Page 88 of Sanctuary

“Good,” he murmured into my hair. “Because nothing short of terror would explain that note.” He drew back slightly, tipping my chin up so I was forced to meet his eyes. “Staying means everything to me, Mia.”

I nodded against him as if assuring myself as much as him. “Then I’m staying.” A small laugh escaped me—a mixture of relief and disbelief that it had taken Declan’s insight to make me see what Connor had been trying to tell me all along.

He kissed me then—deep and full of promise—before resting his forehead against mine with a long exhale that released some of the tension coiled inside him since finding my note.

“Now go get ready,” he said gently after a moment. “My wife can’t attend my swearing-in ceremony looking like she just survived an ambush.”

My breath caught at the words— it always did when he uttered them. The casual confidence with which he claimed me, the certainty in his voice that this is what we were.

“Is that so?” I teased, wiping my tears as I pulled away. “Because your wife was thinking of wearing jeans.”

He gave me a look that was both amused and exasperated, one that promised I’d never hear the end of this morning’s attempted escape. “Green dress,” he said firmly. “It matches my kilt.”

I laughed, the sound coming easier now. Lighter. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter 41

Mia

Hours later, I found myself seated in the front row of the auditorium. Kat and Wren were on my left, their excitement palpable, while Lily sat on my right, animatedly chatting about Ryker. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be long before they became a couple. Just as I was about to voice my suspicion, a sudden burst of lively music filled the room, echoing from the loudspeakers. The crowd’s attention shifted as Declan strode out onto the stage, trailed by Rory, Connor, and the O’Toole brothers. They were a striking sight, each clad in traditional Irish attire, their kilts swaying with each step.

A sharp nudge jolted me from my thoughts, and I turned to see Wren’s mischievous grin. Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “You know, they all go commando under those kilts, don’t you?” she teased, her voice low enough to avoid the notice of the surrounding audience.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, nodding in agreement. “You’ve mentioned that a time or two,” I replied, amused by her playful tone.

“Tell Lily,” Wren urged with a playful wink, clearly eager to share the fun.

Leaning closer to Lily, I whispered the tidbit in her ear. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, her eyes darting to the men on stage, now more curious than ever. “Nooo,” she breathed, her voice a hushed blend of disbelief and intrigue.

“Rumor has it,” I added with a conspiratorial whisper, “if you slink down in your chair enough, you might just catch a glimpse of skin.”

Lily’s cheeks flushed with color, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh. Her eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and delight at the prospect. “I might have to try that,” she said, her voice still low, as though we were sharing some great forbidden secret.

The music swelled again as Declan took center stage, motioning for silence. The room fell quiet, anticipation hanging in the air like electricity.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Declan began, his voice carrying the weight of history and the promise of the future. “Thank you for joining us on this important day.”

I watched Connor beside him, his posture relaxed yet commanding, the mantle of leadership settling over him as naturally as his kilt. Rory flanked him on one side, Ryker on the other—both men who had become more than allies through these past months. Family.

“For generations,” Declan continued, “the MacGallan Clan has upheld traditions that bind us to the past while forging a path into the future. Today marks one such occasion.”

Wren squeezed my hand, her excitement intense. I smiled at her, then at Kat and Lily, feeling truly part of this circle for perhaps the first time.

“It is my honor,” Declan said, turning to Connor, “to pass leadership of our clan to a man who embodies both strength and compassion. A man who will carry our legacy forward with integrity and vision.”

There was a ripple of applause as Connor stepped to the forefront. He looked out over the assembled crowd—his family, his clan—with an expression I couldn’t quite name but recognized deep in my soul. Determination and hope intertwined with love so fierce it left me breathless.

“My brother,” Declan said formally. “My successor. Our captain.” He placed an ancient-looking brooch—a symbol of office—at Connor’s shoulder before stepping back.

Connor looked over the room once more before he began to speak, his voice steady but full of emotion. “This is more than a title or responsibility,” he said simply. “It's a commitment to support each of you as you supported Declan and myself. Declan doesn’t want the title, and I can't do this on my own, nor do I intend to at least not without Declan and Wren. Kat and Rory, and especially my wife, Mia.” His gaze met mine amid the crowd, and I understood that those words were directed at me too —for all that we had endured together and all that lay ahead.

The applause was deafening now, boots stamping in rhythm like some tribal war dance celebrating life itself against impossible odds. Connor held up his hand for calm and continued. “From this day forward, all of the aforementioned will be Captain’s of the MacGallan Clan.”

I joined in wholeheartedly—cheering louder than any other soul there—as my husband accepted what had once seemed impossible: A new beginning free from shadows I thought would haunt us forever; A future bright enough to banish even memory’s darkest corners.

As they left the stage amid whistles and cheers (Royal’s voice loudest among them), Wren leaned over conspiratorially once more: “Think we’ll see kilts disappear tonight when drinking begins?”

“Not if I can help it,” Kat declared with mock severity from her end seat where she’d been watching Rory.

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