Eva had shattered his heart, broken his spirit. What bothered him the most was her refusal to give him a reason. He would have understood had it been her cousin’s presence in Cenn Cora, returning to her life seemingly out of nowhere.
But she’d denied Baeth’s presence as the problem. Something that deeply unsettled Finn. Perhaps he’d been more wrong about her than he could have imagined.
Perhaps she’d never truly intended to marry.
She was the one person who knew all his secrets, who knew more about him than anyone else. He thought she accepted him, in spite of his heritage. In spite of his failures and shortcomings.
Now he wasn’t so certain.
Initially, he thought she was simply rejecting a betrothal. But, after giving it far too much thought, Finn realized Eva wasn’t rejecting a betrothal. She was rejectinghim.
His mood as dark as the sun was bright, Finn joined the rest of the men for their final trial at Cenn Cora.
This particular trial wasn’t one that the residents of the keep and village could watch. Of course, many of them came anyway, but it was nigh impossible to track a man as he ran up and down the hill.
The fourteen men who remained lined up before the trees. One at a time, they ran down the hillside and up again through the dense forest. Cormac and Broccan took turns chasing them, ensuring they never slowed and that they removed the thorns they stepped on as they went. Upon their return to the top of the hill, the bottoms of their feet were inspected to be certain they hadn’t feigned the injury.
Finn took a place near the center of the line, next to a grim-looking Dallan.
“You’ll do just fine,” Finn told him, as though they were still friends. For Finn’s part, that had never changed.
Dallan ignored him.
“What in God’s name is going on with you two?” Diarmid asked from Dallan’s other side. Conan, next to him and the furthest from Finn, leaned forward curiously. “It’s like watching a lovers’ quarrel.”
“Why don’t you ask Finn?” Dallan muttered, never breaking his blank stare toward the forest.
Diarmid shot Finn a pointed look, eyes wide.
Finn looked at his feet, grimacing, determined to cooperate. “I may have bedded his sister.”
Diarmid nearly choked on his laughter.
Conan’s mouth fell so far open he could have caught a bird in it. “You did not!”
“Not helpful,” Dallan growled.
When Diarmid’s laughter faded and he was once more capable of speech, he shook his head at Finn. “I’m guessing you didn’t ask Dallan about it first, eh? You broke one of the only rules of friendship.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Finn defended, unthinking. “It just sort of—happened.”
“It always does,” Diarmid agreed, a little too cheerily for Finn’s liking. “It always does.”
Cormac called the first man to the woods, giving chase seconds behind him.
“You’ll have to talk to him eventually, Dallan,” Conan said. “You’re both going to end up as Fianna, and you know it. You can’t see each other every day and never speak to him.”
“I certainly can,” Dallan argued.
Something about Dallan’s tone sparked a fire in Finn. “You can’t,” he countered. “And I’m going to follow you every day until you finally talk to me about this.”
Broccan and the second man, Ardál, disappeared into the forest. Cormac and the first man returned, stopping immediately to inspect the runner’s feet.
“Fine!” Dallan rounded on him, arms folded defiantly. “You want to talk about it, let’s talk about it. You lied to me. You violated my sister. You betrayed our friendship, my trust. Am I forgetting anything?”
“Conan!” Cormac called. “Get your hairy arse over here!”
Conan raised his eyebrows before running into the woods for his trial, his elder brother on his heels.
