Extended Epilogues

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• A healing touch passed down through her bloodline.
• A secret connection to an ancient Highland myth.

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One year later, MacAlpin Castle

Craig paced back and forth in the corridor outside of the bedchamber that he shared with his wife. Her brothers, James and Edward, paced with him. His sisters in law, Freya and Evelyn, were inside with Morgana as scream after scream reverberated through the wooden portal that separated them. Morgana had gone into labor just as her family had arrived for a visit in expectation of the bairn’s arrival. His sisters in law had ushered Craig out of the room and closed the door behind him. It was taking all his effort not to break the door down.

Craig’s maternal great grandfather, Alasdair, was sitting on a bench that had been brought up for the purpose. Every man present was worried, their faces lined with the fear and concern that they all felt. Craig’s own mother had died in childbirth making the fear increase tenfold, threatening to consume him. Another scream tore through the door and Craig leapt for it, grabbing ahold of the latch. His grandfather reached out a hand and laid it on top of Craig’s.

“Are ye certain, lad?”

Craig met his great grandfather’s eyes. “If this is the end, then I should be with her. I have tae be with her.”

Alasdair nodded, understanding in his eyes. In that moment, Craig was reminded that if anyone understood his pain that moment, it was his great grandfather. Alasdair had lost his only granddaughter, Craig’s mother, to just such a fate. “If ye need me, I am here.” He released Craig’s hand, then nodded again in encouragement. “Ye have yer maither’s strength. Nae matter what happens, ye will get through it.”

Craig straightened his shoulders, nodded, then stepped through the door. Morgana was seated upon a wooden birthing chair, her shift rucked up around her waist, soaked in sweat. Freya knelt between her knees, a wooden bowl with water and clean clothes beside her. Evelyn wiped Morgana’s brow with a damp cloth. “Morgana,” Craig called out to her, moving to kneel beside her.

“Craig,” Morgana panted his name, grabbing his offered hand.

“Me love,” Craig breathed, kissing her forehead.

“Me laird, this is nae done,” an older maidservant hustled forward. “We can see tae her lady’s needs. The birthing is nae place fer a man.”

“I am nae going anywhere,” Craig shook his head in refusal. “Come what may, I will nae leave me wife’s side.”

Morgana looked up into his eyes, agony and appreciation warring with each other.

“Whither thou goest I will go,” he promised with all of his heart. “Neither life nor death shall separate us.”

Tears filled Morgana’s eyes. “I love ye,” she breathed as another contraction tore through her body, and she clenched his hand so hard the bones ground together. A strangled sound erupted from her throat.

Craig positioned himself nearer to her, his legs surrounding her and the birthing chair as he began to rub her back. She leaned her head against his shoulder, moaning as he kneaded the taught muscles in her lower back. “Daes this help?” he asked her softly. He received another moan in answer. Craig took it as the closest thing to an affirmative that he was going to get and continued to massage the tension out of her muscles until another contraction hit.

He felt Morgana bear down again, groaning with pain that turned into another scream. Morgana sobbed as something inside of her shifted and a splash of liquid hit the floor. “The bairn has shifted,” Freya cried out in joyous relief. “Bear down again, Morgana,” she instructed, hope in her eyes where concern had been before.

Morgana obeyed, bearing down again with a loud cry. A bruised and slightly conical head emerged from between her legs. “I see the head,” Freya announced. “Now, Morgana, just one more time, bear down.”

Morgana panted for breath, clung to Craig’s hand as if it were the only thing holding her to the earth, then bore down with such ferocity that she roared like a feral beast. The bairn slid out into Freya’s waiting arms. Freya quickly cleaned the baby’s mouth and nose. The bairn gave out a little squawk, then a loud wail. Morgana laughed in relieved delight at the sound.

Craig let out the breath that he had been holding in a rush of joyous relief. He kissed Morgana’s forehead, tears flowing from both of their eyes as Freya placed their newborn baby onto Morgana’s stomach. “Ye have a braw wee laddie.”

“A son,” Craig breathed. “Ye gave me a son.” He would have been happy no matter what, but a son guaranteed the line of succession would remain in the family. It gave the clan stability.

Morgana stared down into the face of their son with love and awe in her eyes. She caressed the downy tuft of hair at his temple. “Me bonnie wee bairn,” she cooed softly. She offered the infant up her breast and smiled as he latched on, suckling with enthusiasm.

“That is a good lad,” Craig praised, holding his wife in his arms.

Freya continued her work, helping her to deliver the afterbirth, and cleaning the blood from Morgana’s thighs. Once her midwifery duties were done, she removed the afterbirth and bloody rags, handing them to the maidservant. She laid a cloth over the bowl to cover the bloody contents for the sake of discretion. “Let us get the new maither and bairn intae the bed.”

Craig nodded, lifting his wife and child together into his arms, then placed them safely into bed. He tucked them in, pulling the covers up to Morgana’s waist as she held their son, leaning up against the pillows. Once they were settled and decent, Craig gave Freya a nod and she opened the door to let the maidservant out. With the door opening, Morgana’s brothers burst through, unable to contain themselves further.

“Are ye well, lass?” James demanded to know, coming to stand at the foot of the bed.

Morgana smiled at him fondly and nodded. “Aye.”

“There is something that Morgana and I would like tae ask all o’ ye,” Craig announced moving to hold his wife’s hand.

James, Edward, Freya, and Evelyn moved closer to the bed. “What is it?” James asked as he wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist.

“We would like fer ye, all o’ ye, tae be our son’s godparents. Should anything happen tae us, we want the four o’ ye tae watch over him and teach him the ways o’ our people, prepare him tae be the laird that he should be.”

“We agree tae be the wee lad’s godparents,” James answered, smiling proudly down at his little nephew.

“As do we,” Edward also agreed.

“Good,” Morgana replied, smiling at her brothers. “I ken that ye will be as good tae our son as ye are tae me.”

“Always,” James and Edward replied in unison.

“Morgana needs her rest,” Freya informed everyone as she ushered them out of the room. “Ye will have a lifetime tae enjoy yer wee nephew.” James and Edward left the room, followed by Evelyn. Freya turned back at the door. “I will come back and look in on ye soon. Rest. Ye have earned it.” She smiled fondly at the three of them, then closed the door behind herself.

Craig and Morgana turned their gazes back to the tiny bundle in Morgana’s arms, who was now sleeping soundly with a full tummy. “Ye did good, lass,” Craig murmured, as he kissed the top of his wife’s head

“I am glad that ye were here,” Morgana admitted. “

Craig kissed the top of her head once more. He reached out a finger and gently caressed his son’s soft cheek. “What a braw wee laddie ye are,” he murmured. “I will love and protect ye all the days o’ me life. Ye will never doubt that ye are loved, wanted, and cherished. Yer maither and I will see tae it that ye never suffer the same pain that we suffered by the actions o’ our own parents. Fer whither we goest, ye will go. Wither we lodgest, ye will lodge. Our people shall be yer people. Upon this ye may depend, me son, always and ferever.”

“Always and ferever,” Morgana echoed, turning her face up to Craig, she kissed him softly.

They lay there together until Morgana fell asleep. Craig continued to hold the two most precious souls in his life. He could not believe how much had changed in the last two years of his life. He had gone from a man in exile without a family, to being laird of his own clan, discovering the truth about his parents, marrying the woman of his dreams, and becoming a father. He reached out a hand and cupped his son’s tiny head with his palm. “May God and all the saints bless ye and keep ye all the days o’ yer life, blood of me blood, and bone of me bone.” His words echoed back to him from the cold stone of the room, as if it was his father’s voice instead of his own, and in that moment he knew without a doubt that his father had said those same words over him upon his birth.

I was loved, and am loved, it is enough.

He smiled down at his little family with tears in his eyes.

Forever and always, his heart swore as he drifted off to sleep.

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The morning sun spilled in through the high windows of the castle library, casting golden stripes across the floor and warming the stones beneath Niall’s bare feet. The fire in the hearth had long since dwindled to a flicker, and the air held the soft hush of a household waiting for news.

A small figure clung to Niall’s leg like a particularly clingy barnacle.

“Aikin,” Niall said with a long-suffering sigh, dragging one foot across the rug while his other leg—occupied—refused to budge. “Lad, ye ken I cannae walk proper like this.”

“I am walkin’!” his three-year-old declared triumphantly, chin tipped high as he copied Niall’s slow, measured pacing—albeit attached to his father’s calf like a limpet. “We are marchin’. Fer battle!”

“Oh aye?” Niall arched a brow, trying his best to ignore the flutter of nerves in his stomach. “And who are we fightin’, then?”

Aikin gave this due thought, frowning in concentration as he waddled in time with his father’s steps. “Dragons.”

Niall laughed despite himself. “Dragons now, is it? Och, that explains the sword ye were swingin’ earlier like a madman.”

“’Twas a stick.”

“Aye, but ye hit yer Uncle Bhaltair in the knee with it, so I’m fair certain he’ll call it a weapon regardless.”

Aikin giggled, a sweet bubbling sound that filled the room like sunshine. His curly auburn hair bounced with every hop-step, and he kept his little hand tight around Niall’s legs as though the floor might vanish beneath him if he let go.

Niall ruffled the boy’s hair. “Remind me never tae give ye a real sword.”

The pacing resumed. Niall tried to make it look casual, unhurried, but his mind was anything but calm. Somewhere above, behind thick stone walls and wooden doors, Deidra was in labor—again. And though he’d been through this once already, though he told himself again and again that she was strong and everything would be fine, his heartbeat betrayed him.

Aikin craned his head up, squinting. “Da?”

“Aye?”

“Where’s Mama?”

Niall stopped. He crouched, bringing himself eye to eye with his son. “She’s upstairs, remember? With Catriona and the midwife.”

“Is she sick?”

“Nay, love.” He smiled and tapped the boy’s nose. “She’s… makin’ us a gift.”

Aikin’s eyes lit up like stars. “A gift?! What kind?”

“A very special one.” Niall’s voice softened. “One ye’ll get tae hold. Somethin’ ye’ll love.”

“Can I see it now?”

“Nay, nae yet.” Niall stood again, smoothing a hand over his face. “Gifts like this one take a bit o’ time.”

“Oh.” Aikin’s lips puckered in thought. “Like soup?”

Niall coughed to hide a laugh. “Aye. Just like soup. If ye check the pot too early, it’ll just be water and carrots.”

The boy nodded solemnly, apparently satisfied by this culinary metaphor.

They resumed pacing. For a few blissful minutes, it worked. The footsteps, the distraction, the distraction pretending not to be a distraction. Until—

A scream echoed faintly from above.

Niall froze.

Aikin’s hand tightened on his leg. “Was that Mama?”

“Aye,” Niall said, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. “But dinnae worry yerself, lad. That’s just…” He wracked his brain. “She’s… shoutin’ at the soup.”

