He leaned his head back against the rocker and closed his eyes, thinking how Carissa would never taste freedom again, and the thought brought him a modicum of joy though only for a moment. He recalled with great clarity what she said death had taught her.
No one can hurt you anymore.
As he dozed off, he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps the best punishment for Carissa was something other than death.
Carissa snuggled beneath the three blankets and, while she wanted to keep her distance in the bed, in case Ronan decided to join her, there was a chill that drifted off the wall if she got too close.
She was relieved he hadn’t come to bed yet. She feared if he lay beside her, he would detect the rapid beat of her heart and the tremble that rippled through her body. His remark had affected her more than she cared to admit. She had been accused of many things, but never had anyone dared suggest that she had no soul. She had bravely and under great duress maintained and protected the integrity of her soul. It was the one part of her she never shared until…
She fell in love.
Stop. Stop. Stop, she silently scolded in her head and continued to berate herself. For a short time love brought you joy, then it was gone. Why linger on it?
Ula the old slave had told her to embrace joy when it came her way and not to be sad when it left, for it would return and then take its leave once more and that was the way of joy, forever coming and going.
She just wished that joy had remained a bit longer.
A strange sound interrupted her thoughts, and she lay still, listening. It took her a moment to realize that it came from Ronan. He must have fallen asleep in the rocking chair, for he was snoring lightly.
She smiled and stretched out in the bed. It was all hers tonight, and pleased that she didn’t need to worry about keeping to her side, she drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
Ronan woke and rubbed his aching neck. He silently cursed himself for falling asleep in the chair and for not having added more logs to the fire before dozing off. It had dwindled enough for the room to have chilled, and he quickly added more kindling and logs, stoking it until once again the fire roared in the hearth.
He walked over to the bed, shedding all but his leggings as he went. He wasn’t surprised to see Carissa curled in a ball on her side beneath the blankets. He shivered from a sudden chill and realized that cold drifted in through the wall. The bed would have to be moved, though not tonight.
He slipped beneath the blankets before his body lost its warmth, the chilled bedding giving him a shiver, and when he finally stilled, he realized that Carissa’s body trembled. He reached out and rested his hand lightly on her arm and almost cringed, she felt so cold.
He moved closer, but not enough for their bodies to touch, though hopefully enough for his body heat to reach her. He couldn’t help but stare at her. In sleep she looked so vulnerable, especially curled up as she was.
Her trembling continued, and he grew chilled instead of her growing warm. If they were ever to get warm, they would need to embrace, lock themselves around each other, and share their heat. As reluctant as he was at the thought, the idea that they both should suffer the cold when it wasn’t necessary seemed ridiculous.
Her trembling increased, shaking the bed, and he didn’t hesitate. He wrapped himself around her, the front of him melded to the back of her, his arms secure around her, his hand resting over her fisted ones and his legs snuggled over her curled ones.
In mere minutes her trembling began to subside and, soon after, her body began to heat. Before Ronan knew it, his eyes were closing, and he was fast asleep.
Carissa was so warm and comfortable that she didn’t want to wake up. She preferred to stay as she was in this wonderfully snug cocoon. She was safe here, protected. She had never felt this protected. There was strength to this cocoon that she could not quite understand. She only knew that it was there and that she could count on it. And she didn’t care if it was just remnants of a dream, she would linger and take joy in it.
She cuddled closer, snuggling her face against the hard, though pleasant, surface. She rested her cheek there and before long she detected a sound, a steady rhythmic sound that was quite soothing. Somehow it made her feel all the more safe.
Her ears picked up another noise, a whistle of sorts, and she recalled the storm and realized it was the winter wind whistling a sharp tune. It was then she remembered where she was and it struck her that it was no cocoon she was wrapped in…it was the Highlander’s arms.
Panic almost gripped her, but she quickly chased it away. For a brief time, she had a chance to lie in his arms and pretend that she belonged there. She relished the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his flesh, the safety of his arms wrapped snugly around her. At that moment she felt as if they belonged together, that somehow fate had found a way, against all odds, to make it so.