They walked back to the castle together as the stars began to emerge overhead. And Alpin tried very hard not to think about how right it felt to have her at his side.
Or how much he wanted to keep her there.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Are ye sure this is safe?"
The battlements were cold at night, the stone still holding the chill of the fading autumn day. Mhairi wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she followed Alpin up the narrow stairs, their footsteps echoing in the quiet.
She glanced at the drop on either side as they emerged onto the walkway.
"Perfectly safe." Alpin's voice was warm with amusement. "Unless ye're plannin’ tae climb onto the crenellations and dance."
"I'll try tae restrain meself."
He led her to a wider section of the battlements, where the wall curved outward, providing a better view of the sky.
The stars were scattered across the darkness like silver dust, brighter than Mhairi had ever seen them at her father's keep.
"It's beautiful," she breathed.
"Aye." But when she glanced at him, Alpin was looking at her rather than the sky.
Heat crept up her neck. She turned her attention firmly back to the stars, pretending she hadn't noticed. "Dae ye come up here often?"
"When I need tae think. Or when the castle feels too small." He settled himself against the wall, close enough that she could feel his warmth but not quite touching. "Me maither used tae bring me and me sister up here when we were bairns. She'd tell us stories about the constellations."
"What kind of stories?"
"Old ones. About warriors and queens and great battles fought in the heavens." Alpin tilted his head back, studying the sky. "She said that every constellation had a story, and that we could make our own if we wanted."
Mhairi looked up at the vast expanse of stars. "Make our own?"
"Aye. See those three stars there?" He pointed to a cluster near the horizon. "And that bright one just above them?"
"Aye."
"What dae they look like tae ye?"
Mhairi studied them, letting her imagination wander. "A... rope, maybe? With the bright star at the end like a knot."
"A rope," Alpin repeated thoughtfully. "And what would ye call it?"
She thought about the ropes that had bound her wrists at the auction. About Alpin cutting through Ashcombe's bindings in the forest. About breaking free.
"The Broken Rope," she said quietly.
Alpin went very still beside her. When he spoke, his voice was rough. "Aye. That's a good name."
They stood in silence for a moment, both looking at the constellation Mhairi had just named. Then Alpin pointed to another cluster of stars.
"What about those?"
That group formed a rough shape, four bright stars in a square with two trailing behind like a cloak. "A man," Mhairi said slowly. "Standin’ strong. Protectin’ something."
"And what would ye call him?"
She turned to look at Alpin—at the scar on his face, at the strength in his shoulders, at the fierce protectiveness in his eyes whenever he looked at her.
