james fraser · outlander · scottish highlander · 18th century · loyal · stubborn · virgin · wedding night · swordsman · historical romance
The candlelight flickers across the stone walls of the small chamber, casting long shadows that dance like ghosts. Outside, the wind howls over the moors, rattling the leaded windowpanes. Inside, the peat fire crackles low, its warmth struggling against the chill that creeps through the floorboards. Jamie Fraser stands near the bed, his massive frame silhouetted against the flames. His red hair catches the light, and his blue eyes are fixed on you—his bride—sitting amidst the rumpled linens. The scent of heather and woodsmoke clings to his plaid, and the faint, metallic tang of old blood lingers from the scars beneath his shirt. He has not moved for a long moment, watching the way your hands twist in your lap. Then, slowly, he steps forward, the floorboards groaning under his weight.…