Page 46 of The Warrior's Salvation

I haven't even stopped to think what that monster would've done to me in my apartment if Lochlan hadn't broken the door open and chased him out, and I don’t want to. I don't want to allow that moment to define this one, where Da finally gives his blessing over our love and the pressure of being pushed into marrying Elvin Murphy is lifted. It's too sweet to tarnish.

Clinging to him so tightly I can feel his heart pounding against my cheek, I ask, "Is he dead?" I'm afraid to know what he may say, afraid of what that means about him even though he already told me he's a killer.

When he pinches my jaw and turns my face up to meet his gaze, his eyes are firm. "Never ask me what happens out there." His tone is so severe, not angry or hostile, but stern. "And I promise that you never have to worry about whether your heart is safe or if I'm protecting you." I nod without thinking. I wonder if this is how Mum does it, if she and Da have an arrangement like this too.

"Yes," I whisper, but I know the answer. I see it in his eyes. Darren Connelly is dead at his hands, and my heart can rest at ease that Lochlan will be my protector and shield as long as we are together.

"I think we have an audience," he says softly, brushing his lips over mine again, and I smile. His thumb wipes away a few tears, and I turn, not letting go of his hand, and tuck into his side to face my parents.

Da is still tense, scowling as he walks over to his recliner and sits down. Jasper plops onto one end of the sofa as he puts a single boot on the corner of the coffee table. Dutiful as always, Mum rushes off calling, "Tea soon!" and disappears into the kitchen, and Lochlan guides me to sit at the other end of the sofa, next to him so our bodies are still pressed together.

"Evelyn, we have a wedding to plan." Da's eyes meet mine only briefly, and he looks away as he tugs his tie off, sheds his jacket. "I assume you'll be moving out now… won't need a job anymore."

"What?" I turn to look Lochlan in the eyes, frowning, then face Da again. "What do you mean, I won't need a job? I'm getting a degree in business, just a few classes left. I'm not going to sit around someone's house baking and knitting. I want to have a career and?—"

Lochlan grips my knee hard and sighs. "It's alright, Evie."

My heart is thudding quietly as Jasper's eyes rise to look at me. He shrugs a shoulder and turns to Da. "You have to admit she was the best one we've ever had in that position, Da."

Da rubs his face with both hands, which I now see also have blood on them. He doesn't look happy about the situation, but I know he'll adjust eventually.

"It's just not safe." His unhappy protest only makes Lochlan tighten his arm around my shoulders.

"Evelyn isn't a child, Draco…" The way he defends me warms my soul. I relax into him and rest my head on his shoulder. "We'll hire security. The office needs it anyway." He's not giving Da an option, and that tells me a lot about who plays a bigger role in this game they're engaged in.

Da doesn't seem to like that much, but he grunts out his acknowledgement. Then he stands, slapping the fronts of his knees. "I'm going to wash up before tea." I watch him turn his hands over and look at his bloodied knuckles. Then he walks off, and Jasper stands too.

"I'm exhausted. I'm gonna crash." Jasper doesn't even say goodnight or wave goodbye. The evening hunches his frame over as he heads out of the room, and I'm alone with Lochlan for the first time since earlier this afternoon.

Turning to see him better, I splay my hand on his chest thoughtfully. There are so many questions I want to ask him about what happened, where they were, how it went down, but I can't. He asked me not to say a word about it, so I have to respect that. Instead I ask, "What did Da mean by 'we have a wedding to plan’?" I ask him cautiously. He preceded it with a comment about letting Elvin down easily, so I know he's not referring to the arrangement.

"I'm going to marry you, and I told him as much." His arm pulls me closer. I'm not even a little put off by the blood on his hands. I trace the dark purple bruise on his cheekbone and frown.

"You're just announcing that?" My words hang between us in a quiet challenge of his authority, and he scoffs at first, then chuckles. Then his chuckle turns into a laugh that shakes his body.

"Of all the things to fight me over, this is the one you're choosing? The hill you'll die on?" Lochlan's lips still curl into a half smirk as he pulls me tighter against himself, hand cupping my ass.

"You told me to bring my A-game, and why would I let you conquer me that easily?" I can't help but smile at him as his hand slides up my back to my head. He pulls me down until my forehead rests against his, then shuts his eyes.

"I'm a very fucked up man, Evelyn." His voice is quiet now. "Things beyond my control affected me and changed me in ways I don't know how to handle. Be patient with me, and I'll figure it out." His eyes open again and stare into mine. "But I give you my word that I will love you until the day I die, and you will never be safer anywhere else than in my arms."

Our lips touch softly, then eagerly, and I let myself fall off into the moment. He went from being my crush to someone I was scared of, to the driving force of my life. And soon, he will become my husband. I never thought it would go this way, but if I had to go back and do it over, I wouldn't change a thing.

32

EPILOGUE: LOCHLAN

Evie’s lips are warm. That’s the only thing I register for a second. Not the people watching, not the priest behind us, not the weight of a thousand eyes waiting to clap or cry or nod with approval. Just her—kissing me like she means it, like she already knows I’ll never walk away from this.

When she pulls back, her eyes are locked on mine. No hesitation. No nerves. Her hand is still in mine, her fingers firm, sure, like she’s anchoring me there. I don’t need anchoring—but it still helps.

The priest says something final in Irish. I hear my name. Hers. Then it’s done.

We turn. The pews are packed—family, soldiers, killers in suits, and a few men who don’t fit into either category but know their way around a rifle. I spot Ronan near the front, jaw tight, hands behind his back like he’s on watch. He meets my eyes for a second, gives the faintest nod. Nothing soft. Just a silent agreement.

Outside, the wind bites. Early spring, damp and sharp. The sky’s all gray and low clouds, but no rain—at least not yet. The chapel sits high on the hill, stone walls covered in ivy and moss like it’s been waiting for this day longer than we’ve been alive. The bells above us let out one more slow ring as we walk into the open air.

The courtyard is set up for the reception, tables under a canvas tent, strung with lights that’ll matter more once the sun drops. Old wooden chairs. White linen that already has a table service on it. Flowers everywhere—wild ones mostly, with roses tucked in here and there. Evie’s touch, no doubt. It smells like rain’s coming and someone lit a peat fire nearby.

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