Moment by moment, the idea of leaving him was growing more difficult.
But she was a warrior - a woman lost in her past. She wasn’t afraid, for she had nothing to lose.
Nothing, except Duncan, and he was cursed to remain trapped in the castle.
Evina forced a nonchalant smile to her mouth and shook her head. “I’m ready.” She stepped into the robe Ala offered her and let the maid lead her away to the waiting bath.
Evina glanced over her shoulder one last time to find Duncan’s gaze fixed on hers, stony and unreadable. And once more her mind ticked with the insistent cry of a warning.
CHAPTER 11
THE ROWAN TREE shuddered in an unseen breeze which caught at one of the few precious leaves. It spiraled to the earth and brushed Duncan’s cheek on its descent.
“Ye bedded her.” Resignation left Gillespie’s voice heavy.
Duncan did not answer. His mind was already decided.
“I’ve seen how she looks at ye,” Gillespie continued. “Ye’re so close, my laird.”
When Duncan still did not reply, his loyal servant stepped closer and regarded him with a watery gaze. “Ye’ll die.”
“I canna keep her from doing this,” Duncan replied. “I canna build our life on such a lie.”
Gillespie sucked in a hard breath. “Ye love her.”
Duncan’s heart crashed into his gut and he nodded. “Aye, I do. And I couldna bring myself to keep this from her.”
“Have ye told her of yer love?” Gillespie pressed.
Duncan shook his head. “I tried, but she isna ready to love as yet. It canna be reciprocated.”
“This is yer only chance.” Gillespie frowned. “I…” His words faded and his mouth fell open, his stare fixed in the direction of the castle.
Duncan turned to the castle and his heart stopped. Evina swept toward them in a simple white gown of shimmering silk with a dagger belted at her waist. Her feet were bare and silent on the thick grass, her steps so graceful she seemed to float. The length of her lovely black hair fell loose over her shoulders and around her waist, gleaming a majestic blue-purple where the sun caught it. Like a raven’s feathers.
A true daughter of Morrigan.
And she looked every part the offspring of a goddess.
Gillespie knelt in the grass and bowed his head. She stopped before him and placed a slender white hand atop his head. “Thank ye for yer help, for discovering this knowledge.”
Her gray gaze shifted to Duncan and she whispered his name. Her soft voice circled him, and caught in the enchantment of the rowan tree. The thick trunk hummed, low and beautiful, as if it meant to sing out to the ethereal blood in her veins.
Gillespie got to his feet and lifted the smoldering bundle of herbs from a stone bowl. A stream of gray smoke followed the path of where he clutched the bundle in his hand. The scent of sage and some other sweet herb Duncan could not identify surrounded them. Gillespie muttered under his breath and brushed the smoke toward Evina. She bowed her head and allowed Gillespie to circle her in a cloud of fragrant smoke and magic.
Through it all, Duncan could not remove his eyes from Evina. He wanted to break the spell Gillespie so carefully wove and drag her into his arms so he could confess how he loved her, how he needed her. For more than just keeping him alive, but for making that life have meaning.
His throat went tight with a hard knot.
Gillespie set the smoldering herb bundle into the bowl and led Evina to a circle of white stones with flecks made brilliant as they caught the sunlight.
It was all happening too quickly. Duncan stepped forward and immediately stopped himself.
He could not break this. He could not ruin Evina’s chance for what she needed.
But he could not lose her. Everything in him screamed to fight for her. Evina’s stare cut to him and held. If he was going to speak, he would need to do so now.
Except he did not. He balled his fists at his sides and said nothing.
Gillespie held his hands to the circle where Evina waited within and began a low rumbling chant. Evina’s chest rose and fell with a faster breath.
Was she nervous? Scared?
The gaze he held said nothing of her emotions. The rowan tree’s humming grew louder, its song more insistent. Evina began to fade. The wall of snow and ice billowing around the cone of sunshine became apparent through her transparent form.
Duncan tried to swallow the impossible knot from his throat, but it remained stubbornly lodged in place. Evina. His Evina. She was leaving him. Forever.
He stepped forward again. Evina’s hand came up. She reached for him, the stones and grass beneath her completely visible through her flesh.
Gillespie shouted up at the sky and the tree buzzed like the chorus of a thousand bees. Duncan’s body tingled with the threads of magic lashing through the sunlit field. The earth shuddered and lightning streaked the sky.
A brilliant white light pulsed to life at Evina’s stomach and blossomed outward, slowly overwhelming her visage. He stared into her eyes one last time before they could fade completely from his view.
“I love ye,” he whispered in a husky voice.
Her eyes went wide and her outstretched hand reached with desperation.
Emotion crushed Duncan to the ground, sending him to his knees. His heart was on fire, his soul splintering apart with her loss. He cried out in his pain and braced his body upright with his hands in the grass where cool blades bit into his palm.
He raised his voice this time, over the humming, over the chanting, over the swell of a storm surrounding their sunlit hell. He wanted her to hear it no matter where she was going. “I love ye, Evina!”
A white light flashed so brightly, it left him partially blinded. Duncan blinked through the pain. The vibrating had stopped, the chanting had
