Page 84 of Enchantment of a Highlander

Alec raced down the narrow stairwell when a bundle of blankets on the thick sill of the window caught his attention.

Celia sat with her legs drawn to her chest and one of the heavy blankets from the bed wrapped tight around her. Her head lay against her arm, her eyes closed with the oblivion of sleep where she lay beneath a veil of moonlight.

He watched her for a moment. Her relaxed features left her face soft. Sweet.

The tender smile warmed in his chest before it spread across his lips.

It would be far easier to coax his slumbering beauty into bed than saving her had been.

Alec eased closer to where Celia slept on the windowsill. Though she was petite, she barely fit.

“Celia,” he called softly.

She squeezed herself tighter and whimpered.

This time he reached out and gently brushed a triangle of exposed skin on her back. “Celia.”

Her body clenched tighter, flinching from his touch.

She glanced up at him, her gaze hard and cautious. Her eyes found his and widened. “Forgive me,” she said, breathless. “I thought…”

She shook her head and cradled her brow with the curve of her fingers.

“Are ye well, lass?” he asked.

She looked up with a smile he didn’t believe. “I am.”

He held out his hand for her to take. “Will ye come back to bed?” He looked pointedly at his own partial nudity. “I can feel a draft, aye?”

A real smile threatened the corner of her lips. She reached up for his hand and allowed him to lead her up the stairs, toward the darkness of his open door.

Her steps faltered and her pulse quickened against his fingertips.

“I don’t…” she started.

He turned to face her. The warmth of her hand had gone icy cold. “Celia, what is it?” he asked.

She pulled away from his grasp, jerking from him like he meant her harm. Her gaze went wide and luminous.

“I can’t.” Tears slid silent down her face and shimmered in the soft light. “It’s too dark.”

• • •

Celia tried to swallow her terror, but found it too large to fit down her throat.

Shadows loomed beyond Alec’s open door, waiting to suck her into its eternal abyss.

How could she explain it to Alec, who was so sure, so brave?

Her leg muscles were stiff, but she forced them forward, toward the source of her fear.

She passed under the doorway as if in a dream and the black pressed against her like a hideous demon. It clawed at her heart and ripped her paper-thin bravery to shreds.

Her throat rasped where the demon locked the air from her lungs and held her captive.

She was sliding to a place she did not want to go, where she’d lie in the darkness waiting to die.

The last torch had long since been snuffed.