Chapter 25

25

T halia tossed and turned in her bed that night. The morning dawned bright and clear, sunlight spilling over the Crawford hills and flooding the castle with a golden glow. She woke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. Today was the day she would be wed to Finn. Today was the day that she was going to tell him that she loved him, but now, her resolve seemed to have faltered.

As she rose from the bed, stretching out the tightness in her limbs, the door to her chamber burst open, revealing Diana and the twins, all of them beaming.

“Today is the day!” Caroline squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her curly hair flying wildly around her face. Thalia noticed that all three of them were dressed in a more Scottish fashion, and it looked good on them.

Diana, ever the calm one, smile warmly as she approached Thalia, holding out a cup of tea. “We brought you breakfast. You’ll need your strength today.” Her voice was steady, but there was a glint of excitement in her eyes.

Arabella had a mischievous glimmer in her gaze. “I heard that when they put on the wedding garter, they make a huge deal of it. You’re going to be the center of attention, Thalia.”

At this, Thalia laughed softly, taking the tea from Diana’s hands and sipping it slowly. “I think I’ve had enough attention already, but I suppose today it can’t be avoided.”

Her stomach fluttered as she thought of Finn. She hadn’t seen him since they all went to bed the night before, as was custom. All of Finn’s friends had arrived, and it was Margot and Evelyn who urged Thalia up to her rooms before the clock struck midnight.

Margot Larson was wed to Laird Campbell, affectionately known as Rhys. Evelyn was Kaiden Doyle’s bride, the Laird McAllister. Scarlett and Nylah were trying to convince her to stay and enjoy the conversation, but when Finn stood up from the table to offer to walk her to her rooms, she obliged.

They had stood outside her chamber for a long while before the dining hall uproar became too much for Finn to miss. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Thalia Sinclair. I’ll be the younger one at the altar.” He joked and guided her into her room leaving her with a kiss on the cheek before disappearing.

“Are you nervous?” Diana asked quietly, her hands smoothing down the simple white gown Thalia would wear until it was time for the formal ceremony.

She thought for a moment then shook her head. “Not nervous, just excited. I never thought I’d find myself here in Scotland, about to marry this man.” Her laugh was laced with disbelief. “It all feels like a dream.”

Diana smiled, her expression softening. “A good dream, I hope?”

“Of course,” Thalia said, sipping her tea.

Although, there is much in the way of it being a truly good dream. Diana doesn’t need to know that.

Rowan brought up a tray of pastries and fruit, and the women of the castle busied themselves around Thalia, helping her dress and style her hair. Saoirse took it upon herself to braid Thalia’s long, brown hair with delicate ribbons, tying it back into an intricate knot that was both simple and elegant.

“Gorgeous,” Saoirse said as she fastened the last ribbon, her hands deft and sure.

Thalia turned to the mirror and blinked at her reflection. She barely recognized herself. Her green eyes, usually bright with determination, now shimmered with a softness she wasn’t used to seeing. The white gown, though simple, made her look like something out of a fable.

“Thank you,” Thalia whispered, twisting her head back and forth to view the different angles of the braids.

“Now,” Rowan said, bustling into the room, her arms full of herbs and flowers, “We’ve got a few more traditions to see to before ye are off to the chapel.” She grinned widely, setting the bundle down on the table and gesturing for Thalia to come closer.

“What’s this?” she asked, curious as she eyes the assortment of greenery.

“It’s a custom here to include herbs and flowers that bring good fortune and protect ye from ill will. Ye carry this as a wedding bouquet, o’ course!”

Saoirse stepped forward, plucking a spring of heather from the pile and weaving it into the bouquet. “Heather for protection and good luck,” she explained, handing it to Thalia with a knowing smile.

As the women continued to weave the flowers and herbs into the bouquet, Thalia felt herself relax. The laughter, the warmth of her sisters near to her — it was all quite comforting.

The soft sounds of bagpipes indicated that it was time. The tune drifted in from outside the castle walls, signaling the start of the ceremony. Finn was leading the wedding party to the chapel.

“Are ye ready, lass?” Saoirse asked, her smile warm.