Aikin blinked at him.

“She does that sometimes,” Niall added. “When the carrots fight back.”

The boy giggled. “Mama’s funny.”

“Aye, she is,” Niall muttered, resuming their route, heart thundering in his chest. “She’s a fierce one, yer mama.”

But the pacing wasn’t helping anymore.

He needed to do something. Anything.

His eyes fell on the chessboard laid out on the low table beside the fire. He scooped Aikin into his arms and set him down before it.

“Right,” he said, forcing cheer into his voice. “Let’s see if ye’ve still got the cleverness tae best me.”

Aikin’s face lit with glee. “I’ll win again!”

“Och, ye cheated last time!”

“I didnae!”

“Well, ye distracted me by spillin’ orange juice down yer tunic, so I’d say that’s close enough.”

The chess pieces tumbled across the board as Aikin’s small hands rearranged the ranks with imperial authority. The knight wobbled precariously before tumbling sideways, skittering across the polished wood like a spooked stallion, before Niall grabbed it and gave it back to him.

“This one’s Sir Horsebottom,” Aikin declared, plucking up a bishop and balancing it precariously atop his own king’s head. “He wears crowns for hats!”

Niall bit the inside of his cheek. “Daring fashion choice.”

“And this—” Aikin grabbed a pawn, spun it three times until it wobbled, then slammed it down so hard the remaining pieces shuddered”—is Lord Wiggles. He defeats enemies by dancing!” To demonstrate, he made the pawn jiggle in a wild circle before sending it careening into Niall’s queen.

“A brutal tactic,” Niall admitted, stroking his chin as if studying a real battlefield. He inched his queen forward with exaggerated caution, letting his fingers tremble for effect. “Perhaps if I… just… here—”

“HA!” Aikin shrieked, seizing his dancing pawn. “Lord Wiggles eats the lady!” The piece smacked against the queen with enough force to send both skittering off the board.

Niall gasped, clutching his chest. “Treachery! Me finest warrior, felled by… by…”

“I am the king,” Aikin said proudly, holding the small wooden piece aloft like a battle trophy.

“Aye, and here I thought I was the laird of this keep.”

“Nope.” The boy grinned wide, revealing the gap from a tooth he’d knocked loose trying to climb a bannister last week. “Ye’re me knight. Knights protect the king.”

“Och, is that how it is?” Niall grabbed him and tossed him into the air, catching him as Aikin shrieked with delight. “Then I best be wearin’ armor at all times!”

“Again! Higher!”

“Ye’ll hit the rafters, laddie!”

A sudden sound stopped him—this time not a scream, but the unmistakable rush of footsteps.

The doors to the library burst open.

Catriona stood in the doorway, cheeks flushed, her apron damp with sweat. Her hands trembled slightly—but her smile was steady.

Niall’s stomach dropped, his heart beating frantically as he raised to his feet.

“Well?” he asked, the word leaving his mouth like a prayer.

Catriona’s eyes sparkled.

“She’s here,” she said. “A girl. And healthy as a wee fox.”

Niall swayed where he stood, laughter tumbling from his chest before he even realized it.

“A lass,” he breathed, eyes stinging. “Deidra?”

“Tired. But well. She’s askin’ fer ye.”

Aikin tugged on his tunic. “Can I come see the gift now?”

Niall pressed a kiss to the crown of Aikin’s head, still dizzy with the news. “Come now, lad,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Let’s go meet yer sister.”

Aikin’s whole face lit up like a candle. “Me gift?!”

Niall chuckled, shifting the boy to his hip as he started for the stairs. “Aye, the best gift ye’ll ever get. But ye have tae be gentle. She’s brand new.”

The castle walls seemed to glow with morning light as they ascended, a warm hush settling over everything. Each step toward Deidra filled Niall with a pulsing sort of joy, like the beat of a drum beneath his ribs. It amazed him, really, how different this moment felt from the first time.

The first had been raw and terrifying, a storm of fear and fierce, desperate love. This time, the love had only grown. Softer in some ways. Stronger in others.

The bedroom door stood slightly ajar. Catriona had left it open for them, and Niall pushed it gently with his shoulder.

The cry met them instantly. Thin and high, insistent and alive.

Aikin wriggled in his arms. “Is that her?!”

“Aye,” Niall murmured, kissing his temple. “That’s her voice. Go see her, lad.”

He set Aikin down and the boy hurried across the room, small feet slapping softly on stone, his curls bouncing with each step. Deidra was propped against a mound of pillows, her face pale but glowing, her gown rumpled and her hair a halo of tangled red. The baby lay in the crook of her arm, pink-faced and wailing.

Aikin climbed carefully onto the bed and leaned close, his nose nearly brushing the baby’s. He stared for a long moment, mouth slightly open in awe.

Then, very solemnly, he leaned in and kissed her forehead.

Deidra laughed, breathless and warm. “Well then. Someone’s smitten already.”

Niall crossed the room more slowly, taking her in. Every inch of her, every sound, every breath. He reached the bedside and dropped to his knees beside her, unable to speak for a moment. He looked from her flushed cheeks to the baby’s red face to Aikin’s wide, wonder-filled eyes. His heart was full to bursting.

“She has yer eyes,” Deidra said softly, brushing her fingers across the baby’s cheek.

Niall leaned forward, his calloused hand cradling her cheek. When his lips met hers, time seemed to pause—the world narrowing to the warmth of her mouth, the faint tremor of her breath against his skin.

He kissed her slowly, deliberately, savoring the way her lips surrendered to his, the familiar taste of honeyed tea and something uniquely Deidra that always made his chest tighten.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the past, not the battles fought, not the scars they bore. Only this, the steady beat of her heart against his, the quiet certainty that she was here, alive and whole, and his.

As they parted, Niall lingered, his breath mingling with hers in the narrow space between them. His thumb traced the curve of her cheekbone, rough skin catching slightly on the softness of hers.

He studied her face—the faint freckles dusting her nose like constellations he’d memorized long ago, the way her lashes fluttered against the pink of her cheeks. But it was her eyes that held him captive, those familiar depths brimming with a love so fierce it made his chest ache. In their reflection, he saw every shared sunrise, every whispered promise, every battle fought side by side.

Then he turned to their daughter.

“May I?” he asked.

Deidra nodded, and he gently gathered the baby in his arms. She was impossibly small, so soft he was half afraid she might melt if he held her too tightly. Her cries quieted at the change of arms, little mouth working in the air like she had more to say.

The moment the baby curled her tiny fist around his finger, Niall felt the air leave his lungs in a rush.

That same dizzying wave of love crashed over him—precisely as it had when he’d first held Aikin, swaddled and squalling in the crook of his arm three years prior. Only now, he recognized the sensation before it could knock him breathless—this terrifying, exhilarating freefall into devotion.

He traced the petal-soft curve of the baby’s cheek with one calloused knuckle, marveling at how something so small could unravel him so completely. Her nose wrinkled, mirroring Deidra’s expression when she laughed. The recognition sent a pang through him.

How had he ever feared this?

Aikin had taught him the sharp joy of fatherhood—the scraped knees and midnight fevers that made his hands shake. But this little girl slipped into the hollow spaces of his heart he hadn’t known were empty.

Deidra’s tired voice broke through his reverie. “Ye’re crying again.”

Niall didn’t wipe his tears.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered.

“I want tae name her Elsie,” Deidra said, watching him with tear-bright eyes.

He smiled through a rush of emotion. “Elsie MacRae. A fine name.”

He lifted one of the baby’s tiny fists to his lips and kissed it. Her fingers curled instinctively around his thumb again, and his chest squeezed tight.

Aikin had nestled against Deidra now, his head tucked against her side. “Mama,” he said quietly, stroking her arm with a chubby hand. “Did it hurt when Elsie came?”

Deidra chuckled softly, her voice still hoarse. “A bit, love. But I’d dae it again and again tae meet her.”

Aikin considered this gravely. “Did ye fight the carrots tae get her?”

Niall let out a surprised bark of laughter, then quickly smothered it when Elsie twitched in his arms. “Nay, lad. Nay carrots. Though if she did, we’d have sent our entire army tae help her.”

“Da,” Deidra scolded gently, though her eyes danced.

Niall sat back on the stool beside the bed, cradling Elsie as her little face settled into a pout. He watched her in quiet wonder as Deidra and Aikin spoke in low, giggly tones. It struck him then, in a way it hadn’t before, just how much Aikin resembled her. The same hazel eyes, that soft auburn hair. The same fierce curiosity.

“He’s just like ye,” Niall murmured, catching Deidra’s gaze. “The way he questions everything. And that same fire in his stare when he daesnae get the answer he wants.”

She grinned. “He’s stubborn as ye, too.”

“Aye, he is.”

He looked back to Elsie, whose eyes had opened again—deep blue, startling against her delicate features. Not the murky blue of newborns, but something vivid, something alive. Like cut sapphires catching sunlight.

Niall sucked in a quiet breath. “Her eyes…”

Deidra leaned forward slightly. “What about them?”

“They’re… They’re unreal. Like they see straight through me.”

Deidra’s expression softened. “Aye. She sees her da. That’s love, that is.”

Niall looked down again, heart twisting. He began to hum—a quiet, gentle tune he’d heard a hundred times before. It was the lullaby Deidra used to sing to Aikin when he was just a baby, all sighs and sleepy smiles.

This time, the melody came from him.

Elsie blinked slowly, then yawned, and within moments, she had drifted into sleep, a fragile weight against his chest.

He rocked her slowly, breath catching in his throat.

Aikin, too, had fallen asleep beside Deidra, his little hand still resting on her arm. Her fingers threaded through his curls as she leaned back into the pillows.

Niall stood slowly, carefully, and carried Elsie across the room to the bassinet Catriona had readied by the window. He placed her gently within, brushing one last kiss to her downy head before returning to Deidra’s side.

They sat together in the hush, the fire crackling low, the room brimming with warmth and quiet joy.

“They’re perfect,” Deidra whispered.

“They are,” Niall agreed, slipping his hand into hers.

“Imagine,” she said, turning her head toward him, eyes twinkling. “Ye didnae even want tae be a faither.”

He made a noise deep in his throat. “Dinnae ken who ye’re talkin’ about. I love bein’ a faither.”

Deidra arched a brow. “Ye dae now.”

Niall leaned in and kissed her—not with heat, but with reverence. With thanks.

“I’m lucky,” he said softly, pulling back just far enough to see her. “Lucky because me bairns have ye fer a maither.”

She exhaled shakily, tears welling again. “I’m happy, Niall. Truly. Fer the first time in a long while… I feel whole. There is naething else I’d ever ask fer.”

The End.

