[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]
Sometimes he could still hear their call when he slept. He wondered if it was the same for Seamus, though his association with the Wild Hunt had been longer—and more recent—than Ciar mac Dúbhshláin’s had been. Matt exhaled a silent sigh and leaned his shoulder into Hecate’s. She leaned against him in return, glancing up, studying the planes and angles of his face.
“What’s the matter?” she whispered, fingers squeezing.
“Just thinking,” he murmured, voice hopefully low enough that his sister wouldn’t overhear.
“Thinking,” Hecate echoed softly, easing a little closer. Matt dipped his head to rest his chin against her hair. “You have that look on your face.”
He took a slow, deep breath, eyes sliding shut for a moment. I know what look she’s talking about. Is it a bad thing that it doesn’t make my stomach flip anymore? “Thinking about long ago and far away,” he said softly. “That’s all.”
She squeezed his hand again. “Should we take a walk? It’s going to take them a little time to get to what we’ll need anyway.”
“That might be good,” he said.
She nodded and when he opened his eyes, he saw her smiling up at him. There was warmth and sympathy in her eyes, almost but not quite masking old pain. Matt slid his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.
“I chose you,” he whispered. “Don’t forget that.”
“We chose each other,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist and gently tugging him away from where they’d stood. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“So would I,” he said softly as they headed for an old path behind the ruined dormitories, along the edge of the ravine. “Without a second thought or a single regret. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”