Page 58 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
Finley’s brows shot up. “Truly? Ye took down two guards?”
“Aye, she did,” Davina confirmed. “Like a bloody shadow. They didnae see it coming.”
Edin could feel the heat crawling up her neck. She waved a hand, trying to dismiss it. “They were sloppy.”
Finley smirked, tilting his head. “Och, look at ye, blushin’. It’s becoming a habit o’ yers.”
Edin scoffed, arching a brow. “Watch yerself, Finley, or I’ll be addin’ ye tae the list o’ guards I laid out tonight.”
He laughed, the sound rich with something lighter than she’d heard in a long while. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Edin let herself smile, too.
Despite his joy and his laughter, the gravity of the reunion with Davina still settling deep in his chest.
He had expected joy, so that did not come as a surprise. But what he felt was something deeper; something tangled between relief, sorrow, and something else — an awareness he hadn’t anticipated.
His heart had swelled as Davina clung to him, their eyes locking in that moment of unspoken understanding; the months of separation fading as quickly as they'd come. She was there, alive, safe. He had been so sure that he would never see her again, so certain that their family would remain broken in ways too painful to mend. But now — now, everything seemed possible.
Yet, even as he embraced her, that blissful rush was tainted by the hollow ache in his chest. His eyes drifted away from his sister, and he saw her, Edin. Standing off to the side, still, like a shadow too long in the sun, her expression distant, unshifting. She was looking at them, but not really at them. Her gaze was unfocused, lost in thought, in something Finley couldn’t reach. Something that felt like a void.
It pierced him. There was a sadness in Edin’s stillness, something profound.
And Finley understood.
His heart tugged, a mixture of sorrow and longing. The mission was over, and that should have been a cause for celebration. They had found Davina, they had brought her back. But it meant the end of something else that crushed him. It meant the end of Edin.
Finley swallowed hard, feeling the impact of the realization settle inside him.
Edin wasn’t a part of his future — not anymore. They had both known it was always temporary; that their bond would only lastas long as the war they fought, but Finley hadn’t expected it to hit him so hard. He had thought, foolishly, that once the mission was over, he would feel lighter, more at peace.
Instead, there was nothing but this aching sense of loss. The truth of it was sinking in. The loss of something precious.
Edin had always been someone who understood him in ways no one else did. Someone who had been there for him, a silent presence in the chaos; an anchor. And now that he had to walk away from it all — from her — it felt like the ground beneath him was crumbling.
It was strange, how emotions could be so overwhelming, so impossible to untangle. Finley had always believed in duty, in the importance of family and legacy, in the necessity of continuing what was established. But standing there, with Edin watching him, he felt something else — something so much more real than duty, than tradition. He felt the pull of his heart. The truth of it.
It wasn’t about duty anymore. No. He had been so focused on the legacy, on continuing the line, on fulfilling what was expected of him, that he had ignored what was right in front of him.
His feelings for Edin — his deep, gnawing, overwhelming feelings — were something he could no longer ignore. It wasn’t about politics, for they were fleeting, unstable, and unpredictable. A marriage of convenience would not give him what he needed. It wouldn’t give him the depth of connection,the warmth, the fierce desire for someone who truly understood him. Someone who would go through hell beside him.
His thoughts spiraled inward, and Finley realized with brutal clarity that he couldn’t live with the regrets of never telling Edin how he felt. He couldn’t continue pretending that what they had was just companionship. It was more than that. It had always been more than that. He had ignored it, buried it, told himself it was wrong, that it couldn’t be. But now, standing there, his heart aching, he knew.
It was about love, and he couldn’t keep denying it. He couldn’t just walk away from the most important connection he’d ever known.
There was a fierce resolution rising in him, fighting against all the years of conditioning, all the years of following what was expected. He was going to tell his parents. He was going to tell them that there was no dishonor in following his heart. That the woman he chose to love would be someone who made him whole, someone who brought him peace, not just a political pawn to be married off for legacy’s sake.
But before he could formulate another thought, he noticed the distant look in Edin’s eyes again. That same emptiness. The space between them.
The need to tell her, to make Edin understand, was overwhelming. He had to speak her. He had to say the words.
Finley shook his head, trying to clear the cloud of emotion that had taken over him. He couldn’t get lost at that moment. There were other things, other priorities, that needed his attention. Davina needed him. His family needed him. The mission might have ended, but there was still work to do, still a camp to return to. The soldiers were waiting, and they had to move on.
He turned to the women, his heart heavy.
“We should go,” Finley said, his voice rough, almost unreadable. “The camp is waiting fer us.”
The ride back to camp was a silent one, the heaviness of all that had passed settling over them like a heavy cloak. The night air was cool against Edin’s skin, suffused with the scent of damp earth and pine. The only sounds were the steady rhythm of hooves against the softened ground and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees.
Finley rode ahead, his broad frame straight and unyielding, with Davina seated behind him, her arms loosely wrapped around his waist. She was exhausted, swaying slightly with the movement of the horse, but she said nothing.
