Page 75 of The Knucklebone Brothers

Maverick then grabbed the ring from the box, his fingers closing around the antique gold. He turned to face Rory, and I did the same, my body movin' in sync with his, a silent, practiced dance. I reached out and grabbed her hand, and raised it up, presentin' it to him like a sacrifice. Maverick's eyes met hers, a dark, possessive fire in their depths, and he began to tell her, his voice low, and dramatic.

"Every Knucklebone woman wears the ring. Every Knucklebone woman leaves something of herself behind."

Then I spoke up, my voice a low, steady rumble that seemed to come from the ground itself. "The Holler belongs to the Knucklebones. The ring belongs to the woman who carries them forward."

Rory didn't say anything. She just looked between us, her eyes wide and searchin', listenin' to our words, to the weight of our family's history, to the promise of her own future. She just stood there, her hand in mine, her body still, and let the words sink in, let the truth of them settle into her.

Maverick's thumb brushed over the back of her hand, a slow, possessive stroke, as he held the ring at her fingertip. The lanterns around the stage flickered, as if takin' a deep, nervous breath. He looked down at her, his eyes burnin' with a fire.

"Aurora," he began, his voice a low, intense murmur. He paused, let the weight of her name hang in the air between them. "I don't promise you a gentle life."

He leaned in a fraction, his gaze never leavin' hers. "I don't promise you safety... because there is nowhere in this world safer than our arms... and nowhere more dangerous than anything that tries to take you from them."

The lanterns sputtered, and for a second, his face was all sharp angles and dark promise. "I promise you that you will never wonder where you belong again."

He let that sink in, his eyes searchin' hers. "You belong here."

He gestured with his chin, a sweep of the room, of the holler beyond. "With us. In this Holler. In every dark corner that has ever known the Knucklebone name."

His voice dropped even lower, a conspiratorial, intimate sound. "I will learn every scar on your body and every wound you refuse to speak about. I will learn the things that make you laugh, the things that make you afraid, and every little secret you think you can keep from me."

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. "I will love every version of you. The angry one. The broken one. The vicious one. The girl who wants to run."

He leaned in close, his lips almost brushin' her ear. "Especially her." He pulled back, his eyes dartin' between hers and mine, a shared, dark knowledge passin' between us. "Because if you run, pretty thing, I'll follow. Not because I want to cage you. Because I have spent my entire life waitin' for something worth chasin'. And I found you."

He stood up straight, his voice raisin' slightly, takin' on the weight of a sacred vow. "So I swear this before my brother, before our blood, before every dead Knucklebone who ever walked these mountains… I will choose you in every lifetime. If heaven takes you, I'll find the door. If hell claims you, I'll burn it down. If death comes for you, I'll make it regret puttin' its hands on what belongs to us. And when my heart finally stops beatin', I want your name to be the last thing inside it."

He looked down at her, his expression a mix of fierce pride and raw possession. "You are my wife. My pretty thing. My ruin. And I will spend the rest of my life makin' sure you never forget it."

Then he looked at me, a silent signal. My turn. I held her hand, my grip firm and steady, a silent promise of my own. The air grew heavy, the silence stretchin' out, filled only by the sound of her breathin'.

"I don't have pretty promises for you," I began, my voice a low, steady rumble, a difference from Maverick's dramatic flair. "I don't know how to give you the kind of love people write songs about."

I looked down at our joined hands, at the way her fingers fit into mine. "What I know is this… I know how to stay. And I swear to you, I will."

I looked up, my eyes meetin' hers, holdin' her gaze. "When you're angry, I'll stay. When you're afraid, I'll stay. When you hate me, I'll stay. When you think there is nothin' left of you worth lovin', I'll remind you."

I paused, let the words sink in, let the truth of them settle in the air between us. "I will never ask you to be less of yourself to make this family comfortable. You will not have to soften your teeth for me. You will not have to hide your scars. You will not have to pretend you're anythin' other than what you are."

I squeezed her hand, a gentle, but firm, pressure. "You are wild. You are wounded. You are difficult. You are beautiful. You are ours. And we are yours."

My voice grew stronger and lower. "I swear to protect what is ours with everythin' I have. My hands. My blood. My name. My life. Let the world come for you. Let them climb these mountains. Let them find the Holler. They'll have to come through us first."

I looked over at Maverick, a shared, unspoken promise passin' between us. "And they will learn what every Knucklebone learns eventually… We don't give back what is ours."

I looked back at her, my eyes softening. "So take our name. Take our ring. Take every piece of me you want. I don't need them anymore."

Then, Maverick stepped forward. He spoke first, his voice a low, intense whisper.

"Until death."

I followed, my voice a low, steady echo. "Until the grave."

Maverick's eyes burned with a dark, eternal fire. "And beyond it."

My voice was a low, certain promise. "Beyond it."

Then, together, we spoke the words that had been passed down through generations of Knucklebones, a sacred, terrifying vow that bound us all together, that bound the holler to us, and us to it.