He glanced back with a half-smile. “The plaid serves by day tae wrap ye, and by night tae cover me.” He tugged it off the bed. “Tis a verra useful thing.”
He stretched out on the floor beside me, facing the bed, and with slow, deliberate motions, spread the plaid over himself, pulling it across his legs and up to his shoulders.
The candle flickered low on the table, throwing long shadows over the rough walls. The room was cramped, the air thick with smoke and ale from the hall. While I felt somewhat safer, it was all very uncomfortable. I missed my bathroom, and brushing my teeth before bed.
I missed my bedroom, even Cooper, his deep breaths beside me, keeping the side of my bed warm as my boyfriend for two years. How much time had passed since I had been kidnapped?Was he frantic?
How would we get back?
I lay on my side, facing Torin. His shoulder rose just above the bedframe, a dark shape in the fading glow of the candle. Soon the flame would gutter out, and then there would be nothing.
I missed the light.
Darkness would be near total.
No streetlight glow. No phone screen. No nightlight. Just complete, suffocating dark.
So freaking scary.
But Torin was here.
He was so still, so quiet. My chest tightened.
What if he…
“Torin?”
“Aye.”
“I’m just... scared of the dark, I think, just wanted to make sure you were there. Sorry I woke you.”
“I am nae sleepin’, I was thinkin’…”
I raised my head. “About what?”
“About how this inna a good enough room for ye. How I am nae providin’ for ye as I ought.”
“You’re doing the best you can, it’s not your fault?—”
He lifted his head. “Tis my fault. Ye were safe and comfortable in yer home. If I hadna brought this upon ye, there ye would remain… still.”
I bit my lip. It was true. And just hours ago I had hated him for it, but my heart was growing much more soft.
I whispered, “The innkeeper said this was the best room they have. You got me the best, Torin. It’s not your fault that lightbulbs haven’t been invented.”
His voice came low in the dark. “Ye miss yer burnin’ lights?”
“Yes.”
He shifted closer, raising a hand to pat the back of mine where it rested on the mattress. Instead, I caught his hand, pulled it near my face, and laced my fingers through his.
“Do you mind?” I whispered.
His voice rumbled up from the floor. “Nae.”
And he kept his hand there, big and strong and calloused and warm, allowing me to wrap around it, holding hands as we both fell asleep.
After some deep dreaming,a thud jarred me half-awake. The bed groaned under a new weight, followed by a familiar trill. Dude circled once behind my knees, then curled up tight and purred.
