Prologue

Fresh blood dripped from the silver dagger hanging limply by her side—the scarlet drops creating a dark stain in the thick mud at Ava’s feet. The sections of the blade that weren’t bloodstained glinted in the sunlight peeking through the throng of grey clouds overhead, mirroring the somber atmosphere.

The pungent smell of iron burnt her nostrils with a sickly-sweet sting. It wasn’t the first time that Ava Rose had smelled blood—no, she was more than familiar with the crimson fluid and its scent. The nausea twisting her stomach and making her sick had far more to do with the person to whom the blood belonged.

Boyd Cameron stared up at her from the ground, curled up in the fetal position just a few steps away, his hands bound together in front of him, and too weak to get up. But the way he looked at her revealed that he was well aware of what was going on around him. His beautiful green eyes were filled with pain and confusion—his normally neat blond hair had spilled from his ponytail and was caked with mud and fresh blood.

Even while lying on his side curled into a ball, Boyd was noticeably taller than any man she’d known. His height had always made him a formidable highlander. Her highlander.

Ava stared down at him, contemplating her next move. He didn’t deserve this… nae like this… A laird laying in the mud, wounded by me own hand. Wounded by someone he had come tae trust… Thoughts of who he really was nagged at her conscience.

This wasn’t a murderer who lay in front of her. This was Boyd Cameron. Laird to the villagers who surrounded them now. And the man she loved.

Me heart is breaking, I cannae dae this…

“Finish the job,” Tavish snarled from beside Boyd when Ava lingered for too long, towering over the wounded man in triumph. Tavish’s light green eyes were dark with murderous intent. Ava looked at the nasty grin across his face, letting her gaze fall to the sharp-edged dagger against her brother’s frail neck.

The agony of the situation had turned his skin even paler and ashier than usual. Dark circles under his eyes alerted Ava to the fact that his body had already taken as much as it could. How long had it been since he had his last dose of medication?

Focusing on her brother and drowning out the screams of excitement and confusion emanating from the unruly crowd, Ava shut her eyes. A single hot tear ran down her cheek. There was no other choice… She would have to do it. She opened her light blue eyes that shone with tears. Crossing the small divide between her and the man she loved with small, hesitant strides, she dreaded what had to be done with every fiber of her being.

Kneeling down before Boyd, she cupped his rough cheek and brought her face closer to his. “I am so sorry Boyd, I didnnae mean for things tae end like this…” she whispered with tears flowing over her pale cheeks. “I have tae dae this…” She leaned in closer and pressed a final kiss against his quivering lips.

The blood he’d lost, in addition to the dizziness from the potion, was beginning to have an effect. His skin paled noticeably. Boyd returned her kiss with a small grunt of pain as he strained to lift himself up, making her heart break with regret and sorrow for the man she loved and had betrayed.

“Dae it already!” Tavish screeched at her in his grating voice.

“Think about what ye are about tae dae, Ava!” Rory’s voice called to her from the side. The crowd parted slightly, revealing Boyd’s best friend being held back by a group of Tavish’s men dressed in kilts and traditional battle garb.

Grunting from the pain in his hand where the blood still flowed from his wound, Boyd looked up at Ava with a tumultuous, cross expression written on his ruggedly handsome face. His slurred words and slow movements were an indication that the potion was still having an effect on his body. “Ava… are ye really going tae dae this? After everything we’ve been through?”

She stood frozen as he spoke.

“I thought ye loved me as much as I love ye, Ava…” Boyd’s words trailed off as he saw her head turn toward her brother before he could even finish his sentence. “I thought we felt the same…” he whispered.

“Enough sentiment!” Tavish growled. His arms tightened around Neil as his anger and impatience grew.

Neil’s eyes pleaded with her again, tugging at her heart as his chest rose and fell with increasing effort. A coughing fit was not far off when he breathed like that. Time was running out.

Ava shut her eyes and gritted her teeth as thoughts of the past few weeks raced through her mind. They were interrupted by her brother’s pleas for help and Rory begging her to see reason. The moment had come to make her final decision. Turning slightly to the left, Ava raised her dagger high into the air. She knew what had to be done.

“Ava, nae! Dinnae dae it!” Rory’s voice was frantic with panic as he yelled over the onlookers’ heads. The crowd gasped in shock.

