Their journey was coming to an end. She could feel it in the way he was pulling away from her.
And she hated it.
Rory joined her by the fire, dropping beside her. She didn’t say a word. The flames were her focus, and her eyes didn’t stray from the crackling fire. The one time she dared sneak a peek at him, his lips were pressed into a thin line, his forearms resting on his knees as he, too, stared into the flames.
She didn’t speak.
Neither did he.
And Alana came to the conclusion that the silence betwixt them was worse than any storm they would weather.
It was a torture she didn’t want to take part in.
Did he feel the same? She would never ken, because it wasn’t a question she would ever ask him.
Chapter Twenty-One
The clouds hadcleared enough that Rory could see the stars as he rested his head on his open palms and stared up at the sky. Alana slept peacefully beside him. Close enough to touch, but he restrained himself from doing so, just as he had many times since he’d first met her.
It mattered naught how much he wanted to.
She stirred and his gaze slid to her. She slept on her side, which seemed to be her favorite position, her hands tucked under her cheek. A lock of her hair fell across her eyes.
He sighed, wishing things were different. Different circumstances. A different time. A different place.
Just different.
“Can ye no’ sleep?” she whispered, pushing the hair out of her face, and pushing up to rest on her arm. “Ye should try,” she urged when he shook his head no.
Just beyond the perimeter of the light of the fire, there was a rustle in the brush. A distinct rustle that Rory kenned well. He stiffened and Alana sat up, immediately realizing something was amiss.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice low as her eyes, wide with fear, scanned the darkness.
He moved to her side, and instinctively, he moved her behind him as he grabbed his dagger, standing at the ready just as a wild boarcharged them from the undergrowth. Behind him, Alana screamed as the beast rumbled toward them, snorting angrily as it gnashed its teeth.
Pushing Alana out of harm’s way, he yelled to her. “Stay down,” he shouted as he struck out at the beast, his blade sinking into its shoulder as the animal roared, kicking out and swinging its large head to and fro. Rory jumped back out of the way of its sharp tusks, trying not to get stabbed.
When it charged again, he swung his blade once more, this time hitting the boar in its rear flank. With a yelp, he thundered through their camp, nearly running into the fire, afore he disappeared into the woods on the other side, the sound of breaking branches echoing in its wake.
Rory ran to Alana, dropping to the ground beside her. His heart racing in his chest as he looked her over, checking her for wounds. Both of their breaths coming in short gasps.
“W-w-will he come back?” Her voice wavered, she was scared to death. It was evident in her pale face and her round eyes.
“Nay, we are safe. Are ye hurt?” He asked, worry making his question come out in a rough voice. As he waited for her to answer, he checked her for injuries, his hands roaming over her arms, her waist, her legs, taking care for her already injured ankle.
She shook her head.
He breathed a sigh of relief. She was fine, but she trembled violently.
Grasping his shirt in her fists, she whispered, “Ye could have been killed.” The pain and worry in her voice were like a punch to the gut. It was the realization that she was just as scared that he had been harmed as he was for her.
It was an awakening that seemed to take over his soul.
She cared for him. The way she was clinging to his shirt, looking up at him with her beautiful hazel eyes boring into his. It was then hekenned. The dawning of what was growing betwixt them that had him wanting more. Without thinking of the consequences or not caring about what the consequences would be, his mouth was on hers afore he could stop himself. His need raw and desperate.
Alana kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he reveled in the feeling of her. The taste of her. His tongue explored her mouth as if he was discovering a new land, and she let him. Sighing into him as her body relaxed flush against his, as her fists clutched at him.
He lowered them to the blankets, not breaking the kiss. He wasn’t ready for that yet. He didn’t care that he was desperate for air. He was desperate for Alana’s touch even more. Her kiss. Her mouth. Her taste.
