A/N: Hello everyone, Happy Monday. I am sorry about the wait for the chapter, work is keeping me busy. Good news is I'll be on vacation soon which means more time to upload chapters. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter and I hopefully will be uploading another one soon.

Chapter 46: A Phantom's Secret

Love? Did she say she loves him? Aye, she did and those words kept playing over and over in his head. The sound of her voice screaming those words, like announcing to the world that she loves him. He had never heard those words spoken to him before, at least not from a non-relative. Now laying in the bed, his head turned to glance down at the woman lying next to him. Her nude body laid against him, her arm laying over his chest. Using his chest as a pillow, she could hear his heartbeat. Beautiful…beautiful angel…he thought as his finger pushed a strand off of her face. Erik knew he should have regretted everything, but he didn't. He didn't regret their first kiss, the first time he made her cum, their first dance, the first time he made love to her…he regretted none of that. Hell, he didn't care if she was English anymore. That no long mattered to him, all that mattered to him was her. He didn't even care about the war anymore. God, what is happening to me?

By sunrise, Erik was already awake. He didn't sleep much through the night, his thoughts preventing him for getting any sleep unlike the sleeping beauty next to him. Her hair spread all over the pillow; the blanket stopping around her waist, giving him a view of her breasts as they rise and fall with each breath. Her lips tempting him for a kiss, however he wanted to let her rest. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on her cheek, whispering something in Gaelic to her. Quietly and slowly, he slipped out of the bed. Trying to be careful not to wake her, he dressed before slipping out of the tent.

"Ah there is the sleeping beauty." He heard MacGregor's voice, making him roll his eyes.

"Sod off."

"Chief wants to speak to you."

"I'm sure he does." Sighing, he headed towards Tor's tent. Walking to his tent, he prepared himself for whatever Tor was going to say to him. He knew he would be getting a yelling and who knows what the punishment would be, especially if Tor finds out what he did last night. He knew no one would approve of this, but he couldn't take it back and he wouldn't take it back.

My angel…her heart soared when he called her that again. She was his angel again and she knew that she would always would be his angel; that nothing would change that. And that thought kept a smile on her face all night…and the memory of his touch. The image of their bodies tangled together causes the aching feeling to return. Turning over, she expected to feel him still there. However, she felt nothing but the empty space where he laid. Fluttering her eyes opened, she realizes that she was alone. Looking around the room, she noticed that he wasn't there. Perhaps he went to morning meal…or speak with Tor. She remember the tone of his voice last night and for a moment, feared for Erik. Deciding it was one of those two, she grabbed the sheets to wrap around her naked body before climbing out of bed. Winching at the soreness she now felt, she tried not to move as much. She didn't realize she would be sore after a night of love making, however she didn't mind. Seeing her chemise on the floor, she grabbed it and put it on her. She quickly made the bed so no one would see the evidence of what they did last night. Hearing her stomach growl, food was calling her. Walking around the bed to the trunk, she remembered a few plaids in there that she could use to wear.

"Let us see what he has…" She said to herself as she opened the trunk. Right away, she saw the plaids. Grabbing two with colors that she liked, she set them down to close the trunk. Just before closing it, she noticed something. Something buried deep into the trunk.

Reaching in to move a few things, she noticed it was a shield with a lion on it. That is strange…Underneath the shield was an armor, black as night. Holding up the heavy black helm, she noticed how it mostly covered it's owner's face. Running her fingers along the cold metal, she could tell it was used a lot. Why would Erik have this? Letting her curiosity get the better of her, she continued to look through the trunk. Under the armor were some masks, black masks. Searching more, she found a sword. Holding the weapon, her eyes noticed some words carved into the sword. Looking closer, she could make out the words 'Bàs roimh Gèil'.

"Death before surrender…" She had heard that phrase many times…it was the Highland Phantoms' motto. "Why would Erik have this sword?" She asked herself as her mind started to recall certain things. Slowly, she was putting the pieces together. Their nicknames…their fighting skills…the way they keep things private… "Could Erik be a-a…?" She couldn't finish the sentence, almost not wanting to believe it. She didn't want to believe that the man she loves is part of the famous group of warriors that are feared throughout all of Scotland and England. However, all signs were pointing to that conclusion. There was only one way to find out…ask him. Though she knew he might not tell her, she had to try.

Flipping the sword over to put it back, she noticed a piece of paper at the bottom of the trunk. Reaching in and grabbing it, she opened it. Though it was in Gaelic, she recognized two names: Erik 'Phantom' Boyd…and King Bruce. That was the proof she needed; Erik was part of Bruce's Phantoms.

"Oh god…" She was in love with a Phantom.

"Christine?" The sound of her name being call made her jump, dropping the sword on her lap. Turning to face the voice, she spotted Erik at the tent entrance.

"Is it true?" She asked. He could hear the fear in her voice. Slowly she rose to her feet, still holding his sword. Glancing to the pile of things around her feet, he knew she now knew. "Are you a-a…?" Please God, don't let it be true…

"Yes, it's true."

"Oh god…" Putting her hands to her mouth, she slowly backed away from him. He was a Phantom, a high ranking Phantom too from what she remembered by the dance they shared days ago. "I can't believe this…" She started pacing the tent while Erik remained where he was. "It all makes sense now." He didn't know if she was talking to herself or to him or both. "The way you guys fight…" She remembered their attack on the English camp as well as his attack on the English castle. She stopped and looked at him, practically his mask. "Is that why you wear a mask?" He stilled at the question about his mask. That was a question he always hated getting asked. His mask was personal, too personal.