Tears flowed freely down her porcelain cheeks as Ava spun around and plunged the dagger’s blade into his hot flesh, all the way down to the hilt. Bone cracked, and blood spurted down her hands and onto her dark cloak. The sickening smell of fresh blood was nearly as unbearable as the number of hot tears spilling over her cheeks. The gurgling sounds of a man dying at her hand pierced her thoughts like the dagger that had penetrated the man’s flesh.

“I never wanted to dae this…” she whispered through her tears, her voice thick with emotion.

The crowd grew silent as Ava twisted the dagger one last time to ensure that the job had been executed correctly. Taking a step back, she could no longer control herself and sank to her knees, sobbing at what she had just done.

The clouds erupted with fine rain, which fell over the lifeless body lying in the street as she cried aloud and hugged her middle. Villagers were shocked. Some people covered their mouths, while others stood motionless, unable to believe or accept what they had just witnessed.

There was no going back now. The deed was done. Ava Rose had made her choice, and no number of potions nor pleading could take it back…

He was dead.

Chapter One

“One Month Earlier…”

Ava tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and straightened the dark traveling cloak she always wore on her missions. It was yet another dreary moor afternoon in the Scottish Highlands, and the wind rustled through the trees and underbrush.

“That one was rather quick. Ye was in and out in the shake o’ a lamb’s tail,” Skye said, her hazel eyes scanning the bushes of heather in case they were being followed.

“Aye. He thought luck was on his side when a young lass wondered so readily intae his house. I didnnae even have tae convince him tae let me in. He even readily accepted the tea mixture.” Ava’s stomach clenched with disgust at the way the man had licked his lips and scanned her from head to toe when he opened the door.

“The bastard had it coming. He was a bad man,” Skye added and balled her delicate fists at her sides as they walked. Her already pale skin whitened at the knuckles.

Ava clenched her jaw at the thought of what she’d just done. Skye was right about one thing: the man she had just poisoned was indeed a bad man. There was no denying that he shouldn’t be left in the world to ruin people’s lives.

Yet, she felt terrible. But she needed the money to help pay off the debts left behind after her parents’ deaths, as well as the care her brother required. When no other option presented itself, Ava had taken to hiring herself out as a paid assassin. Poison was her weapon of choice. Years of experience had taught her well.

Just by glancing at a pinch of powdered nightshade, she could determine whether it’d induce sleep or death. The purple plant that grew only in the dampest and darkest sections of Scotland’s moors was always present in her arsenal of potions, whether to kill or knock somebody out. She couldn’t afford even the slightest miscalculation.

She was as good as any healer in the village, even better, some would say. There was one thing that bothered her, however. Ava always struggled to come to terms with her own conscience after she’d successfully executed a mission.

“I ken what yer thinking Ava, I’ve known ye long enough. What ye did was right; he ruined that young lass’ life. Naething ye did can be worse than what he did tae her. Remember that,” her friend said.

Walking on without saying another word, Ava listened to her best friend prattle on about how bad the man was and how the world was better off without him in it. Years spent helping the village healer who looked after her brother once their parents had died, had equipped Ava Rose with a helpful, and sometimes deadly, knowledge of herbs and plants that she used to her advantage whenever the occasion arose. She wasn’t proud of the fact that she killed men for a living. But these men had brought nothing but misery and sorrow into the world, they deserved it.

“If ye hadn’t poisoned him, he would be free tae hurt another wee lass. Ye did the world a favor, Ava. Yer a hero in my eyes,” she smiled reassuringly at her friend with her thin lips. Everything about Skye was fine and delicate, from her height, slender body, and fairy-like features to her voice and the pretty floral dresses she wore. Ava was often worried that the tiniest gust of wind would blow her away. But her friend possessed a heart that was fiercer than any man she had ever met.

“I ken it might have been the right thing tae do in the eyes of the world at large,” Ava sighed heavily. “But was it right for me tae make that decision…” her words were less of a question and more of a statement.

Ava had been hired to carry out revenge on a man that had taken advantage of a young girl in the woods while she was out picking flowers. She was only fifteen. The girl’s father had wanted revenge and sought out Ava’s services in one of the taverns that she frequented for work. She only took on missions where she was absolutely certain that the target in question deserved what she was asked to do.

