Page 69 of The Violet Raven

He nods, a roguish glint sparking in his eyes. “Quite so. Show me a man who would not bristle at the intrusion upon a moment shared with the woman who commands his heart.”

I feel my breath catch at his words, the weight of them settling over me like a warm cloak. I can’t deny the pull between us—inescapable and undeniable—and moments like this threaten to undo my resolve.

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “Triona, you have long held my heart—since the moment I first laid eyes on you. Everything I do is for you, because you have become the centre of my world, the only thing that truly matters.”

I cross my arms over my chest, hoping to convey with body language that I’m in no mood for his coyness. “Tell me what you said.”

“They did not tell you?”

“I told them I’d hear it from your lips, or not at all. I wanted you to tell me.”

“Your brother told Finn about that kiss in the woods, and I just got so protective of you... over that special moment. Then he—”

I hold up my hand, hearing enough. “I can’t believe you’re both still going on about that.”

His words are careful, as if he is weighing each one before speaking. “I meant no disrespect. I only intended to rile him up, and things got out of hand, and that is my fault. But believe me, Triona, I should have handled things better, especially for your benefit. I truly care about you.”

I’m unsure what to say, still feeling uneasy about it. His words, so effortlessly polished, leave me torn. They’re like honey—sweet and golden—but laced with something sharper, something that both captivates and unsettles me. There’s a charm to him—one I’ve never denied—but tonight, something feels rehearsed. “I appreciate your words, but—”

“Wait,” he interrupts, flashing that devastating smile that seems capable of disarming even the fiercest resolve. “Allow me to prove my devotion, not with empty words, but through actions that reflect just how profoundly you have touched my life.”

He steps into me, his hand gentle as it cups my cheek, his thumb brushing against my skin with such tenderness.

“May I have this dance?”

I hesitate for just a moment, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me. But the inviting spark in his eyes, the way he looks at me, makes my steadfastness waiver. With a deep breath, I nod, allowing him to pull me toward the circle of dancers.

The music picks up, lively and full of cheer, and as we move together, I try to focus on the rhythm, the hum of the strings, and the energy of the surrounding crowd.

Marcus’s hand is warm and steady on my waist, his touch igniting a thrilling current that seems to spark through every fibre of my being as he guides me effortlessly into the dance.

He leans in, his voice a rough murmur meant only for me. “When I am near you, the rest of the world fades into insignificance. In your presence, there is only us, and I would traverse seas and scale mountains to preserve that.”

Fuelled by the sweet caress of scotch, I find it easier to push aside my lingering doubts. I allow myself to be swept up in the music, his words, and the intoxicating warmth of his presence.

Finn

I stand in the shadows, arms folded across my chest, watching the scene unfold. My usual, affable grin is nowhere to be found. Instead, my jaw is clenched as my gaze darts to Marcus, who is pulling Triona close in a slow, intimate sway.

His hand lingers at the small of her back, and my blood boils. Triona tips her head back, a soft smile teasing her lips as Marcus leans in—too close, too familiar—murmuring something in her ear. There’s a looseness in her movements, the kind that says she’s had a drink or three. She laughs, light and unguarded, unaware or unwilling to care who’s watching. He pulls her in, nuzzling her hair as they sway to the lively beat.

James’s words from earlier replay over and over in my head every time I want to grab hold of her.

‘We’ve a lot to discuss, and little time to do so. So for now, we need ye both to keep yer eyes open and yer mouths shut.”’

I need something to occupy my mind—anything—or I’ll go mad. Deciding on more drink, I turn to refill my cup, but before I can take another step, Colina steps into my path, blocking the way.

“Finn, dance with me?” she pleads, her eyes bright with determination.

I give her my best smile. “Aye, let me just put my cup down.”

She grasps my hand, leading me out to the centre of dancers. The lively music wraps around us, the rhythm infectious and lighthearted. I move easily with the steps, though the pull of Triona and Marcus lingers in my mind like an invisible tether.

“Why do ye look so sombre, then?” Colina inquires, her voice soft against the backdrop of the laughter and chatter. “Ye should be enjoyin’ yerself! Gods know ye’ve overworked yerself wi’ all that ye’ve been doin’.”

“Aye, well, I’m glad I took a page from yer book to join in the revelry,” I reply. “Maybe this is exactly what I needed.”

“Ye deserve some happiness, Finn,” Colina replies, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “What if I told ye that I could be that happiness?”