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• While running errands for her stepmother a resilient young woman is cornered by dangerous men—only to be rescued by a mysterious Scottish laird. Before he can learn her name, she vanishes into the crowd. Haunted by her courage and beauty, the laird hosts a grand ball to draw her out of hiding,

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He crept into her bedchamber at dawn. As Kieran slipped under the coverlets, wrapping his arms around her, Alina moaned.

“Is it time?” she breathed, hardly awake. “Dae I have tae get up already?”

“Nae, me love,” he whispered back into her hair. “It is only dawn.”

With her eyes still closed, Alina frowned. “Then what are ye doing here?”

“I needed tae see ye.”

Blinking her eyes open, she gazed up at him, struggling to adjust to the light. “Ye ken, ye are making a bit o’ a habit o’ this waking me at dawn business. I hope I dinnae have tae suffer this fer the rest o’ our marriage.”

Beaming a grin at her, he chuckled. “When we’re married, I’ll nae be letting ye out o’ me sight.”

“Then how will ye sleep?” A slow smile crept to her lips.

“Even when ye are hardly awake, ye still cannae help yer witty humor,” he replied with a grin of his own.

Moira had been moved to her own room a few nights ago. As was tradition, the bride-to-be was now to have her own bedchamber, and besides, the room she now occupied would be her own private quarters going forward. Alina had been surprised at that. She imagined, once they were married, that she would sleep with Kieran, given she was his wife.

“Ye will still share his bed,” Lilly had told her. “But it is custom fer a wife tae also have her own bedchamber.”

Alina had struggled to sleep the previous night, for she was simply too excited. She had tossed and turned in a never-ending quest to find a comfortable position, but it had been in vain. At some point, exhaustion had taken over, and she had finally slipped into slumber, which was why she was so tired.

“Ye have tae leave,” she moaned. “It is far too early. And besides, someone might come in and find ye here.”

“Ye cannae have it both ways,” he replied, a smile in his voice. “Either it’s too early, or I might be discovered. Which is it?”

“The first one. Definitely the first one.”

“All right, me love,” he said, pulling her in close. “Then go back tae sleep.”

Alina nuzzled herself into his solid warm chest, and once more closed her eyes and slipped into peaceful slumber, feeling more serene now he was by her side.

She woke some time later, and stretching, was surprised to find Kieran wide awake and gazing down at her.

“Have ye been awake this whole time?”

He smiled. “Indeed. I love tae watch ye sleep.”

She sighed with contentment. Moving herself up so she could reach him, she kissed his lips tenderly.

“Ye shouldnae start that. Ye ken I cannae control mesel’ when I’m around ye.”

She grinned mischievously at him. “I ken.”

And then she lowered her lips to his again. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, roving about as the desire between them grew. Alina felt her stomach flip at the sensations he elicited from her, while his desire became more obvious as the kiss grew more desperate.

Pulling away from her hurriedly, Kieran tugged at her nightgown. Alina frantically pulled it over her head with Kieran’s help, until she lay naked beside him. He wasted no time, for a second later, his tongue lashed against her nipple, causing Alina to gasp and arch her back, pressing her breast into him as she ached for more.

Over and over his tongue flicked, her tiny bud peaking beneath his soft lips. His hand moved down her flat stomach, but there was no tenderness this time. Nor did she want it. She was too eager for his touch, his caress, and the places she knew he would take her.

“Och, Alina,” he growled, the deep tone vibrating from his throat. “Ye are always so ready for me.”

She felt her warm slickness as his fingers found the tiny nub, and then gasped and moaned as he moved them back and forth over her.

“Oh, God,” she panted, as the sensation of what he was doing to her drove her completely wild.

Opening her legs wider, her hips writhed as she felt herself climbing already. She was eager to reach that blissful state, for she could not remember wanting him as desperately as she did now.

He moved faster against her most delicate parts, her breath hitching as he lifted her higher and higher. She could feel herself reaching the very cusp already, and holding her breath, she dug her fingers into his arms in desperation for something to hold on to.

His tongue lashed, his fingers moved up and down against her, she held the breath in her lungs and her entire body tensed as she waited for the feeling that would carry her.

“Ah,” she moaned loudly, as the explosion crashed around her, her body spasming as the sensation of hot and cold and euphoria flooded her entire being.

As the ripples continued, Alina wanted more, and without waiting another second, she pushed Kieran off her, forcing him onto his back.

He looked both surprised and intrigued, but when she clambered onto his body, straddling her legs on either side of her hips, he was delighted.

“Och, aye. I like this. I like this very much.”

Alina grinded her wet warmth against his already hardened manhood as she gazed down at him, her desire plain to see. Reaching up, he caressed both her bosoms, causing another moan to leave her lips as his fingers flicked across both her nipples at the same time.

But there was something else she wanted far more than that. Reaching down, she took his huge shaft in her hand, and, hitching herself up a little, she gently guided him inside her.

Lowering herself down, the most exquisite sensation rushed through her, and then, she was eager for more. Pressing down on her knees, she lifted herself up and down, slowly at first. Kieran then took hold of her hips and helped her.

They found their rhythm, their bodies moving together as one. With their eyes locked, and lost in a world only they occupied, they climbed together. Kieran thrusted up as she slid down, and as his desperation grew, so did their lovemaking. Without any warning at all, and in one swift movement, he grabbed her body and rolled her onto her back.

Looking down at her, he growled, “Ye’re mine.”

“And ye’re mine,” she whispered back.

Kieran then lost all control and thrust into her over and over. Alina climbed once more, her body tightening around him, and as they reached their peak together, they both cried out as the explosion swallowed them both whole.

He had been lying beside her for a half an hour afterwards when a knock came on the door.

“It is time, Alina,” Isla said, her voice sounding muffled.

Alina spun her head to look at Kieran, who, with a huge grin, stifled a chuckle.

“She cannae find ye in here. Ye have tae go.”

Leaning towards her, he gave her a tender kiss on her lips, before clambering out of the bed. Hurriedly pulling his clothes on, his gaze never left hers, and when he was done dressing, he hurried back to her.

“What are ye daeing?” she hissed. “Ye have tae go? How are ye going tae get out?”

Kieran hitched his eyebrows. “Och, I have me ways.”

He then kissed her again, before heading toward the fireplace.

Alina frowned at his actions, for she had no idea what the devil he was doing. She watched as he moved his hand under the mantle. He then pressed something, and the wall at the side of the fireplace gave way.

Her mouth fell open. “Och, me God. There is a secret door?” she balked.

“I told ye, I’d find a way.”

But then Alina frowned. “How often have ye used that door since I have been here?”

His grin widened even more. “Ye’ll never know. Now. Get ready. I’ll see ye at the altar.”

The End.

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Spring had finally arrived, much to the delight of everyone in the castle. The gardens were coming into bloom, fresh leaves were forming on the trees, and snow was melting on the highest peaks of the mountains in the distance.

Edward gazed out of his study window with a sense of satisfaction as he took it all in. He could say he was lucky to be where he was, but there were many things that had taken far more than luck.

Indeed, luck had brought Evelyn into his life, but it had taken hard work and determination to get her to break down the walls she had built around herself and to trust him. It had also taken more than luck to integrate himself into a clan that resented him, given it was a member of his family who had killed their laird. Nor had luck been on his side when Laird Wallace had arrived at the gates, wanting to battle for clan Campbell’s honor.

No. He had been thrown into a situation that could easily have overwhelmed him. Instead, he had made his own luck, and things had fallen into place. He had received letters from both James and his father over the last months. With his father’s sound advice, Edward had managed to set the clan’s finances in the right direction. It was going to take some time to get them entirely secure, but he was making great headway.

His father’s last letter had bolstered Edward’s confidence, as well as given him a sense of pride. Particularly his father’s parting words.

Ye cannae ken how proud I am of ye, me son. I ken ye didnae think ye were ready fer this role. And perhaps ye were right. But then, nay man is ever ready. If we waited until we were, naething would ever get done.

Instead, ye took the mantle o’ responsibility, unsure o’ the outcome. That is how a man is formed, how one gains courage, and how one learns and realizes their strengths. Ye have brought great honor tae me as a faither, fer I couldnae be prouder o’ ye.

And his father was not wrong, for Edward certainly had not felt ready for the role he had been forced into. Not then, at any rate. Facing the obstacles put before him had shown him his true character, and for that, he would always be grateful.

Evelyn wrote regularly to Freya and Morgana. While she did not tell him all that the lasses discussed in their missives, she was eager to share news if she felt he might want to hear it. Like, how Freya had begun implementing some of the healing techniques she had learned from Fergus when she had stayed at the castle. Or how Morgana had decided she might someday want to visit France, and had thus begun learning the language.

“Perhaps we could go with her,” Evelyn had said at the time. “I think France would be a delightful adventure.”

“And who would look after the clan if we left?” Edward had smiled.

“Och, Edward. The councilmen are capable enough. Besides, we wouldnae be gone forever.”

Clearly, she desired to go, and thus, Edward had agreed that as soon as he had the financial status of the clan back to what it ought to be, they would sit down and make a plan.

The castle had settled back to normal, but even better. Gilroy was now left under the watchful eye of Craig, who reported faithfully to Edward. However, being the easily led man Gilroy was, he was eager to please, and willingly did anything that Craig asked of him.

Since the battle that day, the man had not set a foot wrong. He also continued to apologize to Edward at every opportunity afforded to him. The Council, however, had agreed with Edward, that the man had to be stripped of his privileges as a councilman. As apologetic as Gilroy was, Edward still did not trust him with the private decisions that were made there.

Instead, he had been put to work in the stables with the horses..

“Ye’ll be glad tae ken,” Craig said one afternoon last week, “that our favorite traitor seems tae be fitting right intae his new role.”

Edward lifted his eyebrows with interest. “Go on.”

“I was down at the stables this morning, like every other morning, doing me usual checks on Gilroy. Before I found him, the stable master pulled me aside. He looked determined tae talk tae me.”

“What did he say?” Edward pressed.

“Apparently, Gilroy is a natural with the horses. He praised his hard work with the mundane jobs like mucking out and stacking hay, but he also said that the beasts seemed tae love him. His exact words were, ‘he has a way with them.’ Which,” Craig smirked, “came as quite a surprise tae me.”

“Indeed,” Edward replied. “Well, sometimes the gods have a way o’ getting us tae where we need tae be.”

Craig grinned widely at that remark, for both men knew Edward was referring to far more than Gilroy’s abilities with horses.

“Indeed, they dae,” Craig agreed.

Since the battle, Edward had also received a letter from Laird Wallace. It had been clear, at the end of that horrible day, that the man was humble enough to know when he was in the wrong, and he had been profusely remorseful for his actions and for believing Thomas and Gilroy with no other evidence.

It appeared, however, that the laird was still struggling with his decision, for his letter was full of regret and apologies.