It was the only way she could earn enough money to support herself and her brother Neil. He suffered from a bad chest, and a myriad of other ailments, that required around-the-clock care from healers as well as herself. All of which didn’t come cheap. They barely kept their heads above water with the money she earned.

“I ken that the people I poison are bad people; it’s just that the question plagues me mind night after night…” she paused for a second, struggling to put her thoughts into words. “Is it really me decision, or yers, or anyone else’s for that matter? Tae decide when a life should end based on what they dae or did tae others? Should he nae have just gone tae jail or some other form of punishment?”

“Dinnae go down that path again,” Skye attempted to soothe her best friend’s conscience. “Ye dae what ye have tae, tae survive. And by doing so, ye rid the world of people that shouldnae be in it in the first place. Monsters like that should nae be allowed tae carry on living.”

Smiling half-heartedly, Ava looked at her friend as they walked. Skye was a blessing, she didn’t know what she would do without her. The young blond girl did everything in her power to help her and Neil whenever she could. She tagged along on Ava’s missions and acted as a distraction whenever was needed to complete the task at hand. A notorious flirt in the village, Skye could always be counted on to distract any potential disruptions.

“Cheer up lass, ye’re almost home,” Sky slipped her arm into the crook of her friend’s. “I’ll brew ye a nice cup o’ tea. Nice clean tea ye can trust,” she added with a teasing wink.

Ava was slightly taller than her friend with a more rounded figure and aristocratic features with a skin as pale and smooth as porcelain that oft had people mistaking her for nobility. Not wanting the attention that her beauty often drew from passers-by, Ava often wore dark dresses and cloaks with hoods that would conceal her identity.

She always pulled her hair up into a tight bun at the back of her head when she was on a mission, loosening it the second she was sure that the target was dead and nobody was following her.

Skye would always tell her that she looked like a young school marm with her hair tied back, and a proper lady with it hanging loose. That suited Ava just fine as she relied on her different appearances for the sake of anonymity.

The cluster of silver birch trees that grew so readily in the forest gave way to an opening that revealed a tiny wooden cabin. Ava’s great-grandfather had built the cabin with his own two hands, and their family had lived in it for generations thereafter. The structure made from oak wood stood in a clearing surrounded by hazel bushes that nestled the humble lodgings in a homely cocoon.

It consisted of a kitchen, two small bedrooms, four small windows peering out the front and sides and a sitting area that Ava had converted into her brother’s room with a wooden-frame bed. It was just easier to have Neil closer to the medication when he had one of his many coughing fits.

Ava felt a small amount of relief at the sight of her home. The only peace she had in the world was knowing that she had a safe haven to return to, where her brother was waiting. A tiny patch of peat surrounded the cabin, fed by the babbling stream that ran through the forest. She stopped for a second, pulling her friend back with her.

“What’s the matter?” Skye suddenly asked when she caught a glimpse of Ava’s face.

“Something isnae right,” she nodded toward the cabin. “The door is slightly open. Sophie was supposed tae be with Neil, she would never leave the door open in weather like this. She’s his healer. She kens what it would dae tae his chest.”

Skye frowned and followed her friend when Ava suddenly broke into a run.

She burst through the partially open door, her breath catching in her throat when her eyes fell on the scene before her. “Oh my Lord!” she exclaimed before rushing forward.

The young healer was bound by her hands and feet with a dirty rag shoved into her mouth. She was laying on her side on the bed that Neil usually occupied. The furniture in the cottage was strewn about the floor.

“Where is he?” Ava asked frantically as she hurried to undo the healer’s hands and remove the rag from her mouth. The rope had already cut welts into the girl’s pale skin. “Where is he?!” she asked a little more frantically when Sophie struggled to catch her breath, gagging and gasping for air once her mouth was free again.

“They…” she struggled to speak over her sobs. The lass looked as if she’d been roughed up a little. Tiny bruises covered her arms.

Skye took a deep breath and tried to calm them both. She brushed strands of Sophie’s long blond hair over her shoulder and wiped away her tears with her sleeve. “What happened here?”

