Page 58 of Desecrated Reign

“I need some time to figure some things out. I’ve spoken to Lorcan, and he’s secured me a place within the Ulster Syndicate. I leave tomorrow.”

“Aodhán.” Her head tilts to the side as she looks at him with sympathy, sympathy he doesn’t deserve. “You don’t have to leave.”

“I do.” He bows his head again. “I have a few things I need to work through, and I can’t do that here. Not anymore.” Regret lingers in the air as he pushes to stand. “I truly am sorry, for everything. I just hope one day, not today or tomorrow or even this year, you will let me earn back your trust. But until then, I have to go find myself amongst the wreckage I created.”

He closes the distance between himself and Saoirse when she holds out her arms offering him a hug. “Take care of yourself, do you hear me?” She delivers it with the threat of a statement.

They separate after several long seconds and, without another word, he carries himself towards the door.

“Aodhán,” I call out as he walks away. “I hope he’s worth it, whoever he is.”

“Me too.” He offers a sad smile. “Oh”—he stops, his hand on the door handle as he peers back over his shoulder—“congratulations on the baby. I’m happy for you both.”

With that, he leaves, taking the remainder of our friendship with him.

EPILOGUE

SAOIRSE

ONE WEEK LATER - 4 JULY

I stand next to the window, eyes focused on the horizon as the sun begins its descent. Anxiety builds in the base of my throat, and I swallow it down, not allowing the nerves to take over. Even though today is a more intimate setting, somehow I feel far more nervous than I had last week.

Down on the pier, our families and close friends take their seats, and I scrub my hands down the front of my dress, needing to do something to calm my racing heartbeat. I hadn’t intended on wearing a traditional dress today, but last night, my mother handed me a box, and once I eased open the lid, the tears started to flow. It was the dress from the bridal shop, not the white one I’d originally chosen, but the one with the lilac underskirt—the one I really loved, but never even tried on because it wasn’t a traditional white gown. The second I stepped into it, I knew it was the one. I got that feeling everyone always talks about. The one dress that makes all the others I tried on fade into the background.

“Are you ready, doll?” Lorcan interrupts my thoughts. Flicking my gaze over my shoulder, my eyes latch onto his, and I nod. I take one last peek out the window, making sure it’s time. Satisfied with what I find, I turn on my heel and face my father. “As I’ll ever be.”

“You look stunning, baby girl.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

My shoulders rise as I draw in a calming breath. Then, linking my arms through his, we begin our walk, making our way down the front steps and towards the dock.

Head bent, my gaze locks on the ground as I make my way across the fresh bark Lorcan used to create a path toward the pier. One foot in front of the other, I focus on my breath, stifling the nervousness as it floats to the surface. As soon as my feet hit the first plank of the dock, the music begins. I raise my chin and I draw my eyes forward.

Standing patiently at the water’s edge is my future husband. He looks absolutely breath-taking in his tux, one hand covering the other, hanging loosely in front of him. His moss-coloured eyes hone in on me, and his lips curl into a soul-claiming smile. Everything about Rohan King steals my breath, from his messy black untamed hair to the tiny dimple that dents his left cheek. The closer I get to him, the more at ease I feel, as if his presence assuages every doubt in my mind.

As the song “Parachute” by Kyndal Inskeep builds, a montage of our relationship takes centre stage, playing like a technicolored movie titled Saoirse & Rohan’s Worst and Best Moments. Each snapshot led us to this very moment—the moment I get to marry the man I love.

I take the final step, and my dad hands me over to my future. With a manly backslapping hug, he greets Rohan. “Take care of my baby girl.” He steps back and gives me a chaste kiss on my cheek. “And you,” he adds, “take care of my boy.”

“I will.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows back his emotion, then he takes his seat next to my mam, who is already swiping tears from her eyes with a Kleenex.

Returning my gaze towards Rohan, I flash him a smile, and the rest of the guests fade away.

“We are gathered here today,” the celebrant starts, opening the ceremony, but I don’t hear a word of what she says next, too focused on the adoration beaming from Rohan’s eyes. He reaches for me, taking my hands in his.

Before I know it, she is calling upon us. “Rohan and Saoirse have prepared their own vows today. Rohan, would you like to go first?”

Acknowledging her with a tip of his chin, he reaches into the interior pocket of his tux jacket. He unfolds the paper, and after a brief glance, he brings his attention back to me. “Saoirse.” He pauses. “I once told you to only love a king when he deserved it, because that is when he’d need your love the most. Today, I stand before you hoping that I deserve the love you give me so effortlessly. Before you, my life was dull, colourless. I was surrounded by darkness without a sliver of light peeking through. The day you arrived in Killybegs was the day I caught a glimpse of the end of the tunnel, and every day after that, I chose to walk towards you—towards the light that only you provide.

“It took me a while to surrender, to leave the monsters in the dark, but once I did, you illuminated my world, bursting through the darkness in a kaleidoscope of vivid colour. As I stand here today, I vow to give you a love that burns so bright you will never fear the darkness. I vow to hold you at your weakest while reminding you that you are the strongest, most resilient person I know. And finally, I promise to always step back and let you have your sunsets, without conditions. Mo ghra. Mo chroí. Mo anam chara. Is leatsa mo chroí a shealbhú.” My love. My heart. My soulmate. My heart is yours to hold.

“Saoirse,” the celebrant encourages as I wipe the tears from my eyes. Once I gather myself, I turn towards Beibhinn, and she hands me the page with my handwritten vows with a misty look reflecting in her icy-blue eyes. With a deep breath, I bring my gaze back to Rohan. My eyes flick to the page, quickly scanning the opening sentence.

“Rohan, the very first moment we met, I knew you held the power to flip my world on its axis. The second time we crossed paths, I realised you already had. Falling for you wasn’t an option, it was inevitable. One look from those hypnotic eyes and any choice I thought I had was ripped away. You rolled into my path like a thunderstorm, unapologetic and unruly, and I knew no matter how hard I tried to escape the storm, I was lost to it forever. You have been my villain and my hero, my weakness and my strength, but above all else, you have been my king. Today I vow to always love you unconditionally, even on the darkest of days. I vow to give you the love you deserve, a love that is madness personified. I promise to always remind you that you deserve a love that paves the road to hell, and that I am ready to walk that road with you. My protector. My anchor. My timeless love.” I pause, hoping I don’t butcher this next sentence with my pronunciation. “Is pribhléid é grá a thabhairt duit. Is ealaín é tú a chaitheamh.” To love you is a privilege. To be consumed by you is an art.

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