Page 45 of Taken By the Exiled Laird

"For what?" Theon asked.

"For comin' for me."

He shook his head. "Ridiculous woman. I told ye before. I'll always come for ye."

She threw her arms around him, and he held her tight, murmuring low, rough, soothing words in her ear. The pressure of him holding her was the most soothing thing she had ever experienced, and for just a moment everything felt right with the world.

Until Theon's hands loosened on her back and his body sagged, crumpling forward into her arms. She stumbled under his unexpected weight, falling to the ground as she tried to support him.

"Theon?" she asked.

He did not answer. He was limp, unmoving against her. When she looked down, blood was soaking into her dress where his body touched hers.

"No!" she cried. Panic crept in and she shook him, rolling him off her onto his back. "Theon. Theon!"

But there was no answer as the darkness swallowed them both.

Epilogue

The smell of smoke lingered in the air, but birds were cautiously singing as they circled the remnants of that part of the forest, seeking an opportunistic meal as they surveyed the damage. Light shone from the sky as the sun peered through the clouds at last, not particularly warm but steady, a nurturing promise that there was still life in the world yet.

Theon blinked against the bright light as his eyes opened.

He tried to move, but his body protested violently, and so he lay still as he tried to understand what had happened and where he was. He blinked a few times, then he understood. He lay on a charred but intact woven rug, staring at the sky through the gaping hole where the ceiling of his cabin had once been. He was back at camp somehow. Or, at least, what was left of it.

He turned his head to see Briana fast asleep, curled up at his side. She was pressed against him, one arm wrapped protectively around his waist, and his heart melted to see her there. He must have made a noise, because the next thing he knew, her eyes fluttered open and she looked up to meet his gaze.

"Theon," she breathed, his name sounding like a prayer as she uncurled herself and reached up to kiss him. He accepted the sweet greeting like it was fresh honey, savoring the briefest touch of her lips even though he struggled to understand what had happened. "Thank God. Thank God. I thought… I thought…"

He touched her cheek. The memory came flooding back. The MacFarlanes retreating. The pain and exhaustion overwhelming him. Then the blackness. He'd been sure that he'd reached his end at that moment, his only comfort being that at least he'd seen Briana one last time. But it seemed that, like with so many things, he'd been wrong.

"How did ye get me here?" he asked. "How am I alive?"

"Ye had only one deep wound, and it wasnae severe, just a heavy bleeder," Briana explained. "I was able tae sew it up, though we should find a herbalist tae make sure it doesnae get infected. I dinnae ken how ye managed it when ye were so beaten up, but ye had nae severe injuries at all. Yer body must have succumbed tae the exhaustion, but all ye needed was tae rest."

He considered that, absently trailing his fingers up and down her arm. "But that doesnae explain how I'm here."

"I got ye ontae the horse. It took some effort, I'll admit it, but…" Briana shook her head. "I couldnae leave ye. I needed tae make sure ye were somewhere safe. I brought ye back here hopin' that the others would be able tae help ye, but…"

Dark foreboding crept into Theon's heart. "The others? Graeme? Noah? Keir?"

Briana shook her head, her expression pained. "I searched everywhere. There's nothin' here but bodies."

Theon started, but she placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"Cameron bodies," she amended quickly. "There's nae sign of yer brothers. I pray that means they escaped."

He exhaled, relaxed back down onto the rug. "They did," he replied with a certainty that came from somewhere deep inside him. If they were dead, he would know it. "They needed tae scatter. They kent it was the only way tae survive. But we'll find each other again when the time is right."

Briana stretched out next to him, resting her head on his chest. "Even Keir?"

"He came back tae tell me ye'd been taken, love," Theon told her, his chest swelling with pride and gratitude. It could not have been easy for Keir to risk everything for the sake of a Cameron. He would have to make sure to find him soon and let him know how grateful and proud he truly was. "Without him, I'd have never kent how tae find ye."

Briana was quiet for a long time. "I've thought Noah dead once before. I'll never make that mistake again. He and Graeme, and, aye, Keir… they're fighters. Just like ye. Just like us."

Theon chuckled, but there was a stab of sadness and weariness behind it. "Aye. Well we need tae be fighters for what's ahead. It isnae just about an old grudge anymore. I threatened and humiliated Iain. And ye—ye stabbed Malcolm MacFarlane. They'll never stop huntin' us."

"Let them," Briana replied with a steady certainty. "We'll run for as long as we have tae, and when we're ready, when we're together again and prepared, we'll fight. We'll take back what's yers—we'll take back what they stole from all of our people."