Page 2 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
The dim light of her quarters cast long, comforting shadows on the walls as Edin methodically sorted through her collection of vials. Each glass container held a carefully crafted mixture, labeled with her meticulous handwriting. The faint scent of crushed herbs and bitter compounds lingered in the air. Her hands moved with the efficiency of years spent perfecting her craft, ensuring every stopper was sealed tight, every label secured.
She reached for a vial containing a pale green liquid, her fingers brushing the smooth surface. “Antidote for nightshade poisoning,” she murmured under her breath, placing it gently in the satchel laid open on her cot. Next came a small bottle of silvery powder — a potent sedative that had proven invaluable in the past. She packed it alongside a collection of dried herbs wrapped in wax paper, her thoughts wandering as she worked.
She thought over what she had just experienced. Edin was well aware of the Lennox family’s deep ties to the Triad. Whatunsettled her was how much influence a single family could wield over an organization of such power. It felt wrong, a contradiction of everything the Triad was supposed to represent. Wealth and privilege shouldn’t dictate priorities, no matter how generous donations might be. Of course, her opinion didn’t matter, but when measured against the broader needs of society, catering to a wealthy family seemed like the least worthy of causes.
This made the mission feel different — heavier. The thought of accompanying Finley Lennox unsettled her. A future laird, accustomed to command, the kind of man who would see her as a tool. Her independence was one of her greatest strengths, and yet there she was, about to be saddled with a partner who could jeopardize her effectiveness. But there was no way around it.
Her fingers tightened briefly around the vial before she tucked it into her bag. She couldn’t let her irritation cloud her judgment. The mission didn’t leave much space for personal preferences — it was simply about results.
She reached for her small notebook, its pages filled with sketches of plants and their properties, formulas for tinctures, and notes from previous assignments. Slipping it into an inner pocket, she drew a deep breath. The leather-bound book was one of the few things that she could truly call hers — she had written it page by page — and everything she knew was inside those pages.
As she resumed packing, the scene replayed in her mind. The Favored’s explanation of the mission echoed in her thoughts — Davina Lennox, stolen months ago. The thought struck a nerveand she couldn’t stop thinking about the irony of it all. It was cruelly fitting. She, a girl who had once been taken, was now tasked with finding another lost girl.
Her hand hovered, trembling slightly, over a bundle of dried wolfsbane, questions she had worked tirelessly to suppress threatening to break the surface. The family she’d been stolen from remained a void in her mind, faceless and unreachable. All she’d known since then was the calculated efficiency of the Triad, who had rescued her, shaped her, and made her indispensable. They had given her a purpose — one she had clung to because it was all she had.
She knew all too well what it was like to be lost, to belong to no one. Despite her opinion on Davina’s family, finding her wasn’t simply a task; it was a chance to prevent another from suffering the same fate she herself had endured her entire life.
“Focus,” she muttered, her voice sharp. She shook off the thought and secured the wolfsbane alongside the other vials. This wasn’t the time to dwell on the past. Her mission was clear: find Davina Lennox and bring her home.
She picked up her dagger, its blade gleaming faintly in the dim light. Slipping it into its sheath at her hip, she considered the challenge ahead. The Highlands were a treacherous place, and the task of navigating them with Finley Lennox was daunting. She would need to be at her sharpest, her most prepared.
Her thoughts turned briefly to Finley. She had seen him once before, from a distance, during one of the rare times she hadbeen sent to deliver a message to the Lennox family. He had carried himself with an air of authority, his broad shoulders and commanding presence making him hard to ignore. He was a man used to control, and she suspected he would not take kindly to sharing it.
“He’ll need to learn,” she said under her breath. She wouldn’t tolerate unnecessary interference. Her satchel now packed, she fastened it tightly and slung it over her shoulder.
Edin stepped to the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her sharp gray eyes were distant and unreadable, even to her. The face staring back at her, framed by the black braid she had tied with precision earlier, bore no trace of fear, no flicker of doubt, but the stillness in her expression felt heavier today. She adjusted her cloak, the worn fabric rough against her fingers, pulling it tighter around her shoulders.
