Page 82 of Wild Scottish Fortune

“Yes,” I said softly, though I wasn’t. Not even close. I forced myself to box off my emotions, a tool I’d long used through the years, and lifted my chin, refusing to cry.

“What are you?” Fin asked, his voice a rasp in the stillness of the cottage.

“I’m a House Witch. A member of the Order of Caledonia, tasked with protecting Loren Brae.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.”

“You have magick. Actual magick?” Fin’s eyes implored me to tell him anything but.

“Aye.”

Fin stepped back, and my heart broke.

“You hid this from me.”

“Aye.” There was nothing else I could say. I was wrong, oh so wrong to have kept this part of myself from him.

“You’re…you’re a witch? An actual witch? And you never said one bloody word to me. After I shared so much ofmyself with you. I can’t… I just can’t.” Fin wiped a hand over his face, his expression a mixture of sadness and agony.

“Fin…I…” I raised a hand, my emotions fighting with my thoughts and clogging the words in my throat.

“Don’t, Orla. Just don’t. I can’t…I just…” Fin stepped backward, outside the cottage, and looked at me. “Get out here.”

“Fin, please. You have to understand…” I raised a hand, but he just shook his head.

“Please get out of the cottage so I know you’re safe.”

I did what I was told, my legs moving mechanically, until we both stood, shrouded by the canopy of branches over our heads.

“I’m sorry?—”

“Don’t. I’m not ready to hear it.” Fin’s voice vibrated with fury, and I flinched. Even though I knew this would be goodbye, I had hoped for some understanding from him. If only he’d let me explain. Instead, without another word, Fin turned on his heel and stomped away, leaving me, broken-hearted and bloody, on the steps of where my ancestor was murdered.

Marie’s laughter carried to me on the wind.

“He’ll do the same. As soon as he sees what you are…he’ll never be able to love you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Finlay

Ihad to walk away before I scared her.

My temper was a rare thing to behold, and I knew, particularly because of Orla’s past, that showing it to her would potentially make her feel unsafe. So I left.

I walked away before I lost it.

I wasn’t just mad at her for lying to me.

I was furious that something, somethingthat I couldn’t fight or do anything about, had hurt her. It had taken everything in my power not to rush to her, to check her head wound, to make sure she wasn’t hurt more deeply. Only when I realized that she was practicing magick had the other shoe dropped.

Orla was a witch.

And she’d been hiding it from me all along.

It was such a blow to my heart, the one that had beensinging love songs and mapping out a careful future for Orla and me. I trusted her, or so I’d thought, and she’d hidden something monumental from me.

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