Page 62 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
But even as the sense of obligation lifted, a ghost of her past self lingered in the chamber, watching her with cautious eyes. She had spent her entire life here; training, bleeding, becoming the weapon they had molded her into. How many times had she told herself that she belonged to the Triad, bound by the fact that they had taken her in and shaped her into something so sharp?
And yet, she had only been valued for what she could do. Love — true acceptance — had always been absent.
She dipped her head in respect. “I thank ye — fer all ye have done fer me.”
The words were an acknowledgment, not a farewell. There was no need for one. The Triad did not beg its members to stay. Those who reached five-and-twenty had paid their due, their service complete. She was neither an exception nor a loss worth mourning. Just another weapon they had sharpened and could keep or cast aside when the time came.
With that, she turned on her heel and ascended the stairs in a heartbeat, leaving behind the only life she had ever known.
When she emerged, night had fallen, but Finley was standing exactly where she had left him. The moment his eyes met hers, something in his face softened. Relief flickered in his gaze, as if he had been holding his breath the entire time she was gone
And then she was moving, closing the space between them in a single breath. She barely had time to register his warmth before his arms were around her, pulling her in as if he’d been waiting for this moment forever. Their mouths met in a desperate, searing kiss, his hands tangling in her hair, hers gripping the front of his tunic as if he might disappear if she let go.
When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her lips.
“Thought maybe ye had changed yer mind,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Figured ye might’ve decided tae stay with ‘em after all.”
Edin let out a breathy laugh, her fingers curling against his chest. “Aye? Well, ye figured wrong, Finley Lennox.”
He grinned then, that lopsided, boyish grin that made something deep inside her ache.
“Good,” he said.
With one last kiss, he took her hand in his, leading her back to the carriage. Together, they climbed in, the road ahead stretching wide and open before them.
As they settled into the carriage once more, Edin leaned into the seat, her fingers still laced with Finley’s. The warmth of his touchgrounded her, tethering her to the present, to the choice she had made.
Her mind drifted to the ghosts she had left behind. The Triad had been her world once. Not anymore.
She glanced at Finley, his profile illuminated by the pale light filtering through the window. A life outside the shadows awaited her now, uncertain yet full of possibility. A life of her own. A life of hope. And although she did not yet know what the future held for her, one thing she was sure of: she would not look back.