Laird Campbell,

Laird Wallace

Edward had shared the letter with the Council, who, like himself, had been both impressed and relieved. Clan Wallace did indeed have a formidable army. They were a strong and tightly bound clan. And, as Michael said after Craig had read the letter out to the councilmen, “I’d sooner be beside them than against them.”

A notion that was shared by all the men present from their murmured agreements and nodding heads.

Edward had replied to Laird Wallace, thanking him for his kind missive. He had also relayed that he and Evelyn would be delighted to visit him, and that he would arrange that in the coming months.

And so, still gazing out into the gardens, Edward was satisfied that peace now reigned. More than it ever before.

He turned and was about to sit at his desk to address some paperwork, when a knock came on his study door.

“Enter,” Edward called out.

The door opened and Craig entered the room. He had a frown on his face, as though confused.

“What is it?” Edward said.

“I came looking fer ye. Are ye nae meant tae be at the stables?”

In a great rush, he remembered that he and Evelyn were taking a ride out.

“God’s teeth,” he said, eliciting a smirk from Craig as he hurried around his desk. “Where is she?”

“Lady Evelyn is where she is supposed tae be,” Craig teased, following a hurrying Edward out of the study. “At the stables. Waiting upon ye.”

Evelyn was sat upon her mare when Edward hurried across the cobblestones toward her.

“Did ye forget about me?” she grinned down at him.

Edward took the reins from a young stable hand and mounted Archer, before turning to look at her contritely. “I’m sorry, little bird. I got lost in me own head.”

She smiled lovingly at him then. “Well, I suppose there’s nae finer place tae get lost, I suppose. Are ye ready?”

“I am now,” he quipped back.

Pulling on her reins, she giggled at him, and then the two proceeded towards the castle gates.

It was a beautiful day, a rare occasion in the Highlands of Scotland. The sun beamed from a light blue sky, and though it was still cool, it was comfortable. They rode out of the castle and took the horses up and across the glens.

“I’ll race ye,” Edward said.

But Evelyn shook her head. “I cannae race ye. Nae this day.”

Looking confused, he said, “Why nae?”

She smiled at him and said, “I want tae just enjoy the day as it is.”

Edward nodded. “As ye wish, little bird.”

They rode for another hour, the soft breeze pulling at their clothes and hair. As they reached a small group of trees, Evelyn said, “Let us rest here. I am feeling a little tired now. Besides,” she nodded at the babbling brook, “the horses could dae with a drink.”

Once dismounted, they led the horses to the brook, and then both of them settled on the grass beside it. They were high up on a hill with land spread out before them for as far as they eye could see. The glens and trees were every color of green and brown, with soft hues of purple where lavender and thistles grew wildly.

“It is so very beautiful here,” Evelyn sighed, gazing out across the land.

Edward pulled his eyes from the scene ahead of them and looked over at his wife. With her soft smile, and the bloom in her cheeks from the ride, she positively glowed.

“Nae as beautiful as the woman who sits beside me,” he murmured.

Turning to him, her gaze was full of tenderness. “It has certainly been a journey, Edward.” The green of her eyes seemed to sparkle as she continued. “And now, we have secured the Campbell’s future.”

Her words were a little strange, and hitching his eyebrows, he said, “Indeed we did that when we entered the chapel and spoke our wedding vows.” He shook his head a little. “So much has happened, it feels like a life time ago now.”

Evelyn then moved her hand and placed it on her stomach. “It daes. And we did. But now,” she gazed down at her belly, eliciting a gasp from Edward at his sudden realization of her actions, “it is even more secure.”

“We are going tae have a child?” he blurted, his eyes as wide as saucers.

She laughed softly at his reaction and nodded. “Aye, me love. Ye’re going tae be a faither.”

Tenderly, he lifted his hands and held her face. Bringing his lips to hers, he planted the softest kiss on her mouth.

“Have I ever told ye how much I love ye?” he cried, his heart so full of love for her, he felt it was about to burst.

“All the time,” she murmured back.

The End.

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There was a moment in time when Freya had thought this day would never come. She had never given much thought to her wedding day before—even as a child, she had never pictured it, since she had always thought she would spend her entire life in the convent. Once she left, although she imagined one day she would wed, she could never picture it. She had never met the right man.

Until now. This past month, she had been called to make decision after decision for the ceremony and the feast, and though through it all, she had Morgana’s help and Kathryn’s final say in everything, the preparations for her wedding had exhausted her.

What did she know about fabrics and colors? What did she know about banners and flowers, seating arrangements and musicians? Though Edward, Morgana, and James questioned her daily on the history of the allied clans, a month was nowhere near enough to have the knowledge they did, and so she didn’t even know who her guests were. Morgana’s teachings on manners and tasks that needed to be carried out by the ladies of the clan had helped, too, but once again, Freya felt as though she would need a lifetime to remember everything.

In the end, it was Evelyn who helped her the most. Stranded as she was in Clan MacGregor for the near future, given her uncle had died and she had no close relatives, she had little to do other than help Freya and despair over her own upcoming wedding.

That morning, as Freya let the maids dress her in a beautiful silk gown, a deep green, pin up her fiery hair, and prepare her for the ceremony, Evelyn sat by the window in Freya’s chambers, staring out into the distance. She tended to do that often; Freya had noticed it before, gazing out into the valley below with an empty stare, as though she could hardly see what was before her. Sometimes, she let her sit there for a while until she returned to herself. That time, though, she excused herself from the maids’ efforts and walked over to her to place a hand on her shoulder.

Startled, Evelyn jumped before looking up at Freya with a small, hesitant smile. “Forgive me… me attention wandered.”

“That’s quite alright,” Freya assured her. “Are ye?”

“Am I what?”

“Alright?”

“Aye,” said Evelyn. “I’m only thinking that in a month, I will be in yer position.”

“And that daesnae please ye?”

Evelyn fell silent, though Freya knew the truth. It didn’t please her at all. Despite everything, Alastair had been her beloved uncle and James had killed him. Not only that, but now she was forced to marry Edward in a haste, since Clan Campbell was left entirely without a leader. Edward had stepped up to fill the role James had left wide open, while Evelyn had stepped up to marry the man who had helped destroy her family, her clan.

“I’m sure Edward will be a good husband,” Evelyn said, ever the diplomat.

Before Freya could assure her that she could say anything she pleased to her, that she was there to listen, the door opened and Kathryn entered the room—like always, with an air of superiority about her that she never seemed to shed.

“Freya,” she called, and Freya’s blood ran cold. It wasn’t often that Kathryn addressed her, even now. “May I speak with ye?”

Freya exchanged a quick glance with Evelyn, and she could tell they were both wondering the same thing. Would Kathryn try one last time to rid the family of Freya? Could she truly go that far?

Reluctantly, Freya followed Kathryn into the next room, where the bed stood. She didn’t want to stray too far from the others, though she supposed that if Kathryn had truly decided to harm her, she still could.

Kathryn took a deep breath—and then said nothing. She parted her lips, but no words came out, again and again, until she finally sighed in frustration. Freya watched her carefully, but save for the clench of her jaw, nothing gave away her mood.

“Alright,” Kathryn said. “Here it is. Thank ye.”

Freya blinked in surprise a few times, and then it was her turn to be speechless. Had she heard Kathryn correctly? Surely, it couldn’t be!

With a roll of her eyes, Kathryn turned around as though that was all she ever wanted to say to Freya. But then, as she approached the anterior room, she paused and glanced over her shoulder at her. “I’ll always be grateful ye saved me son. Welcome tae the family.”

With that, she was gone, and Freya could only stand there and watch her retreating back in shock.

Though Kathryn had been more docile as of late, remorseful of her actions, Freya had never expected to hear those words from her. Even now, she had expected her to be combative, to want to send her away through any means necessary, but she had proven her wrong.

Perhaps there is hope fer us all.

As she stood there, trying to process that interaction, Evelyn’s voice called out to her. “Freya! It’s time!”

Once again, Freya froze. She had prepared for this moment; she had done everything in her power to prepare herself for the day when she would have to walk to the chapel at the very edges of the castle grounds and marry James in front of his family and the council. Even now that they had accepted her, even now that they had given her and James permission to wed after she had saved his life, she knew their minds had not completely changed about her. She was still a commoner, still nothing but a healer in their eyes, and she would have to fight tooth and claw to prove herself to them.

Evelyn appeared at the doorway, the small smile on her lips falling when she saw Freya.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Taking a deep breath, Freya shook her head and her thoughts out of it. “Naething. Naething, I’m fine. Let us head tae the chapel.”

Nodding, Evelyn followed her out of the room, where Morgana was waiting for them. When she saw Freya, she gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth.

“Ye look so bonnie, Freya!” she said, pulling her into an embrace that almost crushed her ribs. “James will be so excited tae see ye.”

Freya could only hope so. She knew how much he liked green on her, and that was precisely why she had chosen it for the wedding. And if, by the end of the night, he ended up tearing it off her, then all the better.

The three of them headed out of the keep and through the castle grounds to the small chapel. The walk there felt endless, as though time and space had both stretched to make it impossible for her to reach her destination, and her heart beat so fast she feared it would leap straight out of her throat. But in the end, she made it to the small, but opulent building, with its gilded decorations and stained-glass windows.

She didn’t know when she had come to think of a place like that as small. If anything, it was three times the size of the chapel back in her village, which was only big enough for the villagers and was made out of humble stone and wood. She was slowly getting used to the castle and her life in it, it seemed—few things in there surprised her anymore.

Outside, James was already waiting for her, flanked by Edward and his father, proud in his clan’s colors of red and green. Kathryn stood by her husband’s side, and though she was not smiling, she wasn’t frowning either.

The moment Freya’s gaze met James’ her breath caught in her throat. Under the morning sun, his green eyes shone with happiness and his hair resembled precious amber. His smile, when he saw her, was so wide that Freya couldn’t help but smile back, beaming at him with joy.

James held out his hand for her to take, and Freya let him lead her inside, where the council and the generals waited to witness their union. All eyes were on Freya as they walked down the aisle to the priest, and Freya couldn’t help but grip James’ hand in a vice, terror rising like bile in the back of her throat. She wished that at least her mother had been there, to have someone who knew her and cared for her smiling at her from the crowd. She had written her a long letter to recount all that had passed and to invite her to the nuptials, but her mother had declined. She had sent back words of joy and commotion for her daughter but declined, for she lived a retired life, and the trip would have been too arduous for her at her age. In return, though, she had invited the newlywed couple to visit her at the convent, so that James could complete his pilgrimage and so that she could meet him and give them a holy blessing.

When they finally reached the altar, James turned to her with a smile, leaning close to whisper in her ear. “Ye look magnificent. Everyone here thinks so, I’m sure.”

Freya’s cheeks heated at the compliment, though she was certain James was wrong about everyone else. Surely, they were only staring because of her humble origins, because they didn’t think she belonged there.

