Page 59 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
Edin followed beside them, her own mount keeping pace. She found herself glancing toward Finley more than once, as if searching for something in the rigid set of his shoulders.
She thought back to what she had just witnessed. She had been lingering at the edge of the chamber, arms folded tightly across her chest, as if bracing against the tide of emotions swelling within her, watching Finley and Davina reunite, their embrace so tight it seemed they might never let go. It had sent a peculiar ache through her chest. It was raw, unfiltered relief, so potent it nearly stole her breath.
She had clenched her jaw, willing herself to remain steady, but there had been no stopping the way her throat had constricted at the sight of them. A strange warmth had pricked behind her eyes, and she had turned her gaze to the floor, pretending to busy herself with brushing dust off her sleeve.
Edin had stood still, her breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat, as she watched the siblings cling to one another like two halves of a soul torn apart and finally stitched back together. It was as if the world had narrowed to just them, a moment so pure that it had had left her feeling like an intruder, a shadow lurking at the edge of something sacred.
She had swallowed hard, her throat tightening against the rush of emotion she had no name for. Love—she had seen it before, knew of it in the abstract, in the way people spoke of it with wistful sighs or in the way some fought for it as though their lives depended on it. But to witness it like that, raw and unguarded, had been something else entirely. It had settled in her chest like a weight she hadn’t expected, pressing against something long buried, something she thought she had hardened herself against.
Family.
She had long since abandoned any notion of belonging to one. The Triad had taken her in, yes, but there had never been warmth in it, never the kind of connection she had seen between Finley and his sister. The Triad was built on necessity, on survival, on the cold, unyielding logic that bonds were liabilities, and emotions were weaknesses. And for the longest time, she had believed it.
But there, in the dim torchlight of the dungeon, with Finley’s voice thick with relief and Davina’s eyes shining with something she could only describe as unshaken trust, Edin had felt something inside her crack.
What would it be like, she had wondered, to have someone look at her like that? To be wanted—loved—not for her skills, not for what she could do, but simply for who she was?
For years, she had convinced herself that it did not matter, that she did not need it. And yet, the ache in her chest told a different story. If her family—her real family—still existed somewhere out there, what would they say if they saw her now? Would they recognize her? Would they even want her??
A lifetime of fighting, of running, of doing what she had to do to survive—had it made her someone they could no longer love?
It was foolish to think of such things. And yet, the thought would not leave her.
Maybe it was time to leave, to try and find the people she had lost. She had spent so much of her life telling herself she didn’t need anyone, but now she wasn’t sure if that had ever been true.
Her gaze flickered to Finley.
If there was anyone she had ever felt this way toward, it was him. Not in the same way he loved his sister, but in something just as unshakable. He was the only person who had ever made her feel seen, like she was more than just a weapon, more than just a name on the lips of those who feared the Triad. He made her feel?—
She cut off the thought before it could settle, before it could make her weak. But deep down, she knew the truth.
She had spent years thinking love was nothing more than a pretty illusion, a fragile thing that would break under the weight of the world. But now, as she watched Finley, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong all along.
When they finally reached camp, the dim glow of firelight stretched long shadows against the canvas of the tents. The usual sounds of quiet conversation and shifting movement were softer tonight, subdued, as if the entire camp had felt the tremors of what had unfolded.
Finley was the first to dismount, reaching back to steady Davina as she slid from the saddle.
He turned to look at her then, his voice gruff but gentler than Edin had ever heard it. “Ye should rest.”
Davina hesitated for only a moment, glancing between them before nodding. “Aye,” she murmured, her voice raw. “Thank ye, Finley.”
He gave a short nod, but his jaw tightened as if there was more he wished to say..
Without another word, Davina stepped past them, disappearing into one of the empty tents, leaving the two of them alone. The air between them shifted — still charged, but different now. Edin felt the heat of Finley’s presence beside her.
Then, without a word, he reached for her hand.
She blinked, startled by the quiet assurance of it, the warmth of his calloused palm against hers. He didn’t look at her, not yet, just turned and started walking, tugging her along with him.
Edin hesitated but let him lead.
He didn’t let go. He walked in silence, his grip firm but gentle around Edin’s hand.
The firelight flickered in the distance as they stepped beyond the edge of the camp, the sounds of weary warriors settling into rest fading behind them.
Edin let herself be led, her mind tangled in a thousand unspoken thoughts. She did not often feel uncertainty, but something about the solemnity of his silence, the intent in his step, sent a shiver down her spine.
When he stopped at last, turning to face her, the world around them had quieted, save for the wind whispering through the trees. Moonlight streamed between the branches, casting silver along his sharp features. Edin swallowed, suddenly aware of how fiercely her heart was pounding against her ribs.