Thalia nodded, taking her sisters’ hands. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Together, they made their way through the castle and out into the courtyard, where a procession of people had already gathered. The courtyard was a riot of color and sound — flowers decorated every available surface, and the air was filled with the scent of fresh pine and lavender. The men of the castle were dressed in their finest kilts, the plaid of Clan Crawford proudly displayed. The women wore gowns of deep, rich colors, their hair adorned with more flowers and ribbons.

As Thalia stepped into the courtyard, all eyes turned to her. She felt a wave of self-consciousness, but it was quickly replaced by something else — pride. Her eyes scanned the crowd; all of the clansmen and women were smiling at her. Welcoming her.

The bagpipes continued to play, their hauntingly beautiful melody filling the air as Thalia made her way toward the chapel. Her heart raced with every step, and she finally reached the threshold; she couldn’t help but smile. Her sisters, led by Diana, entered first.

She chuckled when she heard Arabella say, “Oh Finn! Hi!” Thalia imagined that her youngest sister was waving erratically, and the warm, soft laughter that followed her outburst all but confirmed it.

I wish I could have seen his smile when she did that.

Everyone was waiting for her to enter the chapel. The bagpipes played on, the fragrant air wisped around her, encouraging her to take the step. She had to take this step by herself since her father was not there to walk with her.

I hope you are proud of me, she thought, images of her father and mother swirled in her mind, and she took a deep breath.

The hair on her arms stood taught with anticipation as she stood in the doorway.

Now or never, Thalia. Ready? One… Two…

Her silhouette was motionless in the doorway. The sun shone behind her and radiated tiny rays of light around her frame. His heart pounded in his chest as he saw the outline of her shoulders rise and fall, as if she just took a deep breath.

“Come on, lass. Come to me,” he whispered, putting his intentions into the space between them. “Take the step, lass. Yer strong enough.”

The bagpipes continued with the melody, and at the crescendo, he watched as the skirts of Thalia’s dress lifted ever so slightly, and her radiant smile came into full view.

Saints alive…

The sight of her took his breath away, and he felt Cillian lean in. “Aye, today’s the day ye give us all hope since even a beast like ye can find love.”

Finn snorted, shaking his head slightly. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”

Cillian laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m happy for ye, Finn. She is good.”

“Aye, she is,” Finn agreed, his voice low, his eyes never leaving hers as she slowly made her way to him.

Cillian nodded and took his seat in the family row next to the rest of his friends that had become his family.

The crowd faded with each step she took. It was as if the world had narrowed to just the two of them, the music a distant hum.

When she finally reached him, standing mere inches away, his heart thundered in his chest. “Ye look beautiful, Thalia Sinclair.” His voice was a bit rougher than intended, and he bristled.

Her smile widened, as if expecting it, her green eyes sparkling with excitement. “And you look quite dashing yourself, Finn Morrison.”

“Are ye ready to do this, lass?”

“Very much so,” she said without hesitation.

The ceremony began, the priest leading them through the traditional vows. Finn repeated the words and added a promise to protect her, stand by her side, and honor her as his wife. His voice was steady though his hands trembled slightly as he held hers.

Thalia repeated the vows, adding in her own promise to see him, challenge him, and love him for as long as she lived. Her admission sparked recognition in his eyes, and for a moment, he delayed the hand fasting to take in the woman he was marrying.

I will love you for as long as I live… that’s what she promised — vowed.

A smile spread widely across his face, and she mirrored his joy as he realized that his admission the night before about when he fell in love with her had not been one-sided after all. He made a mental note to tease her about it later.

If we love each other, then why carry through with any deal pretense?

Should I say something now?

Perhaps we just call the deal off later after we say the words.

Then came the hand fasting, a tradition passed down through generations. The priest took a length of the Morrison tartan, wrapping it around their joined hands, resting the ropes on their wrists. As the priest spoke the ancient words of blessing, Finn’s gaze never left Thalia’s face.

“With this knot I am about to make, ye are bound in love,” the priest said, his voice solemn.

“May your two hearts be one, and may your union be blessed with strength, happiness, and many bairns.”

Finn’s lips twitched at the mention of children as did Thalia’s.

They both watched as the priest started tying the rope into the intricate knot, his smile warm and welcoming, and Finn squeezed her hands. Their eyes locked.