But then, Freya caught Morgana’s and Edward’s smiles, and saw that even their father seemed happy, dabbing at the corner of his eye with the back of his hand as he looked at James. And James, next to her, was smiling so brightly, everything else around him seemed to be cast in shadow.

“Ye’re almost stuck with me now,” James whispered in her ear just as the priest began the ceremony, his tone light and teasing. “Ye have only a few seconds tae run.”

Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, her lips twitching into an amused smile, Freya only shook her head. There was nowhere else in the world she would rather be than by his side.

The End.

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Isla was lying in bed, feeling terribly nauseous again when there was a light tapping at the door.

“Come in, Deidra,” she called, recognizing her sister-in-law’s way of knocking immediately.

The door opened and Deidra’s pale, beautiful face appeared around the corner. “Can I come in? I heard ye’re ill again. Is there anythin’ I can dae fer ye?”

“Aye, come in,” Isla told her, waving her over to the bed. “Come and keep me company fer a while, ye might take me mind of feelin’ so awful.”

Deidra came and sat on the edge of the bed, her large, dark brown eyes, so like Ewan’s it was almost uncanny, full of worry. “Is it the same sickness as before?” she asked sympathetically, patting Isla’s hand. She and Isla had formed a close bond, and Isla regarded her as the sister she never had had but wished for. Since marrying Ewan, she felt she had finally gained the loving family she had dreamed of. It was no longer just her and Gregory.

Isla nodded tiredly in answer to her question, still feeling queasy. “Aye, I just wantae be sick as soon as I wake. It must be somethin’ I’m eatin’ that daesnae agree with me, I think. I’ve never had anythin’ like this in me life before.”

“’Tis very curious,” Deidra said. “I think we should ask the healer tae drop in on ye today, tae give ye a wee look over. She may be able tae help.”

“Aye, maybe. I usually feel better after an hour or two, so I feel a bit of a fraud callin’ her out when she’s so busy with her real patients,” Isla admitted.

Deidra laughed her tinkling little laugh that always made Isla smile. “Well, that’s just silly, Isla. Ye’re the lady of the castle. Ye can call out the healer whenever ye wish tae, and I think it would be wise tae dae so if this carries on much longer.”

“Aye, ye’re probably right. I’m sure Ewan will make sure I consult her soon enough anyway. Ye ken what he’s like.” She smiled fondly to think what good care he took of her.

Deidra’s sweet face split into a merry grin. “Nae doubt about that. Why, he fusses over ye like a mother hen. It makes a nice change that ’tis nae always me on the receivin’ end of it any longer. Why, I couldnae get away with the slightest thing without him actin’ like an old granny!” she joked.

Isla laughed and immediately felt sick again. She groped for the basin on the nightstand and threw up… nothing. “Sorry about that,” she apologized to Deidra as she dabbed her lips with a cloth.

“Dinnae fash yersel’, ’tis only natural,” Deidra said kindly. She suddenly brightened. “Och, I have an idea what might settle yer stomach, some ginger tea. I had some once when I was ill, and it really worked.” She got up. “I’ll go and order a pot fer ye and bring it up tae ye right away.”

“Thank ye, Deidra, that’s very kind of ye,” Isla told her, hoping it might do the trick.

“I willnae be long,” her new sister assured her and hurried from the room.

Isla lay back against her pillows to rest, but then the urge to be sick came once more, and she had to go through the whole unpleasant performance with the bowl again before she felt a little better.

About a quarter of an hour later, Deidra reappeared with the pot of ginger tea on a tray. When she came in, Isla noticed her usually pale cheeks were pink, and she seemed excited. She hurried over with the tray and set it down on a table, pouring some of the steaming liquid from the pot into a delicate china cup and bringing it over to Isla to drink.

“Ye’ll never guess what, Isla,” she said, handing her the cup, her eyes dancing and her smile bright. “I’ve just been talking tae Nancy in the kitchen, and I think I might ken what ails ye.” Nancy was one of the cooks, a cheerful, busty matron with few teeth left due to birthing a tribe of children.

Isla blew across her tea to cool it and sipped at the spicy concoction. Its warmth soothed her aching belly almost at once. “What’s that?” she asked, interested to know Nancy’s opinion, for the woman was not only a splendid cook, but she also had a good, sensible head on her shoulders and was known to be a fount of knowledge on any number of things.

“Well, let me ask ye some questions first,” Deidra said, clearly relishing the prospect.

“Aye, go ahead then.”

“Ye said ye’re ye sick only in the mornin’s when ye wake, that ye feel better off later on the day, is that right?”

“Aye, that’s right.

“And how long has this been goin’ on?”

“Um, almost three weeks.”

“Three weeks, eh? Hmm. And have ye had yer courses this month?”

“I’m nae due fer another few days.”

“Oh? And have ye noticed that yer breasts are tender, and ye have a sort of heavy feelin’ in yer belly at times?”

Isla thought about it for a few moments and then nodded. “Aye, I have noticed that.” To her surprise, Deidra suddenly jumped up from the bed, her face glowing. She clapped her hands gleefully like an excited child.

“Deidra, what is the matter with ye,” Isla asked, laughing at her strange antics. “Have ye gone mad?”

“I’m nae mad, but accordin’ tae Nancy, ye’re almost certainly… with child!” she declared, jumping up and down on the spot. “Och, I’m gonnae be an auntie!”

Isla was so shocked, she almost dropped her cup. With child? Am I… d’ye really think I could be… so quickly…” She trailed off, speechless, amazed, elated to think she might be expecting her and Ewan’s first child. It seemed like a miracle! Not that they had been exactly stinting themselves when it came to enjoying the pleasures of the marriage bed. And even well before that, she remembered, a slight blush coming to her cheeks.

“Och, I’m so excited,” Deidra cried, positively bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “What d’ye think Ewan’s gonnae say when he finds out? I bet he’s gonnae be so delighted!” she crowed.

“But please dinnae tell him yet, Deidra, I’d like tae tell him meself if ye dinnae mind,” Isla said, picturing his face as she gave him the news. “’’Tis nae certain ye anyway.”

“Oh, I think it is,” Deidra countered. “Nancy’s never wrong about such things. And, of course, ye must tell Ewan yersel’. He’s gonnae be over the moon at the thought of bein’ a faither. And he’ll make a grand one too.”

“Aye, he will that,” Isla agreed with a smile, sipping her ginger tea and feeling suddenly a whole lot better than she did before. “It’ll be worth feelin’ like this every morning fer a while just tae see his face when I tell him.”

***

Later that evening, when they had eaten their supper, Isla put her hand on Ewan’s and said, “Can we go fer a walk on the beach? I need some fresh air.”

“Wild horses wouldnae stop me wife,” he replied, and rose to take her arm and escort her gallantly from the hall. They left by a side door and went down the gravely path lined with sea grasses and time-smoothed rocks, to the sandy shore. The scent of thyme carried on the air. Dusk had fallen, but the last vestiges of the sunset lingered in the sky to the west, casting bright lozenges of light across the waves. On the other side of the sky hung a brilliant half-moon, illuminating everything in its path with its silvery light and making the waters sparkle.

“Och, ’tis so beautiful here at night, and the air is nice and fresh,” she said as they wrapped their arms around each other’s waists and strolled slowly along the strand, the waves lapping at their feet. She leaned her head against Ewan’s arm.

“Aye, ‘tis. I told ye once how it was the only thing that truly calmed me. Now, I have ye fer that as well, of course, but ’tis still very soothin’. Water holds a special meanin’ fer us, eh?” Ewan reminded her with a smile. “Remember the pond?”

She chuckled. “I’ll never forget it. And what about the waterfall? That was very memorable too, was it nae?” She shot him a mischievous glance.

“Mmm, keep lookin’ at me like that and I’ll be draggin’ ye behind the rocks over there tae revisit old times,” he told her, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oooh, promises, promises,” she teased him back. “But I’d come of me own accord fer I dinnae think it would be a good idea tae drag me anywhere just now.”

He glanced down at her with puzzlement in his eyes. “Oh? That’s a very mysterious thing tae say. Are ye gonnae explain?”

“Aye. I didnae just bring ye down here fer the fresh air. I have some news tae tell ye.”

“I’m all ears.”

“I think I’m with child.”

He stopped them dead in their tracks and turned to face her, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Can ye say that again, please? I’m nae sure me ears are workin’ properly.”

“I said, I think I’m with child.”

“Are ye sure?”

“Pretty sure, aye. That’s why I’ve been so sick in the mornings apparently.

“Omigod, Isla! Ye mean ye could be carryin’ me bairn in there?” He stooped and pressed his ear against her belly, making her laugh. “I cannae hear anythin’ except yer supper goin’ down.”

“What d’ye think ye’re gonnae hear, ye foolish man? The baby’s the size of a pea, ’tis nae gonnae be in there playin’ the bagpipes, is it?”

He stood up, a huge grin splitting his face, his eyes glowing in the moonlight. He looked so handsome and delighted, it filled her with joy to think he was her husband and loved her above all others. And now, they were going to have a baby, their first child, together.

“Tae think ye have a wee bairn inside, me bairn, that we made together. Och, this is the best news I’ve had since ye told me ye’d marry me. I’m gonnae be a da!” He cuddled her close as if he would never let her go. “I thought I’d never be any happier, but this, this is incredible. What a gift ye are tae me, Isla. I must have done somethin’ right tae deserve ye,” he gabbled excitedly.

“Och, I’m so glad ye’re happy, Ewan. I was a bit worried ye’d think it a bit too soon. I mean, we’ve only been wed two months.”

“Are ye jestin’? I’m-I’m over the moon, me bonny wee lassie, I dinnae have words fer what I feel,” he told her, tenderly stroking her hair from her face and peppering her with kisses. “I’m gonnae take good care of ye, make sure ye have everythin’ ye want and need. And when the the wee one gets here, I’m gonna be the best da ever, ye’ll see.”

“I dinnae doubt it fer one second, me love,” she assured him, planting a loving kiss on his lips.

He suddenly picked her up. “Ye must take it easy from now on until the bairn’s born. Ye mustnae dae anythin’ strenuous. And ye must eat right, plenty of porridge tae build the wee one up.”

“What, are ye gonnae carry me everywhere then?” she asked laughingly as she hugged his neck.

“That’s nae a bad idea.” He set off down the beach back the way they had come.

“Where are ye goin’?”

“I’m taking ye back inside. ’Tis getting’ cold out here. Ye must stay in the warm from now on,” he insisted, striding along. “We cannae risk anythin’ happenin’ tae ye or the bairn.”

“I’m with child, nae dyin’,” she told him as he hurried her back to the castle.

“Ye cannae be too careful. Now, what about names? Have ye thought of any yet?”

“Of course I havenae. I only found out today,” she exclaimed.

“What if ’tis a lad?”

“What d’ye think? Me faither’s name was Ross.”