"No…" He answered dryly and Christine knew she was crossing a line, but she didn't care. She wanted to know more about him, more about the man she loved and gave everything to.

"Why do you wear it then?" She asked him. "If it's not part of being a Phantom, why then?" He was quiet for a moment, debating whether or not she could know the real reason. It was something he rarely talked about, especially with a lass. However something inside him made him want to tell her, let her know secrets that not many people knew and this was one of them. After all, she already knew he was a Phantom.

"This mask…I wear it because I have to. It's not for hiding my identity but for hiding something else."

"What else could you possibly hide?" She asked. Sighing, he walked up to her until he was standing in front of her.

"Scars…memories of what your father did to me." He answered. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to figure out what he meant. Reaching up, her hand gently held the edge of mask as she pulled it off of his face. His whole body froze as he felt the mask slowly removed from his face; waiting for her reaction. He kept his eyes closed, too afraid to see her reaction. When he heard her gasp, his heart ripped.

Her hands flew to her mouth as she backed away from him, dropping the mask to the floor. His eyes opened to see the horror in her eyes. Seeing her like this was killing him.

"Oh my god…" She distanced herself from him, basically standing at the other end of the tent. Defeated and hurt, he bend down and picked up his mask. Unable to speak, he placed the mask on before leaving the tent. Just before leaving, he glanced one last time at her. The shock and horror still on her face, making him look away and leave. Now left alone in the tent, she fell to the floor. "God that face…" She placed a hand over her cheek. "So distorted, deformed…" How did he get that face? She remembered him saying that his face was a result of what her father did to him. What did my father do?

As he practically ran from the tent, his mind was trying to forget about her face as she saw his face. But that image couldn't be erased no matter how much he tried. He was trying to ignore the pain in his heart. He wanted her to accept his secrets, he didn't know why but he did. Her rejection was more painful than any battle wound he had ever receive. What is happening to me? He knew he cared for her, but this was different. He felt something different for Christine than any other woman, but he didn't know what. Could it be love? Shaking his head, he pushed that out of his mind. He couldn't love her, he shouldn't love her. Their worlds were different; their story had no happy ending.

"I can't love her…I can't love her…"

"Who can't you love?" He jumped when he saw Meg. "Erik, what's wrong?" She knew something was wrong. "Is Christine alright?"

"She knows." Meg's eyes widen. "She knows everything…" His voice choked. Not wanting to speak anymore, he continued his walk to…anyway really. He just needed to be alone and away from her. He needed to try and forget her. Forget how wonderful she felt in his arms, the feeling of her skin against his, the way she said his name…the fact that she loves him. He shook his head; she wouldn't love him anymore. And for some reason, that tore his heart in two.

All day he had stayed hidden and by himself in a tent or in the woods. He wanted to be alone and away from everyone, especially her. He didn't dare go back to his tent now, afraid she would be there. Now nightfall had come and he was laying in the small tent, alone with only his thoughts. His mask was on the small table next to the bed while the covers shielded his body from the waist down. He tried sleeping but no sleep was coming to him. After one night with Christine in his arms, he would never sleep as good as he did last night. Turning onto his side, he tried to not think of her. Closing his eyes, he tried again to sleep. His ears picked up the sound of the tent flap opening. Turning to see who was coming in, he was surprised to see Christine coming in. He noticed she was only wearing her chemise and a plaid around her.

"Christine?" He sat up. "What are you doing here?" He asked her as she walked over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking at him, her eyes could see the deformity of his face.

"Tell me…" He frowned. "Tell me how this happened to you." She said more clearly. His body stiffened, but he knew she should know.

"It was after you helped me escape, a few years afterwards. Your father sent a message that he wanted a meeting with me and Tor to discuss the war. We were hesitant but Bruce insisted that we go. We agreed and went to the village that he said to come to, promising us immunity and no capture. When we got there, we were ambushed. The men who were with us were killed. There were too many for us to handle and…" He paused as he recalled everything. "At one point, we were knocked out. When I woke, we were in some small house. The smell of smoke was everywhere, they were burning the house with us inside." Her hand covered her mouth, horrified by this. How could my countrymen do this? "We managed to to escape before the house was engulfed, but…"

"You were burned." He nodded.

"A beam fell and the flames hit my face. I already had deep cuts on my cheek from the attack."

"How did you survive?" She asked him.

"I'm not sure, but I did." She nodded. "Now you know everything." She nodded again. Reaching up, her hand softly rested against his scarred cheek. He tensed slightly but soon relaxed in her hand.

"I am sorry this happened to you." Her voice was soft and full of sadness. "You didn't deserve this."

"It's in the past, Christine. I cannot do anything about it, only move and focus on the future." Nodding, her hand dropped from his cheek. "Do you hate me now?"

"I could never hate you." She replied, making his heart soar. "You have my heart, Erik." Smiling, he lean in and softly kisses her lips. Her lips responded to his as she shifted so she was straddling him. Their bodies soon become one again as Erik made love to the woman that loved him…and who he loved too, but would he admit it before it's too late?

Will Erik be too late to tell Christine before she leaves? Find out soon...

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