His eyes searched hers. “Lily, ye cannae let what happened keep ye from what matters now. There are people waiting for ye. People who will die without ye.”
Her breath caught, and she was certain he saw it.
“There are healers, aye,” he said, his voice softer now. “But they’re nae ye. They daenae have yer knowledge or yer heart. They daenae have the hands of a woman born to heal. But ye do.”
She stopped struggling, but her hands remained pinned above her head, her chest rising and falling with every shaky breath.
“Me people need ye, Lily,” he said. “Ineed ye.”
A long beat of silence passed between them.
She could see it in his eyes; he was being honest. His people really did need her. Her shoulders dropped.
“I’ll come with ye,” she eventually said. “And I willnae fight ye anymore.”
He blinked at her. “Nay more tricks?”
She sighed. “Nay more tricks. But it will only be for a month.”
He frowned. “What?”
“If I am to come with ye, I will only be staying for a month and that is it.”
“Lily—”
“I am nae negotiating this, Alasdair. If ye care about yer people as much as ye say ye do, ye will take the deal.”
A tense pause passed between them.
“Fine,” he responded, his voice firm. “One month.”
Alasdair pushed himself off her slowly, brushing the dirt from his trousers. Lily rose to her feet as well, her palms aching and her dress wet from the damp soil. She said nothing, and he did the same as they both climbed up the slope, breathing heavier than before.
“Where are yer men?” she asked once they stepped onto even ground.
“I told them to go ahead,” he responded, his tone as curt as it had been earlier.
She frowned. “And why would ye do that?”
“So I could catch ye,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing. “I daenae need their help when it comes to ye.”
“A bit arrogant, are ye nae?” Lily scoffed.
“Just honest. I’ve always handled ye on me own. Never needed a second hand. I didnae need one then. I most certainly daenae need one now.”
She looked away, ignoring the flush that crept into her cheeks. The path ahead was dotted with shadowy trees and thick shrubs. Her heart lurched.
“What if we’ve gone the wrong way?” she asked. “What if we cannae find yer horse again?”
Alasdair huffed. “Relax. I ken this forest like the back of me hand. We’re close.”
She narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing more, choosing instead to trail behind. Perhaps if she were alone on her own, she would be terrified to her core. But having him in front of her, even though he was limping, seemed to allay her fears.
The quiet was far from peaceful. It was filled with unspoken thoughts and tense movements. She wanted to speak, and she was certain from the way he moved that he wanted to do so as well. Her boots sank slightly in the damp soil.
He stumbled suddenly, tripping over a rock hidden in the dark. She caught him without thinking, her hand firm on his arm.
“Like the back of yer hand, aye?” she muttered.