“Almost there,” he whispered, and watched her smile. Unfortunately, neither of them realized that the priest had abruptly stopped tying their knot.

The world seemed to slow as the chapel fell ghastly silent. The recognizable gurgling sound that interrupted the peace was one that he had heard years ago during the war on the battlefield. One of his young clansmen had taken a blow to the side of his neck, and the blood had curdled in his throat, suffocating him. The young man had reached up and gripped Finn’s arm, silently begging for help, writhing in pain until finally, the light in the young man’s eyes dimmed. As Finn shook his head trying to rid himself of the demon, he heard the noise again and then a hair-raising scream from someone in the crowd, shattering the peaceful air of their wedding.

Glass rained down from above as the figures clad in dark clothing poured into the chapel, shattering the windows with ruthless precision. Thalia jumped startle, and Finn’s heart pounded, his eyes wild as he searched the chapel. He knew the symbols on the assailants’ clothing.

“James Bruce,” Finn said through gritted teeth, and before he took a step toward the large man standing in the main aisle, arms spread wide, instigating another fight, a sinister voice rang out. He watched his brothers stand and posture for a fight.

“I now pronounce you as The Beast and The Whore.” Finn’s hair stood on edge. He knew that voice.

Maximilian Sinclair, his face twisted in a mocking grin, stepped around the bloody wreckage of the altar as if he were the priest himself. “May I be the first to offer my sincere congratulations,” he said with an exaggerated bow. Two of James’s men stood on either side of him, a blade gleaming in one of their hands dripping with blood before them.

Before Finn could act, Herbert seized Thalia, dragging her against his chest with a knife pressed to her throat. Fury burned in Finn’s gut as his vision tunneled, focusing solely on her.

Aye, I should have killed that weasel when we rescued the sisters.

Her wide eyes met his, her lips parted in shock. She wasn’t screaming, but the terror in her gaze said everything. Finn’s muscles coiled, every inch of him poised to strike.

“You may now say goodbye to the bride – or is she your wife now? I cannot keep these ceremonies in order,” her uncle sneered, his twisted words slicing through Finn’s control.

Her uncle cackled and then bellowed, “Oh! That’s right, I’ve just killed the priest before he could officially tie that barbaric knot over your hands and name you. You brutes and your traditions.”

The world seemed to slow as the chaos around them erupted into violence. There was a moment, a heartbeat, when Finn heard swords unsheathing, the click of rifles readying. His friends moved in unison, forming a protective circle around him and Thalia, their weapons at the ready, but Finn’s eyes never left Maximilian, never wavered from the man responsible for this bloody interruption.

“I told you I would stop at nothing, and here I am.” His arms were outstretched. A brilliant, bronze hand dazzled in the place of his missing limb. “And I’ve brought friends of yours I believe.”

Finn’s mind flashed to the countless battles he had fought in. The faces of each man he had lost filled his vision, and that familiar rage, the one he thought had long since faded, roared back to life. He knew that this was no longer about a wedding or their deal.

This is war.

He moved, faster than any of them expected, driving forward like a beast unleashed. He would be killing James Bruce and his men once and for all. His sword sang as it left its sheath, the heavy blade cleaving through the first man in his path with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across the chapel floor as Finn roared, his instincts taking over.

“Herbert!” Maximilian barked, stepping back into the shadows, his grin faltering as he realized Finn’s fury was not something to be taken lightly. “Take her!”

Herbert, pale and shaking, tried to pull Thalia away, but Finn was on him in seconds. His sword struck out, and Herbert barely managed to raise his blade in defense, the force of the blow sending him stumbling backward. He managed to whimper as he held up one hand to feign surrender, but his other hand remained gripped around Thalia’s waist.

Thalia twisted in Herbert’s grasp, her green eyes locking with Finn’s.

“Run!” Finn snarled as his sword poised overhead.

Herbert’s grip had loosened for just a moment as Finn raised his weapon. She wrenched herself free, darting out of harm’s way, just in time for his blade to find Herbert’s once more. This time, his power was greater, and the force of the blow traced a line down the side of Herbert’s face. His screams echoed through the chapel.

“You think you can stop this?” Maximilian’s voice taunted from somewhere in the chaos behind him, and Finn stayed his blade to turn and face him.