Her gaze flickered across the room; a bare cot, a battered wooden chest, and the single lantern casting its feeble glow on the cold stone walls. It was a sparse existence, one she had grown accustomed to, yet in its emptiness, it held a strange sense of security.
She lingered for a moment, letting the stillness settle in her chest, before drawing a deep, steadying breath. Stepping out meant leaving that comfort behind and walking into the unknown. But she had survived worse and she would survive this, too.
Her boots struck soft echoes on the stone floor as she moved through the labyrinthine corridors. The air was cool, carrying the faint, earthy scent of moss and damp stone that clung to the crypt-like depths of the Triad’s headquarters. She ran her fingers along the rough-hewn wall as she walked, grounding herself in its familiar texture.
By the time she arrived at the stables, the last light of the day was visible on the horizon, painting the sky in soft strokes of orange and pink. She paused for a moment, her gaze sweeping across the wide expanse before her, soaking in the quiet stillness of the morning.
Edin tightened the strap of her satchel and gave her horse a firm pat on its sleek neck. The creature’s breath clouded in the chill evening air. She swung into the saddle with practiced ease, the familiar creak of leather grounding her for what lay ahead.
The path ahead was narrow, hemmed in by towering pines whose branches seemed to stretch out like skeletal fingers, clawing at the low-hanging mist. Shadows danced and twisted in the dim light of the fading sun, creating an otherworldly atmosphere that matched her uneasy thoughts. Each hoofbeat struck the ground with a rhythmic finality, as if the earth itself marked her journey with solemn acknowledgment.
Her cloak whipped around her in the cool breeze. It was a small thing to focus on, but she welcomed the distraction. Anything to keep her from dwelling too long on the enormity of the mission she had just accepted. The Triad's crypt and its weighty silence were now behind her, but the words of The Favored still echoedin her mind. She was sure she would succeed in her task, but it weighed on her. The Lennox family’s influence, the life of a missing girl, the approval of The Favored — it all coalesced into a single daunting weight. Yet she held her head high, her sharp eyes scanning the road ahead with a determination that brooked no weakness.
“This will change everything,” she murmured under her breath, her voice barely audible over the steady clatter of hooves. It was not the first time she’d told herself that, but tonight the words carried a sharper edge. For years, she had worked in the shadows, completing assignments with precision and efficiency, always hoping that each success would finally earn her the respect and belonging she craved. This mission, however, felt different, more personal.
The terrain grew rougher as the path climbed into the hills. Stones and roots jutted out from the earth, forcing her horse to pick its way carefully. She leaned forward slightly, one hand on the reins, the other resting instinctively near the satchel at her side, the vials clinking softly with each movement. Ahead, the mist thickened, obscuring the horizon and giving the world an eerie, dreamlike quality. The faint scent of damp earth and pine filled her senses, grounding her once more in the present. Whatever lay beyond the next rise, she would face it head-on.
Once I succeed, me position in the Triad will be secure forever.
CHAPTER TWO
The bustling market of Kilmaroy greeted Finley Lennox with a cacophony of merchants shouting over one another to advertise their wares. The scent of freshly-baked bread, cured meats, and the occasional waft of manure reminded him that he was far from the genteel halls of Lennox Castle.
The journey had been grueling — three days of unrelenting travel — but arriving earlier than planned gave him a strange, bittersweet sense of relief. He had only a few days to gain the upper hand before whoever the Triad had chosen to assist him arrived. The organization worked on its own cryptic timetable, answering to no one but their own mysterious hierarchy.
The Triad. His parents spoke of them with reverence, his grandmother with a quiet, almost fearful respect. Yet Finley had always harbored skepticism. What kind of entity demanded such blind devotion without offering even a glimpse of their true nature? They were an enigma — puppeteers who thrived on secrets and mystery.
Still, he needed them.
Desperation had led him to this moment, a feeling so consuming that it eclipsed his doubts and pride. Davina's face, haunting and fragile, was still etched in his mind like a brand. He refused to let it grow blurry in his memory, despite all the time that had passed.
