’ll scar.”
“I have plenty of scars already,”Piper said. “One more willnae make a difference.”
“It makes a difference to me.”Elijah’s voice was fierce. “Every mark on yer skin is a reminder of the people who hurt ye. And I hate it. I hate that ye carry those scars. Hate that I cannae erase them.”
“Ye daenae need to erase them,”Piper said softly. “They’re part of me story. Part of what made me who I am. And if I hadnae gone through all of that, if I hadnae suffered the way I did, I wouldnae have ended up here. With ye. So maybe, maybe those scars were worth it.”
Elijah lookedat her for a long moment, something intense and unreadable in his eyes. Then he bent and pressed a kiss to her uninjured arm, just above the wrist.
