"Blood of my blood," he murmured into the wind, "and bone of my bone."
He stood, wrapped his plaid tight against the Highland chill, and looked toward the horizon. He couldn't go to her, but he knew now that the very earth beneath his feet was keeping the door open. Outlander - Blood of...
Local legends spoke of the Fuil nan Creagan —the Blood of the Crags. They said that when the moon hung like a silver sickle, the stones would weep a dark, viscous sap. But Jamie, kneeling in the damp heather, saw it for what it truly was: a tear in the fabric of time that was physically hemorrhaging. "Blood of my blood," he murmured into the
As he pressed his palm against the central monolith, the air grew thick with the scent of ozone and gorse. Usually, the stones screamed with the sound of a thousand bees, but tonight, they whispered. They whispered a name: Brian. They said that when the moon hung like