There’s a loud rustling. A laugh.
Callum abruptly pulls back.
A man stands just beyond the cottage. A thin shaft of torchlight catches his gap-toothed grin.
Hamish comes from behind. Pushing the man aside, he steps from the shadows. “How precious you both are.” He picks his way over a fallen log to get closer. “But I warned you. I will have my turn plucking this bonnie rose.”
Callum draws his sword. “You’ll not pluck anything but my steel from your belly.”
Hamish gives him an amused smirk. “Is that so? ’Tis well enough. I’ll do business with you first.” He unsheathes his sword. “There’s no bog at hand, but I can devise other punishments suitable for a thief.”
More men emerge from the trees, gathering around Hamish. The young Campbell is issuing instructions, and though I recognize the words as English, I can’t wrap my mind around their meaning.
I want to press pause. To stop. To think.
Callum turns his complete and urgent focus on me. “You must go.” He uses his free hand to pull me to thedoor, and kicks it open.
The blackness inside terrifies me more than Hamish and his thugs. I dig in my heels. “No. Not without you.”
“Only you may pass. Please, Rose.” He nudges me, enough that I stumble closer to the doorway. “It must be now.” I look back at him in disbelief, and for a heartbeat, something in his eyes falters, breaks. His jaw clenches, voice dropping. “Go.”
Pain slices through my chest, stealing my breath. Do hearts actually break? This can’t be happening. I found him across centuries. I fought for him, ran with him, chose him. I would have given up everything for him.
And now he’s making the choice for me.
I resort to stupid, childish, adolescent sentiments, flinging the only words I can manage. “I thought you cared about me.”
“Och, fool lass.” His hand spasms around mine, fiercely pulling me back to him. Our chests slam together, and he kisses me, hard. “I love you.Only and always you. And that’s why I must do this.”
His eyes are molten now, the gray gone to liquid silver, searing through me.
The men are speaking, laughing and sauntering closer, but my entire self is only for Callum. I plead in a frantic whisper, “Let’s stay together. I don’t care about curses.”
“My dearest Rosie-love,” he rasps. “Don’t you see? Donag’s curse demands MacGregor blood. Mine will do.”
The words strike like a blade. He’s made his choice. And I know, there’s no stopping him. Not with love. Not with logic.
Not even with me.
He chants a quick stream of words andshoves me toward the doorway. I lurch forward, trying to catch myself, but the world bends and warps around me.
“Wait!” I reach for Callum, but my hand slides through him.
A sob tears from me as I spin, grasping for the door frame, but my fingers pass through air. I’m already dissolving. Vanishing.
“I love you,” he shouts, voice cracking on the words. “My dearest, my only, my Rosie MacGregor. ’S ann leatsa a tha mo chridhe gu bràth—my heart is yours forever.”
“No!” I reach desperately for the rotted wood, my hands grasping at nothing. I can’t feel anything anymore.
I see Callum’s face, his eyes burning with love and agony.
He pushes me one last time.
And the world disappears.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
