It had grown so dark, they needed torches to see clearly, but his men took their positions at the oars. Styr took the rudder and the Irishmen removed their ropes, releasing his ship.
“Thank you for looking after our sister,” Ronan said. “But we’ll take her home now.”
“Safe journey to you,” Styr bade them. He searched for a glimpse of Caragh, but in the darkness, he could no longer see the far side of the boat where she’d been sitting. It seemed she had already voiced her farewell, and he’d not see her again.
It was likely for the best. At the moment, he needed to get his ship out to the open sea where they could unfurl the sails and gain speed. The night was clear, and the full moon was bright. It would take a few hours to reach the place of the green island.If the moonlight illuminated the shore, it was possible that they could make camp at the site where Elena and Ragnar had disappeared.
Gods, but he was grateful to be back on board his own ship. His men began to row, using their strength to move the vessel across the waves.
When Styr took his place at the side rudder, he spied a lone figure, huddled within a cloak.
And he knew.
Tearing off the cloak, he saw Caragh’s dark hair. “What do you think you’re doing?” His mind spun with the realization that her brothers would think he’d stolen her. He needed to take her back, and—
“Coming with you.” She stood aboard the ship and reached for one of the torches. Holding it, she stood across from her brothers’ boat, lifting her hand to them. “And now they know that this was my choice.”
“They’ll come after you.”
She shook her head. “No. I spoke with Brendan. He knew what I planned to do.”
“Why?” he demanded, taking the torch from her and returning it to the iron sconce. “You have no place with us.”
“Don’t I?” She regarded him steadily, taking a seat near the rudder. “All my life, I’ve done what others told me to do. I obeyed my parents and my brothers. I stayed at home and did what I could to take care of Brendan. I’ve never done anything that I wanted to do. Not until now.”
She lowered her voice so that only he could hear her. “You kissed me back.”
“Yes.” He offered no excuses for it, but there were none to give.
“I just want to stay with you, until the end,” she whispered.
And then, he understood. She needed to know if Elena was alive, to know whether or not he would return to his wife. But more, she wanted to know if he felt any love for her at all.
His chest tightened, holding back the words of dishonor. Caragh’s bright spirit and her fascination with new experiences and places made it easy to enjoy her presence. Around her, he could be himself. He didn’t have to think about the way she wanted him to act or whether or not the moon was in the correct phase to have a child.
He could simply be.
“Stay,” he said. He refused to think of the implications, or worry about what the morning would bring if he found Elena. But the thought of finding his wife no longer brought a sense of relief or joy. It was an obligation he had to fulfill.
The thought of living with her, sensing her disappointment in his inability to give her a child...made him wary. He knew the truth of his marriage. It had reached the breaking point, and he didn’t know what he wanted any more. Elena hadn’t been happy in years.
But if he ended their union, she had another choice. She could find another man to marry, and perhaps have the baby she wanted. He didn’t have to imprison her in a marriage filled with resentment and lost hopes.
He could set both of them free. All he had to do was speak the words of divorce in the presence of witnesses.
And Thor’s blood, it tempted him. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in her scent. Wishing it was Caragh who belonged to him.
She took his hand, gazing up at the stars. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
He leaned in, his hand catching the hair at her nape. Without taking his eyes from her, he admitted, “Yes.”
He didn’t know how long they sat beside one another, but he held her hand in his, grateful for her presence.
The winds eased their travel, bringing them near to the green stone. The fragment of rock rose up from the sea, coated in moss and grasses. The sight of it, reflected against the moonlit sea, tightened the nerves inside of Caragh. From the moment Styr saw it, he’d grown more distant, as if plagued by thoughts he wouldn’t voice. The men drew the ship in as close as they dared, and Styr carried her to the shore, never minding that his clothes grew soaked in the sea.
They made camp, building a fire and eating the food his men had brought along with them. Though she knew she ought to be tired, a restlessness heightened within Caragh. And when they made camp, Styr set up her tent far away from the others.
Away from him.
