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For a moment, Callan’s jaw tightens, but then, with a heavy exhale, he steps back. His shoulders slump, the fight draining from him as he meets my glare one last time before looking away.
I turn back to Finn, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. “This isn’t over,” I whisper, clinging to the bars as if sheer force of will could tear them apart. “I swear to you, Finn, this isn’t over.”
“This was the only way,” Finn repeats, slower this time.
My gaze darts between him and Callan. “When did you decide to do something so foolish?”
“When Mannie showed me that yer success here ended in my death… and again when I saw the dagger tear through yer flesh,” he mutters, his voice thick with restrained emotion.
Callan adds in a strained whisper, “It should have been me.”
Finn’s head snaps toward him. “No,” he says firmly, his gaze piercing as it shifts back to me. “This was written before we ever drew breath.”
The weight of the prophecy lingers in the air between us. Finn’s expression hardens with a resigned clarity, and his next words strike me like lightning.
“I was always meant to be here. To protect you, as I swore I would. I never made a promise to you I didnae intend to keep.”
A sob tears free from my throat as I shake my head, gripping the bars between us as if I could break the universe itself to undo this moment. “No,” I cry, my voice breaking. “You are so much more than this. More than all the things they’ve summed you up to be. And you know that, Finn. This was not your destiny.”
His hand tightens around mine, his touch grounding me even as my world falls apart.
“I would die a thousand deaths for you, Triona,” he says, with a faint smile on his lips. “I would stare death in the face again and again if it meant ye’d live, free and whole.”
“Finn—”
“We dinnae have long,” he interrupts, urgency creeping into his tone. He glances over his shoulder, and I can almost feel the shadows closing in. “He’s not dead, Triona. You have to leave.”
“I can’t!” My voice is raw, shredded by emotion. “How can I be without you? You are the reason I still breathe, Finn. You just became mine.”
I’m fighting against time itself, desperate to hold on to every fleeting second, to keep my grip on the man who is my everything.
“Triona,” Finn says softly, his voice trembling as he cups my hand tighter, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “If there’s one thing you must know—it’s that I’ve never belonged to prophecy, or fate, or anyone else. Only you.”
Each breath scrapes like glass through my chest. Air shouldn’t hurt—but it does.
“You live for more than me,” he whispers. “You live for others—for the world that still needs you. Our love story will outlive us both, I promise you that. Love like ours…” His voice falters. Tears fall in quiet trails. “Love like ours is rare. And it’s infinite.”
“Finn…” I breathe.
“Just for a moment,” I whisper, voice trembling, “let me pretend I can keep you. Selfishly. Let me pretend this world doesn’t exist. Just us. One memory.”
He lets out a breath of a laugh—soft, shaky, still somehow warm. “One memory? To sum up every day I’ve spent with you these seven years?”
I chuckle weakly; the sound cracked with sorrow. “You were always good at the impossible.”
His smile deepens, bittersweet and aching. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it softly, reverently. “Then how about one for the future?”
Callan moves beside me. His hand rests on my back—solid and steady—and for once, I don’t push him away.
“Callan,” Finn says, barely louder than a breath. “Give me the bag.”
Callan hands him a small leather pouch. Finn cradles it carefully, fingers brushing over the worn edge. His eyes lock with mine—and the world stills.
“The last of my dreams.”
With trembling fingers, he lifts a ring from the pouch and slides it onto my finger, the cool metal sending a shiver through me. A sharp breath slips past my lips, and for a moment, the world narrows to just him—his voice, his touch, his unwavering gaze.
Forged from silver, its intricate ivy design winding along the band like a living thing. At its heart, an emerald glimmers, catching the light even in the shadow of despair. It’s as if the ring itself holds a piece of his soul, crafted with a love that defies time.
