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Deidre speaks from her position in the room. “Strength will come not just from the bonds you’ve already formed, but from those yet to be made—alliances forged in adversity and friendships built through trials. Trust that these connections will guide you when the path grows darkest. Trust in one another.”
Mannie nods. “Together, united by bonds forged in fire, in blood, and some even in silence; you may yet find the power to prevail over the forces that seek to undo you.”
Finn
I’m resolved to make good on my promise to mend things with Callan, especially in light of all we’ve uncovered in these past days. There is too much at stake for us to remain divided, and any further delay would only deepen the rift.
The revelations from Mannie and Amelia have laid bare what we may come to face. Alone, we will falter, but together, we may yet succeed. It is a humbling realisation, one that steels my determination. If Callan and I cannot reconcile, it will be more than just our bond that suffers; it could spell ruin for us all.
I find Callan in the stables. The soft, rhythmic sound of a brush moving over a horse’s coat greets me as I step inside.
As I watch him now, I notice something I’ve been too blind to see since coming home: how different he looks and acts. There’s a hardness about him, anger simmering beneath the surface that has only intensified in my absence. I should have considered that before I did what I did.
The unease from earlier still lingers in the air. At last, I clear my throat. “Have you calmed down enough to talk like civilised humans? Or do I need to brace for another fight?”
Callan stiffens but doesn’t turn. “Depends,” he mutters, his tone clipped. “Have ye come to tell me it was all in jest?” He finally looks at me, his gaze sharp but less volatile than it was before. “My sister, Finn? Ye’ve got a rare nerve, I’ll grant ye that.”
I square my shoulders, keeping my voice steady. “Go on, Callan. Get it all out. I’ll take yer anger. I’ll take it because I know I deserve some of it.”
The tension thickens between us. I gesture toward the open doors. “If ye’d rather settle this with fists, let us step outside. Perhaps that will help you find reason?”
Callan’s eyes narrow, his fists already clenched, and he gives a sharp nod in return. “Aye, Finn. Perhaps that’s exactly what I need.”
We step into the night; the chill doing little to quell the heat of our unresolved words. The brittle leaves beneath our boots crunch in the stillness as we move away from the stable, the open air before us becoming an unspoken battleground. Callan halts, turning to face me fully. His expression is a tempest of anger, frustration, and something deeper—a worry he cannot quite mask.
“D’ye even understand what it means if ye muck this up?” he asks, his voice low but laden with emotion.
“Aye,” I say firmly, my gaze unwavering. “More than you might think. I’ve thought of little else, Callan.”
Without a word, we strip off our shirts, down to our trousers, each movement deliberate and tense.
“Why risk everything for her? She is my blood, and if ye hurt her, there’s no forgiveness.”
“I willnae harm her, Cal,” I affirm, voice calm and controlled. “That ye’d even suggest I could be so lowly cuts deep. You know me better than that. ”
Callan lets out a bitter laugh. He shakes his head, his eyes boring into mine. “Do I? Ye’ve been keeping this to yerself, letting me walk around like a fool while ye’ve been nursing these feelings for my sister. It feels as though ye’ve betrayed me.”
“It is no betrayal,” I say, stepping closer, my hands open and unthreatening. “I did not seek this, Callan. I did not choose it. But I refuse to continue denying what I feel.”
The two of us begin to circle each other, tension crackling in the air. Our movements are sharp, eyes locked as though waiting for the other to strike first.
Callan’s expression hardens, his anger flaring anew. “And puttin’ on this farce just to bed my sister is worth our friendship?”
Callan throws a testing jab, his fist cutting through the air just shy of my shoulder. I shift to the side, my fist snapping out in a feint that sends Callan stepping back.
“In honesty,” I reply, my tone steady. “I’ve never wanted to strike you more than I do right now. I’m not Marcus, and that ye’d dare to compare us confirms ye’re not in your right mind. Triona is not some possession of yers. If you would be so daft as to hate me because I dared to love yer sister, then I would accept the expiry of the friendship.” I throw my arms wide. “There’s naught left to hide. No secret left unturned. What about the ones you so deftly hide?”
Callan’s eyes narrow, indignation flashing. “Ye dinnae ken why I keep half of what I’ve had to, Finn. Secrets are a burden, but sometimes they’re the only way to protect the people ye care about.”
With a sharp motion, Callan lunges forward, his fist connecting solidly with my jaw, the impact cracking through the tense air like thunder. I stagger back a step and reach to wipe a trace of blood from the corner of my mouth. The sting from Callan’s punch lingers, but my willpower remains unshaken.
“And I kept this one to myself even as it tore me apart. I spent countless days believin’ that I was only a hindrance to her. That she deserved a better man than I could ever be. But she showed me otherwise; she chose me. Made me see I belong beside her, not behind her. Triona is as much mine as I am hers, and for her sake, you must make peace with it. No other man alive will ever love her the way I do. I’ll spend every breath of my existence proving the depth of my faithfulness to her, and to anyone who dares to question it.”
I pivot sharply, my fist driving into Callan’s midsection with precision, the blow forcing the air from his lungs. He staggers but recovers, regains footing, and swings back in a wide arc that I deftly evade. I counter with a sharp uppercut that connects cleanly with his jaw; the impact leaving us both momentarily breathless as we steady ourselves for the next blow.
The sharp edge of his anger dulls into something heavier as he swipes a hand across his bruised jaw, still smarting from my last punch. His gaze lingers, a mix of frustration and reluctant deference. “Lovin’ her means puttin’ her first, Finn. Always. Are ye ready for that? She deserves the best, and I willnae stand by and let her settle for less. I made that vow to my parents.”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, Callan. Puttin’ her first is the only way I know how to live. Every choice I’ve made, every damn thing I’ve done, has been for her. No one will ever love her as completely, as fiercely, or as endlessly as I do.” I don’t hesitate, driving forward with another sharp blow that connects with Callan’s jaw. The impact drives him back a step, his balance wavering before he falls to the ground.