“Me faither’s name was Rowan. Ross Rowan. Rowan Ross, Hmm, it has somethin’ tae it. We’ll think on that. But what if ‘tis a girl?”

“Rowena? That’s pretty. Rosena?” she suggested. They had reached the path to the castle now. “Are ye gonnae let me down. I can walk, ye ken?”

“I certainly am nae! I’m carryin’ ye all the way,” he insisted. “Ach, I have it, the perfect name fer our daughter,” he declared triumphantly as he marched them the path.

“What is it?” she asked, laughing at his antics. She had never seen him so excited.

“Why, Annie, of course. What else? Aye, Annie Ballentine. Perfect. She’ll be clever and brave and a ravin’ beauty, just like her ma.” He paused at the top of the path and looked into her eyes. “God, I never thought I could feel like this. I love ye so much, Isla, and I love ye more every day. I’m gonnae look after ye both and make ye so happy!”

“How could I be anythin’ but happy when I’m with ye, Ewan? Ye’re the love of me life, and I’ll always be by yer side, as long as I live.”

They sealed their happiness with a tender, lingering kiss beneath the moonlight before Ewan finally carried a laughing Isla indoors.

The End.

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“Are ye ready?” Lyla’s voice made Ava turn to face the mirror.

She was dressed head to toe in a mixture of MacKinnon and MacLeod colors. On one shoulder were two clan badges, mixing their heraldry together. Her blonde hair was no longer in its customary braid, but a more ornate plait, bundled at the top of her head, with loose curls hanging down on either side of her face.

Lyla handed her a bouquet of winter flowers, the stems dried and pressed together with a bow. The white and blue flower heads were serene, contrasting the vibrant colors of her gown.

“I’m ready,” Ava said with a smile growing on her face. Lyla beamed and took her arm.

“Then let us get ye tae the church.”

They giggled together, leaving the chamber and hurrying down through the corridors. The whole way, guards and maids stopped, calling out to Ava and wishing her well. She thanked them all, waving back to them with her bouquet.

Downstairs in the entrance to the castle stood Finley. He was fidgeting, constantly adjusting his own tunic and the plaid strip thrown over his shoulder. When he heard the two of them approaching, he turned to face them, his own face going from one of apprehension to pure happiness in seconds.

“Dinnae ye look beautiful?” he said loudly, clapping his hands together in delight. He met the two of them at the bottom of the staircase. “Ye look a lot like yer maither did, on our wedding day.” There was a softness to his expression that warmed Ava’s heart.

From his words, it almost felt as if she there with them in that moment, laying an encouraging hand on Ava’s shoulder. Their marriage had been arranged, but over the years they had come to care for each other.

“Come, let us get ye tae the church.” Her father offered his arm to her. “If we are late, poor Kai may think ye have run off and changed yer mind.”

“Nae much chance of that,” Lyla said with a laugh. “The two are besotted with each other! Never thought that ye two, of all people, would be so sickly sweet in love.”

“Ha! We arenae like that.”

“Who else breaks off in the middle of a sparring battle tae have a kiss?” Lyla cast her eyes to the heavens, pleading for patience as they walked out of the castle and toward the horses that awaited them.

“Well, we dae.” Ava smiled, giddily.

Just two days before, when Kai had visited to make the last arrangements for the wedding, they had ended up in another sparring practice together. One which was heavily distracting. What Lyla, nor anyone else in the castle knew, was that the sparring had only lasted about five minutes before they had both strayed, doing other things.

Kai had barred the door with a sword to make sure they would not be discovered, before they made love in the middle of the floor. He had relinquished control completely, giving himself up so she could command every part of it. He did as she asked, lying there, allowing her to explore him, trail her fingers over every part of his body, then taking his length inside of her. She had leaned back as she had rocked, grinding against him in the most wonderful way. She had climaxed in that position as well, as he had finished inside of her, thrusting his hips upward to aid her final movement.

When they had emerged, both sticky and sweaty and had gone to dinner with their families, Laird Domhnall had muttered something about them clearly having practiced their sword skills hard. Magnus, on the other hand, had looked a little too intently at the pair of them for Ava’s comfort.

“They are all there, waiting for us,” Finley said as they climbed onto three horses and trotted out of the courtyard, heading toward the chapel in the castle grounds. “Kai’s sister arrived this morning.”

Thora had already arrived some days ago, so Ava presumed her father meant Enya.

“She has come?”

“Oh, aye, and she’s so excited tae see ye.”

As they reached the church, Ava allowed her father to help her down, cautious of jumping down herself when she was wearing so much plaid and was laden down with many petticoats. As they approached the door, Lyla moved behind them, taking up the place of the bridesmaid position as they entered the chapel.

Great pipes struck up the moment they stepped inside.

Ava tried to take in the view as much as possible. All the people that mattered to her were in that room, all the friends and family members she cherished. On one side, she could see all of Kai’s brothers and sisters, along with their partners. Thora, the one sibling not yet wed, stood alone, though she beamed widely, looking deliriously happy. Ava waved quickly at her and Enya, who waved back, then she set her gaze forward.

Kai stood at the front of the church with Domhnall at his side, staring back at her.

He was striking in his handsomeness today, wearing the same clan colors she was, showing the union of their clans. He was smiling so much, Ava was trying to remember the last time she had seen him smile in such a fashion.

I remember.

It was the moment she had told him that she loved him.

Ava and her father crossed through the aisle together toward the altar. As they reached Kai’s side, Finley passed her hand into Kai’s grasp. Instead of releasing them right away, he held his hands over the pair of them together. Ava smiled even wider, though she had thought a second before it would be an impossible thing.

“Joined forever,” he said softly. “May ye both be as happy forever as ye are now.”

Ava felt Kai’s fingers intertwine with her own.

Kai could not stop smiling as he looked at Ava on the dance floor. She was currently dancing with her sister, the two twirling one another under each other’s arms as the pipers and other dancers circled the floor, clapping along in time to the cheery music.

Kai drummed his fingers to the same beat on the side of his cup of mead, far to engrossed watching his wife to realize his brothers were approaching him.

“There he is,” Domhnall said, clapping Kai on his shoulders to get his attention.

“God, ye made me jump.”

“He was far too focused on other things.” Magnus smiled then followed Kai’s gaze to the dance floor. “Ye…”

“What?” Kai said with apparent innocence. He tried to shut down his thoughts, but Magnus worked too quickly. As Kai could read people’s emotions all too well, Magnus could read thoughts as if there were written on people’s skin.

“Ye two didnae wait!?” Magnus hissed.

“Ha! Like ye did?” Domhnall asked with a shake of his head. “Besides, I could tell ye that they didnae wait. I found them in Kai’s bed together just a few weeks ago.”

“Can ye say that a little bit quieter please?” Kai snatched the cup of mead away from his elder brother as Magnus chuckled under his breath.

“I should have kenned.” Magnus nodded in Ava’s direction. “I am happy fer ye, Kai. Happier than I can say. Goodness kens how long ye have been love with her.”

“Ye kenned? Ye always kenned?”

Magnus nodded, ever so slowly. From the way Domhnall looked sheepish, a man who never ever looked sheepish, it was plain as day that Magnus had told Domhnall sometime before what he had read in Kai’s thoughts.

“I also saw that ye never thought ye were good enough fer her.” Magnus shook his head. “I’m glad tae see she changed yer mind in that. Never were two people better matched.”

Coming from Magnus who had married his perfect match, Ciara, this meant a lot.

“Thank ye, Magnus.”

“Tae yer happiness.” Domhnall took back his tankard and raised it in the air to toast him. Magnus and Kai clinked tankards with him. “And tae more being added tae our family.”

He looked across to where Enya was standing with Thora, the two whispering together happily. Enya glowed with a happiness Kai could never remember seeing in her before she had married her husband Cillian.

“Any news from ye?” Kai said, turning his attention to Magnus.

“Ye starting tae read minds too?” Magnus asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Nae, but I can sense something… a hope, aye, that’s it. A hope.” He nodded at Magnus’ expression and the smile that was breaking through.

“I hope it willnae be long afore me wife has news.” Magnus smiled in Ciara’s direction. She had been towed into the middle of the floor by Lyla and Ava, joining the dancing.

They are trying.

Kai clapped his hand on Magnus’ shoulder, delighted for him.

“Though it looks like ye and Ava will have little feet following ye around too soon the way ye two are carrying on,” Domhnall said under his breath. Kai shot a glare at his elder brother, as Magnus chuckled deeply.

“Let us look tae others instead.” Kai looked away, desperate to change the conversation.

He had every intention, when the feast finished, to take Ava to his chamber so they could have a much more private celebration. He caught her eye across the room as she clapped and danced around Ciara. From the heat in her cheeks, she was thinking the same thing.

He winked at her, a silent promise that it would not be long, loving the way she blew a kiss back at him before returning her focus onto the door.

Thora and Enya walked close by, Thora looking a bit worried, but Kai didn’t have time to go and talk to her as she was being dragged by Lyla into a dance and Enya walked toward them. Seeing the opportunity to change the topic of conversation, Kai wrapped his arm around his sister’s shoulders. In a second, a laughing Thora came too, obviously wanting to be a part of the family reunion.

“Well, who shall be next tae wed, I wonder?” he asked. Fortunately, all his siblings played their part. Domhnall nodded along and Enya clapped her hands together excitedly as Magnus cocked his head, watching Thora with great intent.

“Me?” She blushed a deep shade of red. “I am nae thinking of marriage!” she insisted rather loudly. “Yer own wedding day has scarcely finished and already ye are looking tae the next celebration.”

“Aye, why nae?” Kai said with mischief. “Domhnall, dinnae ye think it’s time she turned her thoughts tae such things?” With ease, he pushed Thora between them, shifting his brothers’ attention to Thora.

“Aye, we should talk about such things.” Domhnall agreed.

“I am nae talking about it now.”

Kai took the opportunity to escape. Having left poor Thora to fight her corner alone, Kai ushered into the middle of the dancers and caught Ava’s hand, kissing the back with swiftness. He loved the way she smiled at his touch, her eyes sparkling with clear anticipation.

I ken what she is thinking. She is thinking of what we did the other day in the sparring room, when nay one was around tae see us together.

Even now, the memory of seeing her above him, of watching her as she took her pleasure with complete freedom and confidence, made him growl under his breath, wanting her again.

“Dance with me?” he whispered.

“On one condition.” She held up a single finger between them. “Dae we have tae stay at this feast for much longer? I’m a little… impatient… tae have our own celebration.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. She was too much of a temptation to possibly refuse. When the opportunity arose, they would certainly be slipping away from the celebration together.

“One dance,” he said softly. “Then , love, how could I possibly refuse ye anything?”

The End.

