Slowly he rose, feeling his own body as a weight pulling him down. Almost unconsciously Rory reached down to brush fragments of glass from the knees of his jeans, wincing slightly when one needle-sharp shard slid into the heel of his hand. Plucking it out, he healed the tiny wound in seconds.

If only it could be that easy.

Both his hands clenched as he turned back to Pippa. Somehow, somehow, he had to reach her. Knowing she might well push him away, he stepped behind her and reached around to cover her hands with his.

"I couldn't leave you then. I won't leave you now," he whispered, bending his neck to rest his cheek on her hair. "You gave me the support I needed to reach for what I want. How can I not do the same for you?"

He tilted his head, trying to meet her eyes. "And you are strong enough to reclaim what you want, a muirnin. Maybe you can't believe me right now, but it's true."