After Rae Campbell is murdered by her abductor, she wakes in a world that exists parallel to ours- one which diverged in 1761, when a band of Scottish Highlanders joined with the Skin-Walking Kituwah tribe to oust the British from Appalachia.
Rae b...
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I am beginning to get used to having a different view every time I open my eyes.
This time, it is to a bright beam of sunshine.
My breath catches in my throat at the realization, and I scramble out of bed. I rush to the window the sunlight is beaming through, press my hands against the panes of glass- cool from the weather- and stare out at the bright, blue expanse of sky.
Puffy white clouds roll over the horizon, shading a vast green field from the Autumn sunshine. Sheep leisurely graze, their coats of wool keeping them warm from the October chill I feel pressing into my hands. Beyond the field, hazy blue mountains rise to kiss the sky.
I haven't seen the sun since I was taken.
"Would you like to go for a walk?"
I spin around to the source of the voice, and see the tall, crazy man from last night standing in the doorway, a slight smile playing over his full lips, a hand tucked into the waistband of his jeans.
"Uku," I say, remembering the voices from yesterday.
His smile widens. "Why are you calling me that?"
I frown. "It's your name," I say, and he chuckles. "Isn't it?" I ask, and he shakes his head.
"Uku is a title- a term of respect. My name is Calum."
"Calum," I repeat, and his smile widens. If it weren't for the fact that half of his hair is captured in a series of braids tied with an eagle feather at their end, he would look completely normal, in this moment.
As it is, the hairstyle serves as a reminder that he believes we are living in a fantasy world where Native Americans and Scotsman joined together to oust the British from their lands, and prevented North Carolina from becoming part of America.
"About that walk?" He asks, and I lick my lips and stare longingly at the seemingly endless expanse of sun-kissed earth outside the window.
"I'm allowed to go outside?"
He makes a guttural noise at the back of his throat. "You're not a prisoner," he returns, and I wrench my gaze away from the view to glance back at him.
"Aren't I?" I reply, softly, and he makes another one of those noises and shakes his head.
"Rae, If I were able to bring you back to your world, I would. But it is not possible. And you will not survive life here, in this world, unless you learn how to navigate it."
He fully enters the room, crosses to me, and rests his hands against my shoulders. When my muscles jerk beneath his touch, he quickly removes them. Still, he remains, too close. His eyes bore into mine. He does a very good job of looking sincere.
"I hope, when that time comes, you will accept me as your mate. But if you do not, I will gladly take you to live anywhere you wish- even if it is England, or France, or America."
