Page 135 of The Thief
"She called you Tríona."
A smile flickers across her face. "Childhood nickname. My real name's too long for casual conversation."
"Who else calls you that?"
"Just her. And my dad." Her expression turns wistful. "Haven't heard it in months."
"I like it. Tríona. It suits you."
"Does it?"
"Yeah. Alastríona's formal, proper. Tríona's more... you. The woman who fights in back alleys and argues with crime bosses."
She laughs. "You can use it, if you want. I'd like that."
"Tríona," I test the name on my tongue. I fucking like the way it sounds, and I love the way her eyes darken when I say it.
"Alastríona feels like someone else's name sometimes. Someone I used to be."
"And who are you now?"
"Yours."
A simple answer, but it carries weight. She's not just Killian's daughter anymore, not just Henry's granddaughter. She's mine, and I'm hers, and that matters more than bloodlines or family obligations.
I watch her as she gets dressed, moving carefully around her injuries. The morning light catches the dark silk of her hair, the graceful curve of her neck. She's beautiful, but it's more than that.
She's everything I never knew I was looking for.
A few months ago, I was a broken man carrying ghosts and calling it living. Defined by loss, by the people who'd left me behind. Now I understand what the poets write about, what drives men to madness and greatness in equal measure.
Love—real love, the kind that changes everything.
And the insane part is I might never have found it if Trace hadn't started his war. If he hadn't killed Ava. If he hadn't targeted the Gallaghers. If Henry hadn't needed someone to bring his granddaughter home.
Evil creates good by accident. Destruction leads to salvation.
"What are you thinking about?" Tríona asks, catching me staring.
"You. Us. How fucking lucky I am."
"Lucky?"
"To have found you. To have this." I gesture between us. "Not so long ago, I thought I knew what love was. Turns out I didn't have a clue."
"And now?"
"Now I know. And it's nothing like I expected."
"Better or worse?"
"Terrifying. Overwhelming. The best thing that's ever happened to me."
She comes to me then and settles in my lap despite the chair not really being big enough for both of us.
"I feel the same way. Like I've been sleepwalking my whole life, and you woke me up."
"Good thing. Because I'm not letting you go back to sleep."