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It was a cloudy day, the air turning sharp with chill, but no one in the clan seemed to mind when the wine flowed freely and the great hall was filled with people and laughter, everyone gathered there to celebrate Dunn’s and Elayne’s wedding. The crowd was merry, as it always was when it was time to feast, but the most important thing to Evander was that his brother was happy.

It had been a while since he had seen Dunn smile so sincerely. Though his brother was always cheerful, Evander had been concerned, at times, that a big part of it was a performance he was putting on for other people’s sake. Now he could tell it was real. With Elayne by his side, Dunn was truly happy.

Evander wasn’t so lucky himself. He sat at the table along with the merry couple, his betrothed sitting quietly by his side.

He and Enna had not spoken a single word to each other that entire evening. Evander couldn’t claim that he had made any effort to speak with her, of course, as ever since his betrothal to her had been announced, he had done his best to avoid her. On the other hand, she hadn’t made any effort either and so they ended up sitting side by side that evening, both of them in complete silence unless they were speaking to someone else. Not that she was a bad or boring lass, he just… didn’t care.

Still, this marriage was for the best. He wasn’t as lucky as his brothers, who had all found love. The only woman he had ever loved had broken his heart a long time ago and since then, Evander hadn’t even entertained the idea of trying to find someone else. In fact, it was better if he didn’t love his betrothed, he thought. The last thing he needed was feelings clouding his judgement. Enna, for all her spiritedness and stubbornness, was a good woman from a good family. That was all Evander needed—someone who would be a solid, positive presence in his life. And of course, it didn’t hurt that her family had land, riches, and influence. In the end, that was what mattered the most.

His brothers had married for love. He was going to marry to bring a valuable ally to his clan.

“Shall we dance?”

It was the first words Enna had spoken to him that day and Evander slowly turned to look at her, unable to keep the surprise from showing on his features. He didn’t know what it was that Enna was trying to achieve—every other couple in the family was dancing, that much was true, but that didn’t mean they had to join them.

Besides, Enna could hardly look at him for more than a few moments. It was his appearance, he knew; those tattoos on his skin that she found too menacing, too disturbing. It was unfortunate for her, since she would have to put up with looking at him for the rest of her life, but Evander couldn’t really bring himself to care. Enna was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt about that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to make his own sacrifices for this marriage.

“I dinnae dance,” said Evander, turning his gaze back to the crowd. Though he couldn’t see Enna’s expression, he was certain she was anything but pleased. The very air around him seemed to get colder and he couldn’t help but shudder, no matter how momentarily.

“Ye could make an exception,” Enna said and there was a strain to her voice, as though she was trying her best to remain polite, to keep up the appearances. Evander himself wasn’t as concerned with such things, though he wasn’t going to start a fight in the middle of the feast.

“Why?” he asked, this time turning to pin her with his gaze. He wasn’t surprised to see that Enna held it, never once averting her eyes. “What does it matter if we dance?”

“It is better than sittin’ here in silence,” she said. “It is only a dance. Perhaps ye will even enjoy it.”

Evander was quick to shake his head. “I doubt that. I never enjoyed dancin’. If ye wish tae dance, I am sure ye can find another partner.”

Enna scoffed, looking at Evander in disbelief for a few moments, before she pushed herself off her chair and left the table. From the other side of it, Evander caught Alec’s gaze, his brother’s disappointment palpable between them.

He had been the one to insist Evander didn’t have to marry Enna, but now he wanted him to act like a good husband. He knew his brother understood this was nothing but a marriage of convenience, as he had told Evander time and time again there were other options, that the future of the clan didn’t depend on this alliance and so he didn’t need to secure it. Why was he so insistent, then, on trying to get them to act like a proper couple?

With a sigh, Evander also made to leave the table. He needed some fresh air, some space to breathe away from all those people, and so he weaved his way through the crowd and stepped out into the courtyard. The sounds from the feast spilled outside through the windows, but it was quieter there, with no one but a few guards and a few guests milling about the grounds, either alone or with company, trying to find a secluded place.

He didn’t go very far. He only lingered by the door, taking a few breaths of the crisp night air, his mind slowly emptying. His fate truly wasn’t so bad. There were worse things than marrying someone he didn’t love. At least this way, he was certain his heart would never break again. Enna didn’t have the power to hurt him.

His thoughts began to drift to May, as they often did when he thought about his marriage. There was a time he was convinced he would marry her, the girl of his dreams. There was a time he had wanted nothing more than to call her his wife, but that time was long gone now, like she was.

She had made her choice. She had left him and even if Evander could do something to bring her back, he never would. He wouldn’t stoop so low as to beg or scheme. As much as it pained him to think about it—and it certainly did, the mere thought of it like a knife to the gut—May simply didn’t love him. Perhaps she never had or perhaps her feelings had faded with time.

Perhaps his would, too, in the future.

Until then he was cursed to think of her every time he saw Enna. Though they neither looked nor sounded alike, simply looking at his betrothed reminded Evander of May, and perhaps that was why he could not bear to be around her. The ache in his chest was too strong. The void inside him only kept growing.

Where are ye now, May? What life are ye livin’?

Evander didn’t know nor did he want to find out. He had been perfectly clear that no one was to say a single word about May in his presence, and so far, for the past ten years, everyone seemed to be following his request. Perhaps they didn’t talk about her at all or even knew anything about her life. Perhaps he was the only one still clinging to the past.

Then Evander heard a familiar pair of footsteps, and he turned around to see Dunn approaching, two cups of wine in his hands. He passed one to Evander who took it gratefully, draining half its contents in one gulp.

“Are ye all right, braither?” Dunn asked. Though he tried to mask it behind a teasing smile, Evander could tell he was worried.

He didn’t want him to worry. This was his big day.

“I am perfectly fine,” he assured him. “What are ye doin’ here? Shouldnae ye be with yer wife?”

“Me wife is schemin’ with Catreena,” Dunn said with a wary sigh. “I can only imagine what our dear sister is tellin’ her about me.”

“Only the best, I’m sure,” said Evander, truly smiling for the first time that night. “If ye dinnae pull Elayne away, Catreena will speak tae her fer the rest o’ the night.”

“Ach, we cannae have that,” Dunn said. “I’ll distract Elayne while ye distract Catreena.”

It was nothing but a thinly-veiled ploy to get Evander back inside, to get him out of his own head. Evander could tell, but he still followed Dunn, huffing out a laugh at his brother’s antics. There he was, at his own wedding, trying to cheer Evander up because he couldn’t go a single day without letting the past swallow him like a tide.

Back inside, the crowds sang and danced. Enna was among them, finally enjoying herself. With any luck, she would manage to build a home there, even if Evander couldn’t give her his love.

With any luck, they could even be friends in the end.

The End.

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Two girls were seated on the grass, one eleven and the other seven. Their legs were crossed into little capital letter M’s in front of them. Their fingers were linked and they were leaning into each other so their foreheads were touching. They were cousins twice over: children of Alistair and Jane, and Ramsay and Eleonor.

“Try harder, Isla,” the younger one said.

“I am doing the best I can, Davina!” the older one replied.

“Dae you see anything?” Davina said. “Because I think I can.”

Isla opened her eyes and pulled away by an inch. “Really?!” she exclaimed excitedly. “What dae ye see? What am I thinking now?”

“Shh,” Davina said, and brought Isla’s head back to its former position. Both girls closed their eyes. “Ye cannae move away or it won’t work,” she said.

“Okay,” Isla whispered. “Tell me what ye see.”

“I see…” Davina started, her voice low and mysterious. “I see… something green.”

“Something green?” Isla whispered.

“Yes,” Davina replied. “Ye are thinking about something brown. I am trying to see what it is exactly. Is it the green of the new dress that Aunt Eleonor finished sewing fer ye yesterday? Is it the green of the grass that surrounds us? Or could it be…hmm.”

“What?” Isla said. “What?!”

“Could you perhaps be thinking of the green snake close tae yer left leg?”

Isla shrieked and jumped up. She vigorously shook her limbs and then inspected the area around her feet. There was nothing there. Davina burst into laughter. Isla frowned. “It’s not funny!” she declared. “I’ve told ye tae stop playing tricks on me!”

“But how can I stop when ye fall fer them so hilariously?” Davina asked, holding her belly. “Ye weren’t even thinking of a green snake and so how could I have seen one?”

“Anyone would be scared if they heard there was a snake their them!” Isla declared.

Davina shook her head. “A green snake? Not me. I would have been excited. I would have put it in me little jar and fed it grasshoppers and termites until its stomach hurt. Then I would make it me pet and name it Fiona. I want it to be a girl snake. I dinnae like boys, and so I dinnae think I would like a boy snake. Haven’t ye ever wanted a pet, Isla?”

Isla shook her head. “Never. Pets scare me. They’re small but ye never ken what they can dae if they just decided tae be bad one day.”

Davina rolled her eyes and stood up. “What harm could a pet snail dae, fer example?”

“Well,” Isla said, and went into deep thought. “I presume it could escape the house ye’ve made fer it and drag its slobber all over yer favorite dresses.”

“Drag its slobber all over me favorite dresses,” Davina repeated. “And ye think that is scary? Not hilarious?”

“Yes,” Isla said. “Leave me alone. We should head back. All this talk of green snakes has ruined the play. I dinnae even think that it is real. Ye cannae read anyone’s mind by just putting yer forehead tae theirs.”

“Ye’ve got it all wrong, Isla!” Davina cut a small blade of grass and put it in her mouth.

“That is disgusting,” Isla said. “Ye would never dae that if adults were watching.”

“Correct,” Davina said. “Anyway, of course ye cannae read anyone’s mind just by joining foreheads. That was just fer fun. Ye can read yer sister’s mind, though. Because ye love each other and dae everything together.”

“We are cousins, Davina!”

“It is the same thing,” Davina said. “It doesnae matter-” She stopped suddenly, for she had just sighted a man walking toward them out of the corner of her eye. She had never seen him before, so she was sure he was not from their clan. He was wearing English clothes, the likes of which her mother, with her very limited drawing skills, had illustrated to teach Davina about her own side of the family.’

Isla, having sighted the man too, took Davina’s hand and began to fidget. “Let’s run,” she whispered to her cousin.

“Why?” Davina asked. “We are not supposed tae run from anything. A Scottish lass should be, above everything, brave and kind. Or have you forgotten what Aunt Catrina has told us?”

“Yes, but…” Isla said. Beginning to fidget. “He doesnae look kind. Nae kind at all.”

“If ye run from people that are nae kind, they’ll think you’re scared of them and become even unkinder.”

“Davina, that doesnae make sense!”

“Hush, he’s here.”

The man stood before them, big and bulky, blocking the sun. He looked like someone who had rolled in the dirt for a considerable amount of time. His clothes were torn in places. His eyes were small and stern. He appraised them, head to toe and back to head, for all of four seconds. Isla edged closer to Davina and squeezed her hand.

