I close the distance between us, my heart racing as if trying to match the rhythm of his. “I couldn't just leave things hanging,” I confess, breathless. “Not without giving it a shot. Were you trying to go back?”
He shakes his head. “Never without ye,” he sayssoftly, meaning a thousand things. “I thought ye’d be on yer flight by now. I just needed... to feel close to ye. But look,” he gestures towards the sky, “the full moon’s fading. I’m not sure if it’ll work now... or if we’re even meant to return.”
I reach for his hands, warmth radiating from his skin like a homecoming I’ve longed for.
“We can't just quit, Cal. Not on us.”
He sighs, his eyes drifting back to the shimmering loch. “I know. I was scared. Terrified of losing everything—my family, my dreams. I thought pushin’ ye away would protect ye from all the danger. Just being astubborn eejit, thinking I could handle it alone.” He pauses, his thumb tracing gentle patterns across my palm.
“Dumbest thing I’ve done since I stuck my tongue to a teeter-totter back in primary school."
A laugh bubbles out of me, light and free. “And I was awee daftieto walk away. I hate that I did.” I fall silent for a breath.
“But there’s no way I’m not going back in time to fix things—with or without you.”
A glimmer of amusement and hope lights up his eyes. “Ye’re a stubborn one, aren’t ye?”
I close the gap between us. “And you love every bit of it.”
Laughter rumbles through his chest as he pulls me into a hug, the world around us falling away until there’s only the two of us. Our lips crash together,fueled by adrenaline and longing, sealing an unspoken vow in the moonlit air.
As we pull apart,the loch begins to shimmer as if responding to our presence. The air crackles with energy, raising the small hairs on my arms.
“Do you feel that?” I whisper, my breath turning ragged.
Cal nods, his grip on my hand tightening. “Blimey, it’s happening! Everythin’s going tits up again!” I can tell he’s trying to make me laugh so I won’t feel afraid.
The world around us blurs and pink, green and purple hues melt together like a watercolor painting left in the rain. The ground beneath our feet gives way, and suddenly, we’re falling, tumbling through a Northern Lights kaleidoscope.
I cling to Cal, not wanting to lose him again, as the vortex pulls us deeper, faster, hurtling us through the fabric of time.
Though I’ve done it before, the sensation feels new. It’s both thrilling and terrifying, like the first drop on a rollercoaster, only a thousand times more intense.
And then, as suddenly as it began, it's over.
We land with a thud, the air knocked from our lungs. I blink, trying to orient myself in the noise and chaos. My eyes widen as I take in our surroundings,the reality crashing down on me—we're in the middle of a battlefield.
The back of MacDowells’ Inn and Tavern looms before us, its windows shattered, its walls scorched by fire. The sound of clashing swords and angry shouts fills the air as the townsfolk and Gregor’s clan battle around us.
"We made it," I blurt, barely able to catch my breath. Heart pounding, I scan the field. Cal’s jaw tightens as he points ahead of us.
“Look, there’s Alistair and Fergus!”
With their swords gleaming in the dim light, the brothers stand shoulder to shoulder on the battlefield. The clash of metal rings out as they fight valiantly against the enemy forces. Without warning, an agonizing wail tears from Alistair’s throat.
“Argh! The burn of it!”
A blade from an enemy sword has found its home in his leg, causing him to falter. Despite the fierce determination I see in our comrades’ faces, it’s crystal clear they’re outmatched. They need reinforcements, and fast, if there’s any chance of tipping the scales of this savage battle in our favor.
“Everything looks just like before... only worse!” I shout.
Cal’s eyes are steeled with a resolve that sends a wave of warmth cascading through my entire body, igniting every nerve ending.
“Aye, seems we’ve got a fight on our hands.”
His gaze sweeps across the battlefield, finally settling on a fallen soldier clad in the rival tartan. He bolts towards him, his muscular legs pounding against the ground. With one swift motion, he yanks the sword from the lifeless man’s grip. Its blade gleams ominously under the moonlight.
He whirls around to face me, eyes ablaze with trust and determination.
