“What I said was for their benefit, not yours.”
“I know,” Fiona said, though something traitorous inside her hadn’t quite believed it.
His gaze met hers then, and the world narrowed to the space between them.
Two people who barely knew each other.
But who had just run headlong into life and death together.
No familiarity.
No trust.
Just instinct.
And the dangerous spark of something neither of them had the sense, or the desire, to put out.
He didn’t tell her to leave.
He didn’t warn her off.
He didn’t rebuild the wall.
He just stood there, breathing hard, watching her like he hadn’t planned for this twist in his story and didn’t know how to walk around it.
And for the first time, Fiona realized—
Harris Mackenzie hadn’t just saved her.
He’dchosenher.
If only for a moment.
If only because something in him refused to let her break in front of him.
He turned slightly, nodding toward the fire. “Your horse’ll settle in a bit. Sit, if ye like.”
It wasn’t an invitation.
Not really. But it wasn’t a dismissal, either.
And for a man like Harris Mackenzie, running, hunted, and alone,
That meant everything.
Fiona stepped toward the fire.
He didn’t stop her.
And somewhere deep inside, something irrevocable shifted.
Not trust.
Not yet.
But the first thread of a bond neither of them realized they’d already started tying.
By the time the moon climbed past the trees, the woods had quieted again. No soldiers, no snapping twigs, nothing but the sigh of wind and the restless snort of Dubh stamping at the underbrush.
