Chapter 42

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Flashing golden-orange rays of sunlight danced across the rippling waters of the loch. Just like that, it was over. Two days without any sign of Nickolas. Two days of horrible, terrible waiting, and it was all for nothing.

Cassandra remembered that last morning they'd spent together. After the day in the village, Nickolas had taken her back up to the cabin where they could be alone. She'd woken in his arms, a perfect, brief moment of heaven before it was time for him to leave.

"If I'm not back in two days, you have to forget all this, Cassandra. You have to go back home and pretend none of this ever happened. You can't wait for a dead man forever."

She could still hear his voice telling her that. He hadn't understood, though. How was she supposed to forget? How could she just move on? This had been the greatest adventure of her life. He had been her greatest adventure.

She couldn't believe how quickly time had passed, how suddenly everything had changed. Instead of slow, agonizing anticipation, the time had flown away all too quickly, and now, the sun was setting on all her hopes and dreams.

The weather had turned cold the day he left, reminding her that winter was fast approaching. How long had she been gone? It seemed like a lifetime since she'd left Fergus Manor to chase down Nickolas that day.

How could something that had happened over such a long period of time come to such an abrupt end? It left her feeling empty and coldly expectant. It was like coming to the edge of a cliff that you thought was a towering mountain with another side to climb.

Seamus had lit a fire outside the house as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, and a few of the villagers had gathered to fry fish and tell stories. Cassandra knew it was partially for her benefit. They were trying to distract her, but even Seamus's stores of his youthful pirate days were lost on her now.

Her eyes were glued on the slowly sinking sun, and her ears were tuned to the growing darkness beyond the fire's light, listening for any sound, any sign that Nickolas was coming home to her. There was only the whistle of the wind of the hum of chatter, however. Where could he be?

She'd caught several people giving her pitying looks. They all thought he wasn't coming back, but they were wrong. They had to be. He had to come. He'd promised.

Immediately, her mind went beyond the circle. Her imagination showed her images of him, trapped and bleeding, trying to get to her but not being able to. Wherever he was, he needed her.

She drew a deep, shaking breath and stood up abruptly. The quiet talk died, and she felt quizzical glances thrown her direction. She didn't look at them. She wasn't sure of her composure at the moment, and she had no desire to burst into tears in their company. There was only one place she truly felt safe doing that, and the thought of being in Nickolas's arms again nearly choked her.

"I need fresh air." She mumbled.

Without further explanation, she moved away from the fire. She'd forgotten the chill in the air, and as she walked, she hugged her arms about herself. The quiet lapping of the water on the shore seemed to whisper words of comfort, but she had no ears to hear it.

The turmoil in her soul was almost stifling. She stopped walking, inhaling in quick, short breaths to keep the panic from claiming her entirely. Her eyes searched the growing darkness of their own accord, watching, waiting for the familiar figure to materialize out of the shadows.

Her eyes glazed over: no one was there. Waves of smoke from the fires washed over the sand, but the beach was empty. He hadn't come. He was gone. Tears flooded her vision, further impairing her vision.

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