Sophie took a deep breath and stared at Ava with her dark brown eyes filled with tears. Her body shook uncontrollably. “Four men came intae the cabin soon after ye left, Ava. I tried tae stop them, but…”

Ava shook her gently by the shoulders when she started to sob again. “Did they take Neil? Where is he?” she asked more gently. “I need tae know what happened.” Ava stayed close to Sophie while Skye boiled water for tea to calm their nerves.

Sophie nodded as even more tears fell into her lap. “They left a note for ye on the table over there,” She raised a frail arm and pointed to the table in the center of the room, which stored all of the herbs used to help Neil.

Ava left the lass immediately, hurriedly making her way across the room to pick up the single sheet of paper that lay amidst the herbs and potions. She quickly glanced at the slanted writing on the page before rushing back over to Sophie. “Please, read it! Ye ken, I cannae, please,” she asked frantically.

The lass took the note with a shaking hand before finding enough strength to read it aloud.

Ava Rose

Two weeks.

Ava could feel the blood draining from her face as she slumped down in the nearest chair. The letter was not signed but she didn’t need anyone to tell her who had written it.

Skye rushed over once she had seen to Sophie and gripped Ava’s shoulders. Her face was paler than usual. The mischief in her gaze vanished. “Ava, what are we going tae dae?”

“I will have tae get the money before the two weeks are up. There is naething else tae dae,” Ava said as she stood, regaining her composure, trying to think logically again once the shock left her body.

“How will we dae that, Ava? We would have tae dae hundreds o’ jobs tae make that kind o’ money. With those smaller, more ‘honorable’ missions that we take on, we cannae make enough in two weeks’ time.”

“I will have tae go tae The Dark Horseman, Skye, ye ken that,” Ava said quietly as she began to pick up the furniture that had been knocked over.

Skye gasped and stared at her friend with her jaw hanging open. “Ava… ye swore that ye would never go there,” she shook her head lightly in disbelief.

“What else can I dae, Skye? Tell me, and I’ll do it, I swear,” she turned around with tears in her eyes, her voice high with panic and frustration. “Neil has been taken and I dinnae have the money they are asking for. I have tae dae what’s necessary right now. The Dark Horseman is the only place that will bring in that kind o’ money in such a short time.” Her palms felt sweaty from worry. “Or dae ye suddenly have buckets o’ money ye are willing tae give? Last time I checked, ye were just as poor as I am.”

Without sparing a word, Skye rushed over and threw her arms around her best friend’s neck. “I ken lass, I ken…” She buried her face in Ava’s hair. “We will get Neil back in one piece.”

Ava cried softly as she held onto her friend, immediately regretting her harsh outburst. Skye was all she had, except for Neil. She gave Sophie a quick glance, only to see the girl was sitting on the edge of her brother’s bed with her head resting in her hands, her elbows propped up on her thin legs. Her hair hung about her face like a waterfall of gold. The hem of her dress was tattered and torn, presumably from putting up a fight with the men who had taken him.

“I will go with ye,” Skye whispered through tears of her own.

“Nae, ye willnae, The Dark Horseman is nae place for a lass as fine as ye. But I ken that I can count on ye for help when I need it,” she shut her eyes against the burden of what she knew she had to do. “And I ken that I will need all the help that I can get.”

In the space of a moment, the world around Ava got darker. She would do anything to get her brother back alive and well. Even if it meant breaking her own oath, and visiting The Dark Horseman alone, praying to find someone to kill.

Chapter Two

Steel clashed together with deafening metallic clinks as the full moon peeked through the clouds overhanging the quiet castle.

“We cannae keep doing this, Boyd!” Rory called to his friend as he gasped for breath. His dark hair hung over his deep blue eyes, matted in sections from sweat. “It’s the middle o’ the night.” He doubled over, placing his hands on his knees to support himself while catching his breath. Though exhausted, a slight smirk spread across his face.

“Dinnae tell me ye are giving up already,” Boyd wielded his sword again, forcing his best friend to straighten and block his attack with his own sword. Boyd’s long blond hair was tied back in a ponytail to keep it from falling into his light green eyes. He was a formidable highlander with a fierce reputation. Taller than most men, his muscular build and bulging muscle only added to the effect.

Their swords clashed together for the hundredth time that night as they both leaned in with effort, attempting to push the other back.

