Epilogue

EPILOGUE

T he day dawned crisp and clear with the early morning light casting a golden glow over the sprawling grounds of the Crawford castle. Finn stood by the window in his chambers, gazing out over the hills, the loch shimmering like a jewel in the distance. The wind carried the scent of heather and pine, filling the air with the freshness of the Highlands.

He took a deep breath, letting the cool morning air steady him. Today was the day — the day he would marry Thalia.

Properly this time.

Finn had never been the type of man to get anxious, but something about today stirred his nerves. It wasn’t fear of the commitment. No, he had been ready for that the moment Thalia admitted she loved him, and if he was being honest with himself, it was probably before then as well.

It was the gravity of the occasion. After everything they had been through — her uncle’s cruelty, the arrangement they’d made, the failed wedding and the attack — it felt like this wedding, their wedding, needed to be perfect.

He hadn’t realized how much he had been holding onto until now. The memories of that dark day still lingered in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of how fragile happiness could be. But not today. Today, he would marry Thalia with the protection of the entire clan, with his friends at his side, and with a love that was real, not just a convenient arrangement.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. “Finn? Are ye ready?” Cillian’s voice boomed from the other side of the thick wooden door.

“Aye,” Finn called back, straightening his shoulders and glancing at the tartan sash draped over his shoulder, a symbol of the Crawford clan. He opened the door to find Cillian standing there, dressed in his own wedding attire, the blue and green Crawford tartan swathed across his broad chest. Behind him, Brian and Conor stood as well, both grinning like fools.

“Well, look at ye,” Conor said with a wink. “A man ready to be bound for life. How does it feel, eh?”

Finn rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “It feels right,” he said simply, but his voice was thick with emotion.

Cillian clapped him on the back. “That’s what matters, Finn. Ye are doin’ the right thing.”

Finn nodded, feeling a warmth spread through him at his friend’s support. The three men followed him down the stone steps, their footsteps echoing in the grand halls of the castle. Outside, the courtyard was bustling with activity, filled with the familiar faces of their clansmen, friends, and the women who had become part of their family.

A great deal of security had been arranged for the day. The memory of the attack during their first wedding attempt not a week ago still loomed large, but Finn had ensured that nothing like that would ever happen again.

Guards were posted at every entrance, and the perimeter of the castle was fortified with extra patrols. Finn’s friends had taken charge of overseeing the security, and he trusted them with his life. Today, there would be no threats, no interruptions. Nothing would stand between him and Thalia.

The wedding was to take place outdoors, beneath the ancient oak tree that had stood for centuries on the Crawford lands. It had been the same place where several Crawfords had been married, and it felt right to continue the tradition. The land was sacred to their people, a symbol of strength and unity. Also, the chapel was still not ready for this occasion, so the pivot had been an easy one that Thalia immediately agreed to.

As Finn approached the oak, his eyes scanned the crowd until they found her. Thalia stood near the edge of the group, speaking softly with her sisters. She looked radiant, her dark hair braided with wildflowers, her dress simple yet elegant, a traditional gown with Celtic embroidery at the sleeves and hem. But what truly took his breath away was the look of peace on her face.

She caught his gaze and smiled, her eyes softening in a way that made his heart leap. Finn couldn’t help but think back to how far they had come — how she had once been a woman forced into a bargain for her sisters’ sake, and now, she stood before him, about to become his wife of her own free will.

“Ye look nervous,” Arran teased as they approached the gathering. “Are ye sure ye can go through with this?”

Finn chuckled, shaking his head. “Aye, man, I’m sure. More sure than I’ve ever been in my life.”

Conor walked up and leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Just wait until ye see her walking toward ye, lad. That’s when it hits ye — the knowing that it’s forever.”

Finn gave him a sidelong glance. “I think I’ve already known it was forever,” he replied softly. “I just needed to catch up.”

