“Absolutely not,” he agreed.
Then Finlay and Ramsay hoisted us both to our feet and shoved us toward the dance floor.
Linking arms, we crowded into a circle and sang at the top of our lungs. This was what it had all been for. To celebrate love. In all its forms.
The curse was broken.
The sun was shining.
And for the first time in three hundred years, a Wright woman could love without fear.
That was worth celebrating.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
AGNES
The morning light crept in, clear and golden, bringing with it the kind of Scottish winter’s day that felt like a gift. The loch was still beneath the pale sky, Loren Brae almost perfectly reflected on its smooth surface, and if I was any good at photography, I would have grabbed my camera to capture the postcard-worthy image.
Today would change everything.
Granted, a lot of days had felt like that over the past few weeks, hell, years even. But, still. Today was a red-letter day.
I stood at my window, watching the soft morning light spill across the water, dipping over the hills, and lingering over the roofs of the village, and smiled.
We’d done it. We’d actually fulfilled the Order of Caledonia, and today, we would take the final steps. Archie and Hilda had invited us to meet in the castle’s garden, for weneeded to officially complete a ritual that would bond the Order members and release the Kelpies from their overprotective duties in their watch over the Clach na Fìrinn.
“There’s a bonnie lass.”
I turned to find Graham in the doorway, two cups of tea in his hands. He looked better than he had any right to look after nearly drowning twice in two days. Faelan’s healing had worked wonders, leaving only faint shadows under his eyes to mark the ordeal, though the bruises still marred his chest and bandages were still wrapped around his feet.
I sucked in a breath.
I’d come so damn close to losing him. Even the thought of yesterday, desperately bargaining with the Beithir while precious seconds ticked by, had my nausea rising and my eyes stinging.
“Och, darling.” Graham took one look at my face and put the teacups down, crossing over to gather me into his arms. “Don’t. It kills me to see you looking like that.”
“I almost lost you,” I said into his chest. I’d said the same, in many variations, through the night. It had become a refrain that looped in my head, and I wasn’t sure if it would ever fully go away.In some senses, I now understand my mother better. Her desperate grief.And I wasn’t even going to get started on how small and scared I’d felt facing down the Beithir.
Trauma had a way of sinking its claws into you like that.
“Takes more than getting dredged through the loch a few times to shake me, love.” Graham caught my chin and tilted my head up, brushing a soft kiss over my lips. “Tell me what else is on your mind.”
I took the tea he offered before turning back to the window and gestured toward the island tucked out on the loch. “I’m thinking about the ritual today. Just all the … heaviness of it? The weight of it? It’s just … it’s abigdeal. And I’m still not really sure what it all means. For me.”
Graham came to stand beside me, mirroring my pose, his shoulder warm against mine. “Having second thoughts?”
“No. Not exactly.” I wrapped my hands around the warm cup, letting the heat seep into my fingers. “It’s just... this is permanent. The Order, the Stone, the Bookkeeper role—once I complete this ritual, I’m bound to it. To Loren Brae. To the service of something larger than myself.”
“And that bothers you?”
“It should, shouldn’t it? I’ve spent my whole life valuing independence. Making my own choices. It’s why I love running my own business, after all.”
“And now?”
I looked at him—this man who had waited years for me, who had nearly died for me, who was going to marry me despite everything I’d put him through. Though, to be fair, he’d given me plenty of sleepless nights through the years.
“Now I guess I’m starting to understand that being tied to something isn’t the same as being trapped by it. Maybe belonging somewhere, to someone, to something larger than myself…maybe it’s the whole point.”
