Page 45

T hree days late.

The skies over Halberry Castle were clear, swept clean by a breeze that carried the salt of the sea.

Sunlight bathed the stone courtyard, catching the banners that fluttered high on the turrets—Gunn colors, stitched with the clan’s crest. Inside the great hall, there would be laughter again, and music; the low murmur of guests gathered shoulder to shoulder.

This day was for joy.

Torrin stood at the front of the chapel, still and imposing, yet unmistakably nervous in the way only a man in love could be. He wore a fine dark tunic embroidered with subtle silver thread, his sword belted at his side—not for battle, but as a symbol of who he was, and what he had fought to keep.

Beside him stood Noah, relaxed but watchful as ever.

Though Torrin was certain there would be no trouble, Noah had an undying need to be in control at any given moment—a need that Torrin himself shared any other day but that day, the day of his wedding.

He was glad to have Noah there for that.

He was glad to have someone he trusted so implicitly, someone who didn’t even need his orders to do what he had to do.

The double doors creaked open and all conversation in the chapel faded to a breathless hush as Valora stepped inside.

She wore a different gown, of soft ivory and pearl, simple in shape but finely made, its long sleeves caught at the wrists with delicate cuffs of embroidery.

Her hair fell in long waves, the top half gathered in braids and threaded with bits of heather and white wildflowers.

Torrin’s chest rose and held, his breath catching. Never before had he seen a sight as beautiful, as mesmerizing and he found that he couldn’t tear his eyes off her at all.

She walked down the aisle unescorted, head high, eyes locked on his. When she reached him, she took his hand with no trembling.

“Me laird,” she whispered with a small, teasing smile.

He raised her hand to his lips. “Me heart.”

The ceremony was brief, but not hurried. The guests in the chapel were few, but all of them were dear to Torrin—Noah, Daisy, and even Col, who had returned from his mission and had come straight to Halberry Castle after receiving word of everything that had happened while he was away.

When the priest asked, “Dae ye bind yerself in love, before our Lord an’ before yer clan?” Valora’s voice rang clear and true.

“I dae.”

Torrin’s answer was quieter, but no less certain. “I dae. Until me last breath.”

Cheers erupted when he kissed her—gentle but full of passion—and arms went up in celebration.

Outside, as the two of them stepped out of the chapel to make their way to the great hall, the air came alive—pipes rose in triumph, laughter tumbled through the courtyard, and nobles and servants alike rejoiced.

Back inside the keep, the celebrations were already underway as Torrin and Valora stepped into the great hall.

The servants had decorated it lavishly with banners, tapestries, and flowers, the air fragrant with their scents.

The tables had been set, buckling under the weight of the lavish feast—meats and vegetables and cheeses, an endless flow of ale and wine.

At a long oak table set near the hearth, Col sat alone, nursing a drink. When he saw Torrin and Valora approach, he stood and bowed to her—a gesture that Valora returned with grace.

“Me lady, I’ve heard so much about ye already,” he said. “I hope me cousin has been behavin’.”

“Why wouldnae I be?” Torrin asked, raising a curious eyebrow. “Valora, this is Col. Dinnae listen tae him, he seems tae have forgotten his manners after bein’ away fer so long.”

Valora laughed softly, shaking her head. “It’s good tae meet ye, Col. Dinnae listen tae me husband, he is very fond o’ ye.”

Col chuckled softly, shrugging a shoulder. “That’s alright. I already ken that,” he said, much to Torrin’s chagrin. “I hope ye dinnae have tae endure any more hardships now that ye are married tae him.”

Valora glanced at Torrin, her lips quirking up in a small smile.

“Nay more abductions, I hope. But, there’s somethin’ I cannae leave undone.”

Torrin tilted his head to the side in confusion, his brows furrowing. “What is that?”

“Althea. I have tae ken she’s safe,” Valora said. “I have tae see her.”

“Her sister,” Torrin told Col, before he could even voice his confusion. Then, he turned to Valora, taking her hand in his. “Ye’ll have tae see yer faither, then.”

“I ken. But I dinnae think he will allow her tae come here tae see me. I must go tae her.”

He studied her face, searching for any hint of hesitation. “Are ye alright with that?”

Valora straightened her shoulders, shaking off some thought Torrin could not discern. “I survived Laird Keith. I can survive me faither.”

With a sigh, Torrin brushed a stray strand of golden hair from her cheek. “I ken yer heart. It willnae rest until ye see her with yer own eyes.”

“An’ ye’d come with me?” she asked, voice soft and a little hesitant.

Torrin smiled, quiet and fierce. There was nothing for her to be hesitant about, not when it came to him. “Wherever ye lead, I follow.”

Valora leaned into him with a grateful, relieved sigh, and Torrin wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her close.

This was it, he thought. This was what made all of it worth it—the strife, the battles, the agony.

It had all culminated into this moment of joy and he wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

Behind them, Col cleared his throat. “Well, if ye need me help, ye ken where tae find me,” he offered. “By the sound o’ it, it willnae be a pleasant meetin’.”

“Thank ye, Col,” said Torrin, looking at his cousin over his shoulder. “But I think it will be fine. Laird MacNeacail has nye choice but tae accept us.”

He was the one who had sold Valora to Torrin, after all.

He was the one who had deemed him the best match for her, and so he had no good reason to keep them away.

If anything, with Laird Keith gone, perhaps her father would want to establish a good relationship with Clan Gunn—a relationship that would go past simple alliance and exchanged pleasantries.

Later, as the fires burned low and the castle drifted into slumber, Torrin and Valora stood atop the same roof where they had watched the stars in silence. This time, she leaned against his chest, his cloak wrapped around her shoulders.

“I never thought I’d find a home,” she whispered.

He kissed the top of her head. “Ye didnae find it. We are building it… taegether.”

They stood there a long while, the sea whispering below, the stars bright above. And for the first time in his life, Torrin knew real peace.

But there’s more…

Did Valora return as a daughter… or as something more? And was Althea merely surviving—or waiting for the sister who never stopped protecting her?

If you're drawn to windswept reunions, slow-burning reckonings, cold stone halls filled with old ghosts, and a sisterly bond strong enough to defy a tyrant...

Then you may enjoy this extended epilogue .