Page 85 of Midnight Conquest

The distant mew of a cat broke his thoughts. He passed through a narrow alley, his boots clicking against the cobblestone, and strolled onto the main road leading out of town. He gave a nod to a bleary-eyed fisherman passing by, blending effortlessly into the predawn haze.

Yards ahead, he veered off into the tree line, the dense forest swallowing him whole. The scent of damp earth and pine rose around him as he shed the last of his human pace, dashing through the underbrush with unnatural speed.

His long coat flared behind him like wings as he raced parallel to the road that led north. A smile curved his lips as he raced through the night.

Broderick MacDougal would never see him coming.

Chapter Fifteen

The observation tower of the castle offered an unparalleled view of the late-night sky, and tonight, the heavens had unveiled themselves in all their glory. Not a single cloud marred the expanse of deep, endless black, and the stars glittered like scattered jewels, their light so bright it set the world aglow.

Davina directed her smile at Finlay. “You know the stars better than I do. Tell me something intriguing about them.”

Finlay chuckled, the sound deep and pleasant. “Very well.” He pointed toward the east, to where a trio of stars glimmered in a perfect line. “There is Orion’s Belt, as you know. But did you also know the Egyptians believed the pyramids were aligned to mimic the stars of that constellation? They thought it would guide their souls to the afterlife.”

Davina turned to him, her brow lifting in surprise. “I didn’t know that about the pyramids. How fascinating.” Her eyes gleamed with curiosity, and Finlay grinned at her, clearly pleased to have piqued her interest.

“And there,” he continued, gesturing to a cluster of faint stars near Orion, “is the Pleiades. They’re said to be the Seven Sisters, chased endlessly by Orion across the heavens. In some stories, the gods turned them into stars to save them from his pursuit.”

Davina tilted her head, her lips pressing into a thoughtful line. “Saved, but forever running. How tragic. Do you think Orion ever tires of the chase? Or maybe that is another tale they misrepresented.”

Finlay shrugged lightly, his gaze lingering on her rather than the sky. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it’s not the destination that matters, but the pursuit itself.”

His words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Davina felt her smile fade, a flutter of unease stirring in her chest. She shifted her gaze back to the stars, the weight of his attention pressing against her conscience. She suddenly wished she’d worn a heavier cloak.

Leaning against the cold stone railing, she drew in a breath, her exhale misting in the crisp November air. She tipped her head back, her eyes tracing the constellations above. “How lucky we are the sky is so clear tonight. It’s beautiful,” she whispered a touch wistful.

Finlay stood just a breath too close, his warmth a shield against the chill. But he wasn’t looking at the stars. His gaze remained fixed on her, his expression gentle yet full of quiet intent.

“Aye,” he murmured richly. “You are.”

She turned to him, and before she could speak, he leaned in. His hand brushed her cheek, his fingertips surprisingly soft against her chilled skin. Then he dipped his head, and his lips met hers.

The kiss was gentle, sweet, and unhurried. Finlay’s lips werewarm, his touch tender. For a moment, Davina allowed herself to sink into it, to let the warmth of the moment wash over her.

But something was missing.

There was no fire.

No scorching heat coursing through her veins, no breathless anticipation. Finlay’s kiss was lovely—perfect, even. But it wasn’t Broderick.

Her treacherous mind betrayed her, conjuring images of Broderick’s roguish smile, the way his lips curved with mischief and danger all at once. His touch had set her ablaze, igniting something wild and untamed within her. Finlay’s kiss, though sincere, lacked that spark.

Finlay pulled back slightly, his hand still cradling her face. His eyes searched hers, full of affection and hope. “Davina,” he said, dropping to one knee before her. “You are unlike any woman I have ever met. Your wit, your strength, your kindness… I am utterly captivated by you. I know I cannot compare to the wild tales of romance or the heroes of the stars, but I promise you this—I will make you happy. I will honor you, respect you, adore you. If you are agreeable… Davina, will you grant me the pleasure of being my wife?”

Davina’s breath caught, her heart twisting painfully in her chest. Finlay’s words were sincere, his devotion clear. He was everything she could hope for in a husband—kind, intelligent, and steady.

And yet…

Her thoughts strayed once more to Broderick. To his fiery gaze, the way he could unravel her defenses with a single, smoldering look. But Broderick wasn’t the marrying type. He’d made that clear. She couldn’t pin her hopes on a man who would never see her as more than a fleeting temptation.

Finlay was her future.

She smiled softly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Aye…I would be honored to have you as my husband.”

Relief and joy lit up his face, and he rose, pulling her into his arms and kissing her again—this time with more passion, more fervor. But even as Davina responded, her chest was a cavern. Her head told her this was the right choice, but her heart dropped into the abyss.

When they broke apart, Finlay grinned. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”

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