I nod. Of course I will. I’m pleased he cares, and even more pleased he’s planning on taking me with him. We’re in danger, and the weight of everything falls heavily on my shoulders, but my heart is light, and I’m filled with giddy anticipation.
He loves me.
I’m his.
I think back at how I resisted being a claimed woman of the Clan. Now I’m thrilled to be his. My heart sings. We’re a team, the two of us, a beautiful synchronicity of two hearts joined as one.
I blink, bringing myself back to the present.
“Report back, Tully, immediately.”
“Absolutely.”
Caitlin joins Keenan, and the men exit the room, but Tully and I go ahead of them. He trots up the stairs two at a time, and although I’m much slower, I go as fast as I’m able.
On the landing, he grasps my hand and tugs me over to him. “I just wanted you alone, love,” he whispers in my ear. That gives me a little tingle.
“Tully!” I hiss. “We need to get going, though. We can’t be fooling around when the Clan is depending on us.”
He grins and gives my arse a swift, teasing smack.
“I love that about you, McKenna. Fucking love that.”
“What?”
“That it matters to you that the Clan is depending on us. That you’re loyal to my brotherhood.”
I nod. “Of course I am.” Just as my love for him… how could I not?
“I can’t tell you what this means to me, pretty lass.”
Pretty lass. Squeeeee.
I smile shyly to myself. I underestimated his reaction. I didn’t know how he valued my allegiance to the Clan, but I suppose it makes sense as well, because this is his family. These men are his brothers. If I love them, I love him.
We head to the door. It’s eerie seeing this massive mansion under darkness.
“This is odd,” Tully mutters. “We have multiple generators for if we lose power. They should’ve come on by now.”
I nod. “Agreed.”
“Has someone cut the power, then, Tully?”
“Seems like it,” he says, frowning. He reaches for the vest at his waist and removes a gun. Then to my shock, he hands me a knife.
“Sharp as fuck,” he warns, scowling at me. “You only use that if absolutely necessary, understand?”
I nod.
“I fucking mean it, McKenna.”
I nod soberly. “Tully, I know.”
He finally nods, still scowling.
We pause in the large entryway to the mansion. Waiting. Listening.
“I don’t hear anything,” he whispers. “Do you?”
I listen but shake my head. “Nothing.”
Of all we’ve been through, this feels like the most important. The safety of the Clan rests on our shoulders. We don’t know what dangers we face, if someone will attack or hurt us. But we face it together. The very fact he’s given me his knife to hold, to use to defend myself, means something to me.
He pushes open the door, and we peer into the darkness. A brisk, biting wind blows straight through me.
“Bloody hell,” he mutters. “It’s fucking cold.” He shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it over my shoulders. It’s warm and smells like him, and a little thrill of pleasure trills through me again. Wow, I am so over my head in love. Is this what love is like?
He loves me.
“You’ll freeze your own arse off,” I protest weakly. I don’t want to give up his coat.
He only grunts in response.
We walk down the stairs, lit only by moonlight overhead. He’s scowling at the cold and wind, as if our enemies are hiding in the shadows. And bloody hell, they probably are.
We walk across Maeve’s garden, cast into shadow with the dark, the trellis projecting a tomb-like shadow on the ground. We follow our moonlit path to the front gate. He reaches for my hand, his voice gruff when he speaks.
“I love you, McKenna.” It surprises me that now, of all times, he wants to tell me he loves me again.
“And I love you,” I tell him with feeling, squeezing his hands. “Let’s find these motherfuckers and put an end to this so we can live in peace and tranquility.”
He laughs out loud, his deep chuckle warming me through. “You’re a naughty little girl using words like that, aren’t you?”
I smile at him, though he can’t see me. “Oh, I learned from the best.”
Loud voices rise and fall by the gated entrance to the mansion. I squint into the darkness and can barely make out a uniformed officer at the gate.
“You’ll bloody regret this,” he’s saying. I peer out into the darkness and realize he isn’t alone. Not at all. Dozens and dozens of people surround him. None of them look like the ruthless men of the Clan, and certainly not our enemies.
“Who are they, Tully?”
“Don’t know,” he mutters. The wind howls, but he marches on, unhindered by the bitter cold. A guard sits at the gate, scowling at the mob of people in front of him.