“It’s nae that I mind sparring with ye Boyd,” Rory grimaced, looking up at his opponent. “I just feel that there are other ways tae tire ye out at night and spend yer energy before bed.”

“Dinnae start again,” Boyd winced through gritted teeth, beads of perspiration forming on his forehead.

“Ye cannae escape women all the time, Boyd. Ye need tae bed a lass, even if it’s one of the local lasses, you neednae go all the way tae the brothel in town. One of yer own maids here at the castle will dae.”

Boyd looked up at Rory in shock. He had never before suggested such a thing. Where, for God’s sake, was that idea from? Taken by the distraction, Boyd stumbled back as his sword fell from his grasp, clattering to the courtyard’s cobbled ground after slicing a neat slit in his grey breeches.

Rory swung his sword triumphantly as if he had made his point clear. “Ye may nae think that sparring is enough tae slake yer lusts, but ye are distracted, Boyd. Ye need tae dae something about that before ye get yersel’ killed in battle. Or even worse, ye could make a mistake and get yer men killed…”

Boyd relented to defeat and let himself sink to his haunches before sitting back on the ground. “I dinnae think that bedding the maids would reflect kindly on me as Laird, Rory.”

Rory took in a satisfied breath and placed his sword back at his side and looked down at the laird panting on the ground. “Then begin the search for another wife, Boyd. It’s been a year since…”

“Exactly, it’s been only a year. I dinnae want tae talk about that,” he snapped quickly. “Ye ken that very well.”

“Ye can bark at me all ye want. Ye dinnae scare me,” Rory hunkered down in front of his friend so that they were eye-to-eye. “Ye need tae hear the truth, and I dinnae mind that it needs tae come from me,” he paused before lowering his voice slightly to a more sympathetic tone. “She’s nae coming back, Boyd… We’ve looked everywhere.”

Boyd pushed himself up angrily, glaring down at Rory, who rose and stared him down, determination mingled with pity. “Dinnae say things like that, ye dinnae ken if she’s been killed,” he reached down and picked up his sword again.

Rory raised his voice more sternly, losing his patience slightly as Boyd failed to listen to reason. Again. “We have searched damn near every corner o’ Scotland. Where else dae ye want the men tae search?” He flung his arm out in a broad gesture. “Under all the heather and peat? She’s gone, Boyd. They all are. Whatever may have happened, ye cannae live yer damned life digging in the past. Ye are Laird.”

Boyd glared at his friend, panting from the exertion of picking up his sword again. The sun was still setting when they began their evening sparring match, and his energy was depleted. But the mention of his lost betrothed fueled his rage. He charged at Rory once more, letting out a fierce battle cry.

Stepping aside with ease, his friend dodged his attack, knowing full well that the Laird’s judgment was clouded. Any talk of Cora never returning was a taboo subject where Boyd Cameron was concerned. Both Rory and Boyd himself knew that very well.

Boyd landed with a thud and a clatter on the stones, his sword scraping in the dirt as it sailed away from him toward the inner walls of the castle.

“I think I have made my point,” Rory said, staring down at Boyd who had rolled onto his back, offering his hand to help him up. Boyd took it and let his friend guide him up. Deep down, he knew that the search could not go on forever. But he was unwilling to accept the fact that he would never see the woman he loved ever again.

Night after night, she haunted his thoughts and dreams. Her beautiful face kept him awake, urging him to find her. Cora. Cora Steward. She had gone missing the night before their wedding under mysterious circumstances, along with his father and the rest of her family and bridal party. Boyd thought her disappearance was the end of him—he could still feel the panic and anguish he felt when he realized they were gone.

“I dinnae say these things tae hurt ye, Boyd. I want ye tae have peace again,” Rory said as he pulled him up. “Tae much time has passed, ye need tae mourn and move on. The clan has bigger things tae worry about.”

Boyd placed his hands on his hips and examined the earnest expression on his best friend’s face as he caught his breath again, panting for air. Everything Rory said rang true. But there was no snuffing out the spark of hope he felt inside. She couldn’t just be dead. She must still be out there, somewhere, waiting for me… Killing somebody’s memory was far harder than killing an actual person.

“I ken what ye are saying, but I cannae just stop looking for her. As for yer suggestion that I bed a lass…” he looked up at the castle window where her bedroom had been on that night while feeling his emotions ebbing to dangerous places.

