“No trouble ’t all, lass.” She extends out a hand. “My name is Moregan.”
“It is great to meet you.”
“I’m Shana,” another woman with bright golden hair extends her hand as well.
And the third, a woman with hair the color of the sun, smiles at me. “Ashta.”
“What are you guys working on?”
“Oh, you know the men, always tearing holes in their trousers,” Moregan says with a laugh.
“Next time my husband does so, he’ll be on his own with the repairs,” Ashta jokes.
“You guys are all married?”
“Aye. Why else would we be sewing their trousers?” Shana questions, her light brow arching.
I chuckle. “I suppose you wouldn’t.”
“How are you feeling?” Moregan asks as she uses a blade to sever the thread in her hand.
“Okay.”
“Rafferty was in a right tizzy over ye this morning. Fin nearly had to knock him out to get him to leave.” Ashta laughs. “He is quite fond of ye.”
For whatever reason, her words hit me—painfully. He is fond of me, just as I am of him, but even with our affirmations last night, what happened next—the bond tearing me apart, the disease killing me—they are things that cannot be forgotten.
Not again.
I am going to die, and if he is this worried about me while I’m sick, what will my death do to him?
“What’s on your mind, lass?”
I glance up at Shana as she cocks her head to the side to study me. The move is quite inhuman—as if she moves faster than my eyes can process. “Nothing. Just tired,” I lie.
This entire time, I’ve been focused on what Rafferty could help me experience before I die, but I don’t know if I ever even considered what that death will do to him should we take the next steps.
Right now, aside from some stolen moments, we’ve managed to remain on separate sides of whatever is between us.
“Anything ye speak of in this circle stays private,” Shana tells me.
All the women nod in response. It’s been forever since I had other women to talk to—at least openly. Heather and Amber, sure, but even they were more focused on what was killing me rather than what I wanted to live for.
“I’m worried about what will happen to him once I die.”
Ashta and Moregan share looks. “Yer worried he will lose his control,” Ashta says, and I nod my confirmation. “Rafferty is—how do I put this delicately—a stubborn ass.”
Bea barks out a laugh and I smile.
“But ye will find no better man. Whatever happens, we have to believe he can keep his head about it,” Shana adds.
“It’s not worth the risk, though, right?” I question. “It can’t be worth the risk. I can’t even stand.” A tear slips down my cheek, and I wipe it away quickly. Though, based on the way they all set their projects down and focus on me, no one missed it.
“If what ye feel for him is strong enough, there is nothing that should stop ye for the time ye have left.” Moregan reaches over and rests a hand on my knee. “Ye deserve happiness for however long ye have, don’t ye?”
“You guys will be the ones dealing with the fallout, though, right? I mean, he can’t even look at me without the dark magic pulling at him. I see it in his eyes.”
“Do ye think it could be his control pushing him to the edge, though?” Ashta questions. “I’ve never seen my husband more relaxed than after we have sex.”