Page 60 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
“Finley—”
“Dinnae speak, lass,” he cut in, his voice low, steady. “Just listen.”
She closed her mouth, watching him with wary eyes. He held her hands between his own now, warm against her skin.
“I ken ye think ye belong only tae the Triad,” he began, his gaze unwavering, voice hoarse with something raw, something near breaking. “That ye've fashioned yerself in their ways, that they’re yer home, yer place. An’ maybe they are. Maybe they always will be.”
Edin felt her breath hitch, the words settling heavy in her chest.
“But if ye ever find yerself wantin' somethin’ more — someone more — then ken this, Edin.” His fingers tightened ever so slightly around hers. “Ye've a place wi' me. Nae just in me clan, nae just as a warrior by me side — but in me heart, as me wife.”
Her lips parted, but he pressed on, giving her no room to protest, no room to run from the truth laid bare between them.
“I love ye,” he said, the words stark, unyielding, and achingly certain. “An’ I’ll nae wed another. There will be nay other woman in me bed, nay other name upon me lips; nay other face I’ll turn tae in the dark o’ night. It will be ye, or it will be naebody. An’ if ye cannae say the same, then I will wait. I will always be waitin’, Edin. Fer as long as it takes.”
The world spun beneath her feet, the strength of his devotion knocking the breath from her lungs.
No man had ever spoken to her like that or had ever offered her a love unshaken by doubt or duty. She had spent her life learning that love was a weakness, a shackle, a fool’s hope. But standing before him now, with the fire of his confession burning between them, she felt none of those things. She felt light. She finally felt free.
Her fingers trembled as they reached for him, as they touched the sharp angle of his jaw. He leaned into her touch, just a little, just enough. She drew a slow breath, steadying herself.
“Ye daft, stubborn man,” she whispered, the words catching on the tears thick in her throat. “Ye mean tae wait on me, then?”
He nodded once, the corner of his mouth tilting, soft and sure. “Fer as long as it takes.”
A breath of laughter, unbidden and bright, slipped past her lips. “Foolish thing.”
“Aye.”
And then she kissed him.
Finley kissed her as if he had been starving for it, as if he had been waiting his whole life for this one moment. His hands cradled her face, his breath mingling with hers, and she melted against him, pressing herself into the certainty of his arms.
When they parted, she rested her forehead against his, her fingers tangled in the hair at his nape. “Aye,” she breathed, a smile breaking free, unguarded, unafraid. “Aye, Finley. I’ll be yer wife.”
His laughter, deep and rich, rumbled against her chest as he swept her off her feet, spinning her once before setting her gently back upon the earth. His hands framed her face, his thumbs tracing the edges of her smile.
“Ye’ll nae regret it, lass.”
“I ken,” she murmured, holding him close. “An’ if I dae, I’ll make certain ye regret it more.”
He barked a laugh, pressing another kiss to her lips, this one lingering, this one speaking of a promise sealed beneath the moonlight.
And for the first time in her life, Edin was not afraid of forever.
EPILOGUE
The journey back to Lennox Castle was a quiet one, the carriage swaying gently with every rut and dip in the road. Sunlight streamed through the small windows, casting shifting patterns across the worn seats and illuminating the dust that swirled in the air. Outside, the Highland landscape stretched endlessly, rolling hills and jagged cliffs bathed in golden light.
Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was of exhaustion tinged with impatience. Davina sat across from Edin and Finley, her body slumped against the cushioned wall. Though she was free, the burden of all she had endured clung to her like an invisible shroud. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her skirt, and every so often, her gaze would flicker toward the window, as if to remind herself that she was truly going home. that she had survived.
Fatigue pulled at her features, her sharp eyes dulled by everything she had suffered. And yet, there was a glint of something beneath it all — an ember that had not been snuffed out; a quiet resilience that refused to be broken. She had not yet fully recovered, but she would.
Edin stared out the window, watching the sunlit landscape blur past, the trees swaying like silent sentinels under the night sky. She was also going home —to Lennox Castle. Whether or not it would ever truly feel like home was yet to be seen.
Something in her chest tightened. She had spent years convincing herself that she belonged nowhere but the Triad; that her place was among shadows and whispered orders. But now, for the first time in her life, she was choosing something else. Choosing someone else.
After travelling a little longer, she looked at Finley and said, “Stop the carriage.”
