Page 15 of The Protector’s Promise

“Court?”

He made his way back to the fire. He tossed a log onto it and sat.

“I will not apologize for trying to take what’s mine.”

He looked up just as Marion had reached the center of camp. She stood above him looking . . . well . . . damned beautiful. “As I will not apologize for stealing something I wanted.”

“The stone—”

“I wasn’t talking of the stone.”

Why was she so taken aback? Surely she had noticed he desired her.

“I propose a truce.”

She sat on her own log, thankfully too far away for him to touch her.

When he looked up, her expression was completely transformed. Another vision. This time, Marion appeared crestfallen. As suddenly as it came, the vision disappeared.

She watched him, waiting. “Another vision?” she guessed.

He swallowed. “Something happened recently,” he said, not knowing if it were true, unable to detect if the vision was a part of Marion’s past or future. “Something that made you feel extremely sad?” he guessed.

“Likely when I learned you’d stolen the stone from the priestess.”

But he was already shaking his head. “Nay, before that.”

She looked down. Toward her hip. Toward the mark.

“What is it, Marion? What happened?”

Marion shook her head.

He stood and walked toward her. He bent down, the desire to comfort her overwhelming.

“I didn’t want it to be true.” She spoke so quietly, it took Court a moment to realize what she said.

“The calling,” he guessed. Though her head was still bent, he could see her eyes close briefly. A blessing . . . and a curse. The thing that made her special, or so she believed.

And he had claimed it.

Court lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“The truce? If you’ll have it still.”

Even frowning, Marion was extraordinarily beautiful. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say, and yet the words left his lips nonetheless. “You can have it.”

God, he was a fool.

“The stone,” he clarified. “It’s yours—”

Marion wrapped her arms around him so quickly, the movement nearly toppled them both. As good as she felt so close to him, he pushed her away, not wanting her to misunderstand. “After the attack. I need it to carry out my orders. Then the stone is yours.”

She sank back down as he continued.

“You can stay at Camburg until it is over. And then you may take it back to Scotland.”

Scowling, as angry now as she had been happy a moment ago, she said, “Very well.”