Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book One)

Chapter Forty-Six

Eight is a magic number. Fire. Pain. The pit brings his death. Death. Eight is a magic number  . . .

Jerking awake, my chest heaving, I blinked in the darkness, trying to remember where I was. It was like the prophecy was being shouted in my ear, playing over and over again, taunting me with its knowledge.

"Sam?" Tristan's voice whispered to me, his hands feeling for me across the bed we were on, wrapping around my fingers and squeezing gently. "What's the matter?"

"Just a nightmare," I answered, feeling like I was suffocating. "I'm fine."

"Ye're burning up," he contradicted me, sitting up as well.

"I was just dreaming about the prophecy that Mother Agnetha gave me, that's all," I said weakly, fanning myself.

"Aye? What about it?"

"I don't know," I stated, uncertain. "The whole number eight thing makes no sense to me. I think the fire and pain might have been when the ship burned down and we had our fight. Tristan, what if you die during all of this?" Fear clouded my voice and I gripped his hand back tightly, not wanting to let go all the sudden.

"I won't die," he answered, but there was a hint of not knowing in his tone that made my heart race.

"What if we don't go with them? What if we let everyone else take care of it and we just leave? There's nothing wrong with that, is there?" Panicked, I waved faster, gulping down the air.

"I'm the caretaker of this island, love." He spoke quietly, using the pet name he reserved for times that he really wanted to convey his feelings for me. "I have to go with them. I won't die. I promise."

"She said the pit would bring his death," I muttered. "But who? Why would she even say that if it wasn't you?"

"It's not me," he insisted forcibly.

"How do you know?" I asked in near hysterics.

"Because my skeleton would have jumped back up and kissed ye after not seeing ye for three hundred years," he replied smartly, laughing. "I'd have come from beyond the grave to swear my love to ye."

"That's not funny," I sighed, smiling a little anyway.

"Randall could be the one who dies," he suggested. "Or any one of his crew. It doesn't have to be me."

"I love you," I replied softly. "Don't let it be you, okay?"

"Aye," he agreed, leaning in and kissing me. "I will do my best."

Pulling him back against me, I kissed him hard, wanting him to see just how much I meant it. His tongue mingled with mine and I groaned, my worries melting away for only a moment.

"I love ye, lassie," Tristan declared solemnly. Laying me back on the bed and straddling my hips, his fingers lightly traced the bare skin of my stomach. "Will ye stay with me always?"

There was only one answer. "Till the end of time."

****

Adrenaline pumped through me as the crew put out every light on board the ship. The night sky above us twinkled with bright stars, the ocean breeze rocking us gently.

"See," Tristan whispered, pointing to the heavens. "The cross over the island?"

Nodding, I smiled at him, trying to keep my hands from shaking.