He forgot how to breathe the moment he caught a glimpse of her.
She stepped into the sunlight with Scarlett at her side, her pale green gown stirring softly in the morning breeze. The entire world faded around them, leaving only him and her.
Beautiful.
The word was painfully insufficient.
Edith looked exactly as she always had. And yet, today, she was walking toward him, more radiant than any woman he had ever seen.
He smiled, and she smiled back as their gazes locked, neither of them looking away even once.
When she reached him, he stepped forward. He took her hands in his own without hesitation, his thumb brushing gently across her knuckles.
“Ye look…” Words failed him.
Edith smiled, soft and patient.
Aaron let out a quiet breath, his gaze searching hers before settling on the lavender woven through her hair.
“Perfect,” he said at last, his voice scarcely above a whisper. “More perfect than I ever imagined possible.”
The ceremony itself passed in a blur of warmth—Scarlett crying openly throughout, and Caelan standing beside Aaron as Robert guided them through the ancient rites of the binding.
When the binding cloth was finally wrapped around their joined hands, sealing their vows, Aaron felt something inside him settle with a certainty he had never known.
For years, he had convinced himself that duty alone would be enough. That a Laird needed only his lands, his clan, and the responsibilities entrusted to him.
But now, standing beside Edith, her hand bound to his, he realized that he had more to live for. And he had found the person with whom he wished to spend the rest of his life.
The feast stretched long into the evening, filled with music, dancing, and the unmistakable joy of a clan celebrating not one but two unions. Caelan formally declared his intentions toward Violet before the gathered clans, eliciting endless cheers and Scarlett’s triumphant satisfaction.
By the time Aaron finally led Edith away from the celebration, the stars had claimed the sky, and the laughter had softened into something distant behind them.
They climbed the stairs to the east wing, Aaron never once letting go of her hand.
He paused outside the door to his chamber, his hands coming up to cradle her cheeks. His heart was still beating the same unsteady rhythm that had plagued him beneath the binding arch.
Ye are mine.
Warmth spread through him as he looked into her eyes.
Truly mine.
“Are ye ready?” he asked her softly, his voice carrying none of the control he had spent fifteen years perfecting.
He wanted her. He craved her. There was no point in hiding it.
Edith shivered, though the corridor was not cold. She nodded shyly, following him inside.
His chamber greeted them with warmth—candles already lit, casting soft golden light over the stone walls. The bed was neatly made by hands he suspected belonged to Violet.
And the scent…
He breathed it in as the door closed behind them, recognizing it immediately.
Wild lavender.
Edith noticed his reaction, and a small, satisfied smile touched her lips.
