Pain slammed into her as his weight dragged her toward the edge. Below her, the white foamy waves crashed onto the jagged rocks. She fought for a handhold on the wet stony ground, something—anything—to slow her slide over the edge.
“If I go, you go,” the desperate monster of a man screamed at her.
With her fingers losing their grip on the rocks, and one leg already over the edge, Brie knew it was only a matter ofwhen—notif.
HALL WATCHED INhorror as Torquil tumbled over the edge of the cliff, dragging Bridget along with him. He jumped from his horse and threw himself forward onto his knees to grab her hand.
He pulled and she screamed, leaving little doubt that Torquil held on to her still. One look over the edge, and Hall drew his sword and swung, slicing through the silken strands of Bridget’s hair.
As the MacDowylt plunged down toward the raging water, Hall dragged her into his arms, crushing her to his chest as he moved back from the brink of disaster.
He’d almost lost her. The fear consumed him, weakening his legs so that he couldn’t stand, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but hold her close.
She clutched his shirt as if she might never let go, whimpering in his embrace.
“I’ve ruined your hair,” he managed, his mind still roiling with what might have been.
Her shoulders shook, and he didn’t know if she sobbed or laughed. He didn’t care which, only that she was safe in his arms, no matter what the Norns had woven into their tapestry as her fate.
Though he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms, there was still one last thing requiring his attention.
Releasing his hold on her, he lifted the makeshift necklace from over her head. The ruby was needed in the bag with the other jewels to secure Fenrir’s imprisonment.
“Holy Mother,” Jamesy bellowed, pulling Bridget away to wrap her in his own embrace. “Get my bag, Alex, she’s bleeding.”
With her brother taking charge, Hall rose to his feet and joined Eric, who stood near the side of the cliff.
“The last jewel,” Hall said, handing it over to Eric, who added it to the bag tied at his waist. “We’ve no cause to worry over the Beast any longer.”
“And what about Torquil?” Eric asked, turning his gaze to the rocks below. “What do you suppose became of him?”
“Fish food, likely,” Finn answered, joining them. “No one could have survived that fall.”
“As you say.” Eric looked unconvinced. “I’d feel better, though, to see his body on those rocks.”
“They’re dead?” Bridget called out, wincing as her brother tightened the wrapping around the wound on her arm. “Both of them?”
“Torquil has been taken by the sea, and Fenrir is back in the prison where he belongs.” Hall held up the bag Eric had handed him as proof before shoving it into the sporran he carried at his waist.
“Then feed the Beast to the sea as well,” Bridget demanded, her eyes bright with tears. “Prison is not punishment enough for all the evil he brought into our world.”
“Fenrir cannot be destroyed by plunging the scrolls into the sea. They would simply be tossed around by the waves until someday some poor innocent soul would rescue them from their watery home and start the process all over again.”
They couldn’t so easily pluck Fenrir’s thread from the tapestry of the Future. That was why the Elves had imprisoned him to begin with. The ancient gods of Asgard refused to order his destruction.
“You will not destroy the Beast?”
Her gaze bore into his very heart, forcing him to steel himself against the pain in her eyes. It wasn’t his place to defy the will of Asgard.
“No. This is how it must be.”
“Then we are done here,” she replied, turning away from him. “And all I fought for is truly lost.”
Lost, indeed. Clearly, in that moment, anything that might have been between him and Bridget was lost as well.
The Beast, it seemed, had won after all.
Thirty-four
