Page 13 of A Legacy of the Light

The beauty I had dismissed as just my drunken assessment hits me hard. He is easily the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. His eyes are a warm hazel with an almost black ring around their outer edge, the tan of his skin setting off the lighter flecks in them. His dark brown hair is shorter on the sides but longer on the top; long enough to run your fingers through. He has a small amount of stubble along his strong jaw and his full lips tip up at the corner as I continue to stare at him.

His dark brows arch in amusement. Something about my stance must seem funny to him. My feet are braced apart and I hold the knife with both hands pointing the blade directly at him, slightly shaking.

“Why don’t you put down the kitchen knife and tell me your name?” he suggests.

“I don’t want to. I don’t know you won’t try to kill me and chop me into teeny tiny pieces and dissolve me in acid,” I reply, more bravely than I feel.

Tavish crosses his thick arms across his chest and leans a hip against the counter. “I’m not sure I could kill someone in such cute pajamas,” he teases, holding back laughter.

Of course I’m face to face with this gorgeous god of a man wearing pajamas with whales in Christmas hats on them.

But he’s not wrong—they are cute.

I realize that, if he wanted to kill me, he would probably have tried by now. Although he might just be trying to get me to lower my guard and then strike. I have no idea where I am, but I figure pissing him off is more likely to result in him going full Ted Bundy on me.

“Festive ocean mammals wouldn’t stop some people from murder,” I reply, lowering my trembling hands.

“That’s true, but I happen to have a soft spot for whales. Why don’t you tell me your name?” he asks.

I’m really not a threat to him, judging by how relaxed he is, and the fact he’s teasing me about my choice of nightwear. I still grip the knife. If he does lunge at me, I might get a cut or two in and that makes me feel safer. I hope it isn’t blunt.

“I’m Elsie. Elsie Aitken,” I reply.

A small smile is his only response. We continue to take each other in, his gaze wandering down my body as I resist the urge to shift on my feet. I also use that opportunity to look at him the way he’s looking at me. He’s wearing black boots up to his knee over dark pants. A leather vest sits over his fitted shirt. Both black and are cut as if they’re painted onto him.

Under any other circumstances I would be drooling all over this man, but he could be my demise, and I refuse to drool over my own grim reaper.

There’s a belt slung low on his hips with a dagger attached to it, and the pommel of a sword is visible over his broad shoulder.

“Beautiful necklace you have there,” Tavish says, breaking the silence.

I touch my hand to my chest and realize I’m still wearing the pendant. I must have fallen asleep with it on.

Tavish finally moves, pulling the dagger from his belt. I involuntarily step backward as fear climbs up my throat, readying a scream.

God I’m such an idiot. Of course he’s going to kill me!

I raise the knife in his direction.

“Hey, it’s alright. I just wanted to show you something,” he says gently, offering me the handle of his blade.

I look intently into his eyes as if I can read his thoughts through gaze alone. His eyes are captivating. I’ve never seen anything like them.

I break my stare away to glance at the handle he’s offering me. Worked into the pommel of the delicate dagger is the same intricately woven tree as my pendant, but without the emerald at its center.

Tavish pulls it from me when I reach forward to inspect it further. He smirks and says, “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself. Judging from how you’re holding that kitchen knife, I’d say you’ve never handled a weapon in your life.”

He isn’t wrong, but why would I need to? More importantly, why did he have a dagger and a sword? People didn’t use swords and daggers as weapons in this day and age.

“Where did you get that necklace? We don’t often find that marking outside our home,” he asks with genuine curiosity.

“It was a gift from my Grandpa,” I respond before I can think better of it. “Can you tell me where I am, please? I’d like to go home,” I ask, quickly forgetting about the dagger as he sheaths it back into his belt.

“I can, but it’s better that I show you. I’m not sure how easy it’s going to be to get you out. No one but the royal family is supposed to be able to get in here.”

Tavish turns to leave and I follow slowly, peering round the corner down the hallway. Resting a hand on the door, he looks over his shoulder at me. “Wait here. I’ll find you some clothes and then I’ll show you where you are and we’ll see about getting you home.”

He swiftly opens the door and leaves me alone. He was only here for a few moments, but I’m breathless after the encounter.