…Every minute takes me closer to being hers, and her being mine, forever.
Callum and Hamish take the glasses, the three of us raising them high before taking a long, heavy drink.
“So, how bad is it?”
Callum scowls. “Angering Lord Carlson like that? Stealing his boat and his pretty young bride?” He shakes his head, taking another drink. “It wasn’t your smartest move.”
“Though certainly not your dumbest,” Hamish mutters.
I glare at him and he grins as he nods at Callum, who chuckles right back.
“The camel?”
Hamish laughs deeply. “Aye, the camel.”
I set my brow as I pour another splash of whiskey. “That fucking camel,” I mutter. Fight for years in a Holy war in a foreign land side-by-side with your friends, and it’s just part of life. Try and get one damn camel to run faster, and they never let you forget it.
I clear my throat.
“Will there be war?”
Callum smirks, crossing his big arms over his broad chest as he sets his swarthy jaw at me.
“Would that have stopped you?”
“No.”
He grins. “Well, there you have it. But come what may, you’ve got us at your side.”
There’s a knock at my chamber door, and one of my attendants enters, nodding curtly.
I smile broadly, setting my glass down.
“It’s time.”
Hamish grins at me, coming over to firmly shake my hand.
“I’m proud of you, my friend.”
“Aye, and so am I,” Callum growls, coming over to shake my hand as well. “Now shall we get you married?”
In the chapel, I wait by the priest at the altar, Callum and Hamish behind me. Across from where I stand, on the priest’s other side, stands Hamish’s new bride Una, and her and Ailith’s friends, Rhona and Catriona. I take a breath, feeling my blood running hot as I nod for the ceremony to begin.
It’s time.
I knew I’d be here, standing at this altar, waiting for her to walk to me, since the moment I laid eyes on her. And now, it’s finally come to pass. Hamish slaps my shoulder and I turn, nodding.
“Thank you, my friends,” I mutter quietly. “For being here.”
“I’m disappointed at the lack of camel, but, you’re welcome.”
I roll my eyes as Hamish chuckles, frowning slightly as he reaches over and fixes my formal sash. My eyes drift past him to Callum, and I frown. Hamish sees my look, glancing at Callum too before we both turn and follow his gaze.
Oh, now that’s interesting.
Weeks before, at Hamish’s wedding when the infamously savage Viking marauder Tor Odinson tried to attack his castle, Callum was wounded fighting them off. After which, he was treated—at length—by none other than Ailith, Una, and Rhona’s friend Catriona, who’s trained as a nurse.
Now, normally, I wouldn’t bat an eye except to know that our friend was okay. After all, Hamish and Callum and I had been hurt plenty of times in the Crusades, and we’d been treated by countless nurses.
…None of those nurses were young, beautiful, famously “headstrong” and “difficult,” and very much unmarried and unbetrothed, as Catriona McDougall is. None of those nurses ever had my friend staring—his eyes full of heat and need.
And then of course, there’s the fact that I fought alongside Callum for almost the entire attack back at Dungow Castle. In fact, I was there when he got his “wound.”
…’Twas a scratch.
I’d seen Callum truly injured in battle, and even then, the stubborn ass had to be forced to go see a surgeon or a nurse, sometimes under threat of more harm from Hamish and I. I’d seen him charge into battle with one arm in a sling and blood still seeping through his bandages. But the attack at Hamish’s wedding? ’Twas nothing, and the “wound” he received was barely a nick
Very quickly, I see what’s going on here.
“Callum,” I mutter. He ignores me, the fire in his eyes blazing as he stares at Catriona. Hamish elbows him sharply, and he blinks, snapping out of his trance to turn to us with a scowl on his face.
“What,” he hisses.
“Have you memorized her face yet?”
His eyes narrow at me. “What? Who?”
“My lady’s bridesmaid,” mutter thinly. “You’re staring, my friend.”
Callum scowls right back. “And?”
“And it’s unbecoming.”
Hamish snorts, and Callum fixes me with a hard look, though I see the corners of his mouth turn up slightly.
“Unbecoming?”
I shrug.
“Malcolm,” he growls.
“What.”
“You just stole a boat, along with another man’s bride, from his very wedding.”
I grin. “And?”
Callum arches a brow. “And from the very bottom of my heart,” he leans close. “Fuck off.”
The three of us chuckle as the doors to the chapel open, and suddenly, I’m not laughing anymore. Because suddenly I turn, and there she is.
My Ailith.
My vision in pure white beauty, floating down the aisle towards me. Her emerald green eyes meet mine, and I’m lost in them as she steps up to the altar, faces me, and takes my hand. Our eyes lock, and I know we’re already saying I do before the priest can even start his words.