Tides of deception ✺ Outlander/Stephen Bonnet Fanfic

♤12. The unraveling 🌶

The carriage rattled down the cobblestone streets, the wooden wheels creaking under the weight of the tension inside. Stephen sat stiffly, his fingers absently tracing the worn leather of his gloves, his jaw clenched. Across from him, Maria sat with her hands folded tightly in her lap, staring out the window but not really seeing anything beyond the glass. The simple dress she wore was elegant in its simplicity, yet it hadn't been what she imagined for this day-if she'd ever imagined it at all.

Their glances met briefly, eyes reflecting the confusion and stress of what was about to happen. There was a pull between them, a force neither could name, yet bound by something more than circumstance. Stephen shifted uncomfortably, the air in the carriage thick with unsaid words. He could feel his pulse quicken in ways he couldn't control, and it frustrated him. He had faced storms, battles, and betrayal-but nothing had made him feel more unsteady than the woman sitting before him.

Why did she have this power over him? The question echoed in his mind, gnawing at him. Stephen, the pirate captain who feared nothing, now sat vulnerable in front of a woman. Not because she was stronger, but because she was different. The thought made him want to retreat, to slip back into the safety of the emotional armor he always wore. Yet there was something else-a part of him that craved her closeness, even if it terrified him.

For her part, Maria's thoughts mirrored his, though her gaze remained fixed on the passing streets. She wasn't sure how she felt anymore. What started as fear, anger, and defiance had slowly turned into something far more complicated. The rush of his sudden proposal still left her spinning. She knew it was for her protection in this dangerous world, but there was an undeniable part of her wondering if this meant something more. Could she be falling for him, after everything? Or was this all some elaborate trick of the mind, the result of months spent in captivity, emotions confused and tangled?

She blinked, her reflection ghostly in the glass as her thoughts spiraled. Stockholm syndrome, she reminded herself, her fingers clenching the folds of her dress. But then there were moments, like when his hand brushed hers, when the air seemed to thicken between them. It felt real. Or was it?

The carriage slowed as the church came into view-St. Thomas Episcopal, a modest yet proud structure, its weathered stone walls standing firm against time. Stephen's chest tightened, and his breath became shallow as they neared. He stole a glance at Maria, her face illuminated by the dim light filtering through the window. Damn it, he thought, his throat dry. He didn't want to trap her-but he couldn't let her go, either.

When the carriage came to a stop, the coachman opened the door. Stephen hesitated before stepping out, taking Maria's hand to help her down. Her fingers trembled against his for a brief moment, though she quickly pulled them away, standing stiffly beside him. They exchanged a glance-her wide-eyed with uncertainty, his masked by the unreadable storm brewing in his mind.

They entered the church side by side, the heavy doors creaking open as they stepped into the quiet, almost sacred space. Inside, the age of the place seemed to whisper with history-the scent of incense mingled with the earthy smell of old wood and stone. Candles flickered along the altar, casting soft shadows. The priest stood waiting, his worn face giving away nothing of the solemn event that was about to take place.

Stephen could hear the echo of their footsteps on the stone floor, each step making his heart pound louder in his ears. His hand brushed against Maria's as they approached the altar, almost seeking reassurance, though he quickly pulled it back, flexing his fingers as if trying to regain control. His gaze locked on hers, but his expression remained unreadable, hiding the tumult of emotions churning inside him.

Maria's heart raced, each beat like thunder in her chest as they came to a stop before the altar. She glanced around the simple church, the old wood pews and stone walls suddenly feeling like the walls of a cage closing in on her. This was happening. There was no turning back now. Every step, every word, was tethering her to him in ways she couldn't have foreseen.