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I shoot him a glare sharp enough to slice bark off a tree, but he just grins wider, completely unbothered.

The bastard lives to test me.

“Can’t say I blame you,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting back to Triona. “She’s absolutely stunning. But pick your jaw up before she notices, aye? Wouldn’t want her thinking you’re about to pounce on her right here in front of the family.”

I clench my jaw, praying he’ll shut up before anyone else catches on. But the quiet chuckle that slips from him says otherwise—he’s enjoying this far too much.

“Finn? Bran?” Triona’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp enough to jolt me.

“Sorry, Bran willnae stop buzzin’ in my ear. What’d you say?”

She grins, full of fire. “Feel up for a game of hurling?”

I scoff, grateful for the shift in attention—but not enough to stop the corner of my mouth from lifting. “Triona, you might’ve bested yer brother, but—”

She holds up a hand, cutting me off. “I will not be joining in. First of all… I don’t trust that one to keep his wandering hands to himself.” She jabs a finger at Bran.

Immediately, Alex and Callan tense like hounds scenting blood.

Ah. Karma. A fickle, glorious mistress.

Bran’s smirk falters. A flush creeps up his neck as he throws out a nervous scoff. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful, but you’re not ‘I’m ready to meet my maker today’ beautiful.”

He glances over at me as if I might step in and save him. I just raise a brow and let him burn.

“…It was a jest,” Triona adds smoothly, winking. Her tone is light, but the glint in her eyes says she knows exactly how deep inside his head she’s crawled.

Bran lets out a nervous laugh. “All right, I see how you keep these menfolk in line now. Felt as if I was about to have my insides rearranged for a second.”

“Oh, I dinnae ken. Could still happen.” James’s voice rumbles from the side as he strides up beside Bran, cutting through the laughter.

The group goes silent, all eyes on James, who’s staring at Bran with that unflinching look of his, making Bran visibly tense. He’s trying to keep his cool, but I can practically see the sweat rolling down his temple. Finally, James breaks the silence with a booming laugh, slapping Bran on the shoulder.

Bran lets out a dramatic sigh before turning to Triona with a look of mock solemnity. “By all the gods, I solemnly swear to be the picture of restraint in your presence. Pure, untainted innocence.”

Triona steps forward and reaches up, patting him on the head like a tamed pup. “Good boy.”

Bran chuckles, but her voice—soft, teasing—lingers in my mind. Those words echo as if they were whispered just for me, warm breath against my ear. It sends a shiver down my spine so sharply I have to swallow hard and drag my gaze away from her.

Focus.

I turn from the group and head toward the hurleys—the whole reason we’d gathered out here in the first place. I take my time, letting the rhythm of movement steady me while the banter continues behind me.

“Aye, it will be much more enjoyable overseeing this informal match as Brehon,” Triona finishes.

Casey lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Aye, brilliant idea—give Triona unchecked power. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Go on and amuse yourself now, but mark my words—when calamity inevitably befalls you, and the lot of you are stumbling about in utter disarray, you’ll be pleading for my guidance. And, being the benevolent soul that I am, I shall deign to save your sorry hides.”

A chuckle ripples through the small group, a mixture of amusement and reluctant acknowledgment, as if they half-suspect she might actually be right.

I rejoin them just in time to catch Bran elbowing Casey. “She says that like she hasn’t already planned the downfall herself.”

Triona smirks, unbothered. “I prefer the term ‘strategic foresight.’”

I hand off the hurleys, slipping easily back into the circle as the surrounding energy sharpens. The sun is climbing; the field is wide, and the tension—friendly or otherwise—is about to explode in motion.

Her gaze flicks to mine, eyes glinting with mischief. “Now then,” she calls, “how shall we divide the teams?”