“Someone whole. Someone who isn’t broken by her past.”
“Brynja.” Connor’s voice turned stern. “Listen to me. We’re all broken. Every single one of us. I’m broken by the wars I’ve fought and the people I’ve lost. Sela’s broken by what was done to her before we met. My wife still has occasional nightmares. Hagen’s broken by the weight of expectations he can never quite meet. Being broken isn’t the problem. The problem is thinking you have to be perfect to deserve love.”
“But—”
“No buts. If Hagen wanted someone perfect, he’d have chosen someone else. He chose you. Nightmares and all. Rage and all. Past and all.” He squeezed her hand again. “Don’t insult him by deciding for him what he can handle.”
A watery laugh escaped her. “You’re quite blunt.”
“I’m older and I nearly died. I don’t have time for pretty words.” But his smile was kind. “Besides, you need someone to be blunt with you. You’ve been living with pain for too long, making up stories about what you deserve and what you don’t. Time to stop thinking and start living.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. One choice at a time. Today, you choose to stay instead of run. On the morrow, you choose to let yourself be happy even though it feels dangerous. The day after that, you choose to trust that Hagen means what he says when he tells you he loves you.” Connor’s expression grew serious. “And eventually, if you keep choosing, you’ll look back and realize you’ve built a life. Not the life you thought you’d have. Not the life without pain. But a life worth living anyway.”
Brynja sat with his words, feeling the truth of them settle into her bones. Sholto would be dead. Her mother’s murderer would be dead too. She would see to it. The revenge she’d spent months pursuing would be done. She’d made that vow to herself and would see it through.
But what then?
Not the girl who watched her mother die.
Not the woman consumed by vengeance.
But perhaps the woman who learned to ride and laugh and love despite everything. The woman who kept a dagger under her pillow but didn’t let that be all she was. The woman who had been broken and chose to build something new from the pieces.
“My thanks to you, my lord,” she said softly.
“For what? Lecturing you after you brought me stew?” Connor’s eyes twinkled. “You’re welcome. Come back on the morrow with more food and I’ll lecture you again.”
Despite everything, Brynja smiled. “I’ll consider it.”
“Good.” He released her hand and reached for his stew again. “Now go find my son and tell him you’re staying. Put the poor lad out of his misery. He’s been moping around like a kicked puppy for days.”
“He has?”
“He has. Trust me, I know what Grant men look like when they’re in love and terrified.” Connor’s expression turned knowing. “I looked the same way when I met Sela. Like I’d been hit in the head with a mallet and couldn’t quite remember my own name.”
Brynja stood, smoothing her tunic. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too long. Life’s short. I just learned that lesson again, rather painfully.” He gestured to his wounded side. “Don’t wait for a sword to the gut to figure out what matters.”
“Wise words from a man who nearly died.”
“The best wisdom usually comes after near-death experiences. Makes you focus on what’s important.” He settled back against his pillows. “Now go. Let an old man rest.”
Brynja moved to the door, then paused. “Connor?”
“Aye?”
“Do you ever regret it? The vengeance you took? The men you killed?”
He was quiet for a long moment. “Some of them, aye. The ones who didn’t need killing. The ones I killed out of rage instead of necessity.” He met her eyes. “But the ones who hurt people I loved? The ones who would have kept hurting if I’d let them? Those I don’t regret. I’d kill them again if I had to.”
“So vengeance isn’t always wrong.”
“Nay. It’s just not always right either. It’s like anything else in life, complicated. Messy. Sometimes necessary. Sometimes poison. The trick is knowing which one you’re dealing with.” He smiled faintly. “And you, lass? You are dealing with the necessary kind. So stop second-guessing yourself and start living.”
Brynja nodded, something settling in her chest. Not peace, exactly. But perhaps the beginning of it.
