“Duncan,” Sorcha said softly.
“Aye.” The word caught in Evina’s throat. “I might already be too late.” She caught Sorcha’s hand in hers. The girl’s fingers were cool and dimpled with the extra flesh of youth. “Please.”
The flock of crows settled on the ground before them and began to meld into a large, black mass. Sorcha flicked a glance to the shifting cloud of birds once more and then closed her eyes. Her small mouth moved in a steady chant similar to the one Gillespie had muttered to bring her into this world.
The mass rose and stretched, taking on the unmistakable shape of a woman. The world began to spin, and blurred the forming image of a face. The face she’d spent a lifetime wanting to see.
“I’ll miss ye, sister,” Sorcha said softly.
A scream cut the air, sharp with a soul-deep hurt.
My daughter.
The words whispered around Evina, carried on the wind and echoing deep in a hollow place within her heart.
My daughter. I have lost her again!
Tears ran down Evina’s cheeks and were immediately blown dry by the whirling wind around her. The world spun in such a way, she could no longer discern the dark shape nor feel any firm ground beneath her feet.
“Forgive me, Mother,” she cried out. “Forgive me.”
The chaotic motion stopped and Evina was rendered blind by a golden glow. She covered her eyes to shield the pain of the brilliant light. The scent of sun-warmed earth surrounded her. A familiar smell. The haven of the rowan tree.
Evina lowered her hands to find the tree stretching naked toward a magical sky. She searched the grass and her heart caught.
There, laying in the grass several feet away, was the prone form of Duncan Maclean. The man she loved. The man she was not willing to sacrifice.
She was too late.
CHAPTER 13
EVINA STARED A LONG MOMENT, held in place by shock. Duncan did not move. Evina’s legs moved into action, propelling her to where he lay in a cradle of soft grass. His face lay turned to the side, his eyes closed and his body entirely still.
“Duncan.” Her voice shook with fear, with disbelief.
He did not respond. She waited, possibly for his eye lids to flinch, or the grass near his lips to stir with his breath. Anything.
Neither happened and Evina’s blood went cold. She pulled at his shoulders to roll him onto his back. His body obediently flopped over without issue. A sob choked in her throat. He had always been so strong, so sure and now… Now he had the emptiness of a doll tossed aside and forgotten.
“Duncan,” she whispered. Tears burned hot in her eyes. She reached out with trembling fingers and pressed her palm over his heart, hoping, expecting for the steady thud. The flesh beneath her fingertips remained still. A white hot pain coiled in the pit of her stomach and curled into something hard and sharp.
No.
No.
No.
Her gaze scrambled over him in an attempt to find a wound, some kind of injury she might work with her limited skills to heal. Nothing.
Frustration clogged her throat and she choked out a harsh sob. Damn it, she was no healer. She didn’t know how to make this right.
Slowly, she dragged her gaze up the length of his body and let her stare rest on his face.
His face was pale, relaxed. She brushed a strand of hair from his cheek and found his skin warm. It was all as if he were only sleeping. But he wasn’t asleep.
She crumpled around the pain in her gut, in her chest. He was dead.
Her heart was splintering apart with the most unimaginable pain. She’d lost everyone in her life. Her memories, her mother, her sisters, her father, her hope at understanding her past.
She couldn’t lose him too. Not Duncan.
“Nay.” Her voice was a high-pitched keen of emotion in her own ears. “Please no.” She bent over him and lay her head on his still warm chest.
A tidal wave of cherished recollections dragged her under the surface of her grief, flooding her with images how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how he sought to protect her when she needed no protecting, the endearing way his hands had shaken the first time he’d touched her, and the countless hours he’d sat opposite her in their search for information on Morrigan.
He’d given her the opportunity to see her mother, even though he knew he was Evina’s sacrifice.
I love ye, Evina.
His cry as she’d disappeared to Morrigan’s home echoed in her soul. He loved her. Truly and without question.
She tightened her fists around the loose fabric of his léine. “I’m no’ ready to lose ye.” She gritted her teeth. “Duncan, I canna lose ye. I love ye.”
The dam holding back the worst of the hurt buckled beneath those words and a pain unlike anything Evina had ever acknowledged washed over her. Her sobs became uncontrollable and left her gasping, her body shaking. His léine beneath her cheek had gone wet with her sorrow. She continued to lay thus, crying and helpless. Completely, utterly helpless to save the man she loved.
Something moved against the heel of her hand resting on Duncan’s chest. She froze. Was it something she’d done? Had she somehow made him move?
The thing moved again beneath her hand. Slow at first, then building into the familiar rhythm of a heartbeat. Evina jerked upright and stared down at Duncan through tear-swollen eyes.
“Duncan,” she gasped. “Please come back to me. I canna be without ye. No’ when I love ye so desperately.”
Color slowly came to his face, turning the paleness of his lips and cheeks to a very alive pink once more. His brow furrowed and he blinked his eyes open. Those wonderful, dark eyes which looked into Evina’s soul and found something beautiful enough to love there.
“Evina?” He sat up and groaned.
She braced her arms around his sturdy back. “Easy. Ye’ve only just…” Just what? Come back from having been dead?
“Ye’re here.” His voice was hoarse, but it was the