The ceremony itself was simple and steeped in tradition. As was the custom, Thalia’s family had been granted the honor of handing her over. Diana, the eldest of her sisters, stood by her side, her hand clasping Thalia’s tightly as they walked toward Finn. Arabella, with her usual exuberance, was trailing behind, her eyes wide with excitement. Caroline, in front, leading her sister with prideful and careful steps.

Thalia stepped forward, her gaze never leaving his, and Finn felt the world narrow to just the two of them. The priest presiding over the ceremony raised his hands, calling for silence, and began to speak the ancient words of union in Gaelic. The crowd fell into a hush as the wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the oak tree above them.

Finn held out his hand, and Thalia took it, her fingers trembling slightly in his. He squeezed her hand gently, offering her a small, reassuring smile. This was their moment.

“Hi!” he whispered softly. “I’ve got ye, lass.”

“Don’t you let me fall, Finn Morrison.”

“I wouldnae ever let that happen, me love.”

Her wide smile warmed his chest.

The handfasting cords were brought out — long, woven strands of blue and green, the colors of their clan, to symbolize their binding. As the priest began to tie the cords around their joined hands, he spoke of loyalty, honor, and love. Each knot represented a promise, a vow to be bound together for the rest of their days.

“By the strength of these hands and the power of your vows,” the priest intoned, his voice deep and resonant, “ye are now one, bound in body, heart, and spirit.”

The cords were tightened, and Finn felt the weight of the moment settle over him. He looked into Thalia’s eyes and saw her blinking back tears, her lips curving into a soft, tremulous smile.

He leaned closer, his voice low as he whispered, “I’m yers now, Thalia. I willnae ever let ye go.”

She smiled wider, her tears threatening to spill over. “I wouldn’t let you, even if you tried.”

The man completed the ritual, declaring them husband and wife, and the gathered crowd erupted in cheers. Finn released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, pulling Thalia into his arms, kissing her gently as the joy of the moment swept over him.

The kiss was sweet, full of promise, but it held a deeper meaning. It wasn’t just a kiss of ceremony — it was a kiss that told Thalia, We made it. It told her, You’re mine, and I’m yours.

The festivities that followed were full of laughter, music, and dancing. Bagpipes filled the air, and the clan joined together in a lively ceilidh that lasted well into the evening. There was a sense of relief, of celebration — not just for their marriage but for everything that had led them to this moment. It felt like the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another. A fresh start.

Thalia, now officially his wife, danced with abandon, her cheeks flushed and her laughter ringing out over the music. Finn couldn’t take his eyes off her. Every time she moved, it was as if she was the center of everything good in his life. She had saved him in more ways than he could count, and now, she was his forever.

At one point, Cillian, Rhys, and Conor found him leaning against the edge of the long banquet table, watching Thalia with a wistful smile on his face. Cillian elbowed him, grinning wide. “Ye did well, lad. She’s a fierce one, but she’s got a good heart.”

“Aye,” Finn agreed, his gaze never wavering from Thalia. “She does.”

Rhys raised his mug, chuckling. “Who’d have thought? The man who said he’d never fall in love now tied to one of the fiercest lass in all the Highlands, and she’s English at that!”

Finn only laughed, shaking his head. “I dinnae plan on it,” he admitted. “But I reckon I’m the luckiest man alive for it.”

They all shared a laugh, clinking their mugs together in a toast before Finn excused himself to join Thalia on the dance floor.

He approached her, holding out his hand with a smile. “May I have this dance, wife?”

Thalia’s face lit up, and she placed her hand in his without hesitation. “Of course, husband.”

They twirled together, surrounded by the joy and laughter of their friends and family. Finn couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace settle deep within him. He had found what he didn’t know he was looking for —someone who challenged him, who understood him, and who loved him in spite of all his flaws.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the land, Finn knew one thing for certain: this was only the beginning. Their life together stretched out before them, filled with the promise of adventure, love, and an unbreakable bond.

He pulled Thalia closer, resting his forehead against hers as the music played on. “I love ye, Thalia,” he whispered softly.

She smiled, her eyes shining with affection. “And I love you, Finn.”

And with that, the world around them faded away once more.

The End?