Page 131 of First Light

And then there was Duncan.

Grumpy, horrid Duncan who was rude and pushy and angry more than he was charming. Who was constantly forcing her to eat food she didn’t like and stuffing her feet into boots that didn’t fit. Duncan who’d dragged her into a world that could easily kill her.

Because that’s what you wanted.

Carys opened the door to see him patiently waiting, leaning on the wall across the corridor. “Hello.”

Duncan pushed himself upright. “Hello.” He looked to the left and the right. “Could we have this conversation inside instead of in the corridor?”

She stepped back and opened the door a bit, but Duncan still had to angle his shoulders through the narrow passageway. She closed itbehind him and walked to the table where a bowl of forgotten apples was sitting in the center next to her journal.

“You didn’t come down for dinner, so I ordered a tray for you.” He eyed the apples. “You’re still not eating enough.”

“I’m not hungry.” She noticed his face. “The cut is almost gone.”

He touched his jaw with absent fingers. “Aisling is good at what she does.”

“I’m glad.” She waited for him to sit.

Duncan perched in the wooden chair, looking a little like a bear on a tricycle. “The leaving banquet for Dafydd and Eamer is tomorrow. You’ll need to come to that one or it’ll be considered rude.”

“I know. I will. Bonnie already told me.”

He grunted, then cleared his throat. “Carys, about this morning?—”

“We don’t need to talk about it. We were both angry, and there was probably some magic swirling around up there and she messed with our heads.” She swallowed. “Probably.”

Duncan frowned. “The fae weren’t interfering with my thoughts or my emotions.”

Fuck you for being so damn honest, Duncan Murray. I was trying to give both of us an out.

“Right.” She sighed. “Okay, so I don’t know how?—”

“Will you forgive me for being so forward, Miss Morgan?”

Carys blinked. Duncan’s tone had lost his usual roughness, and the overt lairdly accent was back in force. She pictured him in the drawing room of his mansion back in Scotland, dressed in luxurious knitwear and freshly showered with the stern countenance of his ancestors watching over his shoulder.

“Forgive you for being so…” She blinked. “Did you suddenly turn into a Jane Austen character or something? Forward? I kissedyou.”

His green eyes turned stormy. “Aye, that you did.”

Aaaaand the courtly laird was gone again.

Carys stood and started to pace. “Angus said I didn’t love Lachlan, and maybe the old goat-man is right, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings for him even when I’m severely pissed off at theman—which I am. I’m pissed off at both of you for different reasons, and honestly?” She turned to face him. “I’m tired of it. I’m tired of feeling like an emotional ping-pong ball, and I’m… tired. I’m just tired.” She swallowed hard. “And I’m sad that I found out that I had a sister I never knew because I was a really lonely kid. I wish I had known her.”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “She was easy to love. And irritating as hell, but she was a cracker.”

“Yeah.” She blinked back tears. “And someone killed her. Someone she thought was a friend. And thisisn’ta Jane Austen novel, and someone could definitely kill me even though I have a giant dragon literally sitting on me right now.” She pointed to the roof where Cadell was resting.

I am not sitting on you.

“You’re sitting on my roof, Cadell. It’s kind of the same thing.”

Duncan smiled and looked at the table. “I never questioned the bastard’s taste. That’s for damn sure.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Duncan stood. “You’re right. The important thing is to find out who killed your sister. And the political maneuverings of the royal courts here aren’t your problem either. I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

---