“Who are you?” the man asked finally.

“Me faither says I cannae talk tae strangers,” Davina said, her chin jutted in the man’s direction.

“Is that so?” the man asked.

“Tae answer yer question would be tae talk tae ye,” Davina said. “And I have told ye that I cannae dae that.” She turned to Isla. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t move,” the man ordered. Something in the quality of his voice rooted both girls to the spot.

“You,” the man said and pointed at Davina, “come here.”

Davina shook her head. “Ye cannae tell me what tae dae.”

The man’s movement was swift. He dragged Davina away from Isla’s hold as though she weighed nothing.

“Davina!” Isla cried. Davina stomped on the man’s boots and attempted to dig her teeth into his side, but he was faster. With one hand, he swung her over his shoulder. She pounded on his back, but if he felt it, he made no indication that he did.

“You,” the man said, facing Isla, who was trembling in the breeze, “run home and tell your clan that the debt that they owe the Duke of Lancaster shall be paid.”

***

Both couples stood right outside the castle. The horses were ready. The warriors were waiting. Ramsay was holding Eleonor’s hand as he whispered into her ears. Jane and Alistair were locked in an embrace. Jane pulled away and put her hands on her belly. She was six months gone. When Isla, accompanied by Donald, the warrior whose responsibility it was to watch the girls, returned with the news, Jane had nearly fainted. On hearing the message that the abductors had asked her to relay, her eyes had widened in horror.

She had known that the Duke would have his revenge, and because of this, Alistair and Ramsay had taken extra care to fortify the castle, but days had turned into weeks and weeks into months, and it had appeared that the Duke had chosen to busy himself with other things. It had taken eleven whole years for him to fight back. And he had chosen the little girl as the object of his revenge. An innocent in all this. Anytime she thought about it, it made her throat tight. Her little girl, among Englishmen who hated her for her mixed parentage. It was enough to make any mother delirious with worry.

Alistair and his warriors would get her darling Davina back. They had swung into action immediately. Alistair was every inch as worried as Jane, but he did not show it. “Save our daughter, Alistair,” Jane said, her eyes pleading.

Alistair nodded and planted a kiss on her forehead. He then got on his horse. Ramsay bent to hug Isla. Since her return and conveyance of the abductor’s message, she had become reticent, only speaking when spoken to. Her parents – as well as Alistair and Jane – had reassured her that it was not her fault that her cousin and best friend had been taken, but guilt bore heavily on the little girl. Ramsay then kissed his wife goodbye and mounted his horse.

Nearby, Catrina hugged Tasgall. Now 22 years old, he was a sturdy young man with a formidable physique. He towered over his mother, who was pulling away from him with pride. Her eyes strayed to her husband’s, and his reflected the emotion in hers. He, too, was proud of the man that his son had become. Following the end of the war, there had been no battles to fight, and this would be Tasgall’s first mission as a warrior of Clan Fletcher.

Tasgall made to mount his horse, but he was stopped by a tap on the arm. It was Isla. Her shy blue eyes could barely meet his. “May I kiss yer cheek?” she asked.

“Of course,” Tasgall said, and presented his right cheek. Isla planted a peck on it and stepped quickly away.

All the warriors had mounted their horses, and it was time to leave. Alistair raised his arm, and brought his horse to a fast trot away from the castle. The other warriors followed.

The End.

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“Och, I wish ye werenae… gods above… right.”

She wanted Blake. She hadn’t expected to go into labor so soon, still several days out from her due date. Her daughter had been born on time, exactly when the midwife predicted.

As if her thoughts had been spoken aloud, Tessa growled out “Where’s Blake? He should be here! ‘Tis his bairn she’s birthing!”

Hannah, working beside the midwife to change out water and linens, answered her. “I’ve sent a messenger lad fer him. He’s out hunting with the other lads.”

“Lairds.”

“Aye. That tae.”

“Out hunting when he should be with his wife…”

“’Tisnae his fault.” Reyna gasped her way through another contraction. “I sent him away. He didnae want tae go. I told him he could…. Argh! …bring me some game, or I’d have his bollocks and give him something tae truly fret about.”

Tessa laughed. “Ye would at that. And good fer ye. ‘Tis a woman’s right tae say what she likes in the last month or so o’ her lying in.”

Another contraction, and she couldn’t help screaming a little at the pain. She heard her daughter outside, Freya, being watched over by Kenzie. Reyna was about to ask for someone to bring her daughter and Kenzie in, so she could comfort her child, when a commotion sounded at the door.

***

Being chased out of his home by a temperamental lass wasn’t the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him, but it was close. Preston and Finlay, louts that they were, weren’t helping by snickering at him.

The two men had accompanied their wives to Sinclair Castle, so that the women might keep Reyna comfortably occupied during the last days of her lying in and had been only too glad to follow him out on a hunt after Reyna had threatened to castrate him if he didn’t stop hovering over her with concern.

That didn’t stop Preston’s muttering “Lass has got ye near whipped, lad.”

Finlay grinned agreeably at the Murray laird, with whom he’d formed a steady friendship over the past two years. “Aye. But that’s Reyna fer ye. She always was able tae bend Faither and I tae her will. Dinnae think Blake had a chance.”

Blake growled at his brother-by-marriage. “Aye, and how well dae ye stand up tae yer lass, when she was carrying yer bairn in the final months?”

“Nae at all. Which is why I’ve nae shame about teasing ye on the matter.” Finlay was far too cheerful as they rode out into the woods, hunting bows, waterskins and a satchel of food each slung across their saddles.

Preston was still chuckling when they finally found a good spot to dismount and ready themselves to track game. Blake glared at him. “Ye laugh now, Preston, but we’ll see how funny ye find it when yer lass is having yer firstborn.”

Preston smirked. “Did I nae tell ye? Kenzie’s expecting. ‘Tis early days yet, but by winter’s end I’ll have a son or daughter o’ me own. One reason she was fair set on coming tae visit yer lass afore it gets uncomfortable fer her tae ride.”

Blake smirked back. “Then ye’ll have the joy o’ a temperamental lass on yer hands soon enough.”

Preston shrugged.

Finlay snickered. “Oh, man, ye wait and see.”

Blake nodded. “Aye. Reyna’s done everything from stoking the fire when it is boiling, to opening the windows in midwinter. One moment she’ll be demanding me attention, the next she’ll be after kicking me out o’ me own bed tae steal me pillows fer her comfort. And I’m fair convinced that castle cooks are women so they willnae be startled by whatever a lady wants tae eat when she’s carrying. Being sent tae hunt is naething new.”

Finlay nodded sagely. “Tessa wasnae so demanding until her eighth month, but she couldnae stomach much beyond certain foods. Thought she was fair sick, drove me out o’ me mind with worry fer her.”

Preston looked much less smug now, and Blake grinned. After a moment, they three of them turned their attention to hunt.

Blake was stalking a herd of deer through the woods, hoping some venison would soothe his beloved wife’s temper, when the messenger found him with the message that Reyna had gone into labor. The words he used as he wheeled the horse around had likely scared the game away for a fortnight or more, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to care, not unless his love really was upset that he’d not brought home fresh meat for her.

Well, if she was, he’d send the master of the hounds to get some. Right now, he had more important concerns.

Blake shoved his way into the birthing chamber, heedless of the hissing of the midwife and the shocked exclamations of the servants at the door. He didn’t care that tradition said men were supposed to wait outside the birthing room, or that he might upset someone.

His wife was having his child. He’d not leave her side unless she chased him away as she had this morning. He still felt guilty that he’d permitted himself to leave the castle with Finlay and Preston, rather than simply finding a quiet place out of his wife’s view.

Reyna screamed again, and he went to her side, reaching out to embrace her and take her hand in his. “I’m sorry I wasnae here sooner, ey love.”

“Ye shouldnae be here now.” The midwife was practically bristling with outrage, but Tessa and his mother both exchanged knowing looks as Reyna latched onto his hand with a bruising grip.

“Leave it alone, Marina. Ye’ll nae get rid o’ him.” Hannah directed a pointed look at the hand Reyna was currently trying to crush with her own. “She’s the only one who could, and she’s not after letting him go anywhere.”

The midwife huffed but nodded. “All right, me lady, let’s see how yer doing…”

Another contraction, another scream that wrenched his guts worse than any battlefield had ever done, and a satisfied sound from the midwife. “Ye’re ready. On the next wave, push as hard as ye can.”

He could see the next wave hit his wife, even before she screamed, loud enough to hurt his ears. Her hand clenched on his with a force that would leave bruises, if not break bones. He didn’t care. He simply held her close as wave after wave passed through her.

It seemed to last forever, each contraction worse than the last, and he could see what looked to him like far too much blood, too much sweat, and too much pain. He couldn’t believe this was normal, no matter how much his mother said otherwise. His mind kept racing, and he couldn’t stop the thoughts any more than he could end Reyna’s screams.

Gods, surely our firstborn didnae take so long… oh, gods…Reyna!

Then there was one final wave that seemed to bend his wife in two. Reyna screamed like she was being torn apart and pushed. The, the wave passed and the sound of crying split the air, a thin wail that sounded like the sweetest music ever produced to his ears. The midwife straightened with a squirming, crying, red bundle in her arms and a broad smile. “Well done, me laird, me lady. A fine son fer ye, and perfectly healthy from the lungs on him.”

“Thank goodness.” Reyna went limp against him.

Blake remained where he was as the midwife helped deliver the afterbirth, and Tessa helped clean his exhausted wife up. Meanwhile, his mother helped clean the babe and wrapped him in a soft blanket. Once both mother and child were clean, she approached. “A fine lad fer ye, indeed.”

Blake watched as Reyna took the babe into her arms. Without thought, his hand reached out to stroke the tiny face, now peaceful and drowsing. Reyna’s smile widened. “He looks like ye, Blake.”

“’Tis tae soon tae tell.” Blake laughed.

Tessa approached. “He’s a bonny bairn. Have ye thought o’ a name?”

Blake nodded. “Aye.” He shared a glance with Reyna. “His name is Leith. Fer me faither.”

His mother gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth, tears in her eyes. “Blake…”

He smiled. “Me faither deserves tae be remembered. Even if I didnae always agree with him, he was a good man.”

“Aye.” His mother squeezed his shoulder.

Reyna smiled, then offered him the child. “I ken if ye came back so did Finlay and Preston. Ye might as well go show him off. I ken ye’re dying tae dae so.”

“And how could I nae be proud o’ me bonny wife and me wonderful new son?” Blake laughed as he rose and accepted the precious bundle.

Slowly, carefully, he turned away, so mesmerized by the sight of his son’s sleeping features he could scarcely breathe.

Leith. Me son.

As he walked toward the door, Blake found himself laughing in sheer happiness.

After so long, he was finally, truly, home and at peace.

The End.

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