“I have nae been able tae look at any other lass in that light since… I cannae bring mysel’ tae…” he looked down and shook his head. “I ken that everyone thinks the marriage was planned against our will… and that since it was arranged tae remedy the bad blood between the clans, that we didnnae care for each other with genuine affection…” his voice trailed off.

“But yer attraction was real,” Rory finished his sentence for him.

“Aye, nae just the attraction. She made me laugh and filled a void in my life I never even knew existed.” Boyd looked down at his soiled breeches and the scrapes on the palms of his hands. Tiny drops of blood were beading on the cuts. “It was love at first sight for me… I cannae be sure o’ her feelings on that score. But she did express a great fondness for me as well,” a sad smile tugged at his lips.

The marriage had been arranged by the lairds and the families of the opposing clans to settle the hostility that had long plagued the families for centuries. The plan had seemed like it was going to work up until the night before the wedding, when everything had gone terribly wrong. The families had been once again at war since then. Callum Steward, Cora’s uncle, had taken over as Laird after his brother had disappeared, along with the rest of his immediate family, Cora included.

Callum maintained that the Cameron clan must have had something to do with the disappearance, since the incident had occurred in their castle whilst his family were guests. To make matters even worse, Boyd’s father had gone missing along with the rest of the party, implicating them even further.

Boyd racked his mind but had failed to come up with a plausible explanation of what could have occurred. It is impossible that an entire group of people can go missing just like that without a trace…

Grief-stricken, his mother had taken her own life a short while after. Boyd felt desperately sorry for the pain she must have been feeling with the loss of her husband—it was a pain all too familiar with his because of how he felt for Cora.

Boyd thought back to the time he had first laid eyes on Cora Steward…

He’d been waiting impatiently in the grand entrance hall of the castle for the woman his parents had said he was to marry for the good of the clans. His hopes and dreams had been dashed when he was informed that he would no longer be able to choose his own bride. For Boyd’s heart was already set on a beautiful lass he’d noticed from another clan.

“It’s ye…” a quiet voice had suddenly said from just behind him.

Boyd had turned around to see a beautiful young lass with strawberry blond hair and golden-brown eyes. Her skin was flawlessly white with undertones of peach. Her pale pink gown made her perfect lips look even pinker. To his greatest shock and amazement, she was no stranger at all.

“Hello…” he had managed through his astonishment. “Are ye here with the party or… it cannae be,” his eyes searched her face hopefully with a slight amount of disbelief.

“When they said I was tae marry someone from yer clan, I hoped it would be ye,” she had smiled sweetly.

Boyd had laid eyes on her for the first time at a clan meeting to discuss the ongoing concerns between the families. He’d thought her the most beautiful lass he had ever seen in his life. They had talked and laughed together in a quiet corner of the banquet hall while the elders discussed their business.

She had been so polite and kind to him, that he’d thought her from a different clan. After all, there was no way that a member of the Steward clan would ever be so kind to a Cameron.

He’d fallen for her the instant he’d seen her. Cora’s laugh and gentle nature only sweetened the deal. Nonetheless, their clans were at odds, and would likely be for many years to come, as that night’s discussions had demonstrated. Boyd had made peace with loving her from afar. All the clans in attendance that night had been their rivals.

Cora’s smile broadened. “I hope it’s a pleasant surprise, nae?” she asked demurely, her long lashes brushing her cheeks whenever she looked down.

“More pleasant than ye could ever imagine,” he’d taken a step forward.

She’d laughed then and placed her soft hands in his when he’d held out his hands to her. “My heart was poundin’ so fast waiting tae see how ye would respond. I hoped ye’d be as keen as I am,” her soft and elegant voice reminded him of the meadow pipits in the height of spring.

His throat tightened when he recalled just how lovely she was. They never even had the chance to really get to know each other before tragedy struck. Boyd cleared his throat and adjusted his soiled white shirt to conceal the fact that he was choking up.

“Ye have braved more storms than any other man I ken,” Rory’s words yanked him from his thoughts and solitude. “And while I have the greatest sympathy with all the loss ye have dealt with and the ones ye are still strugglin’ tae accept… Ye are Laird now, Boyd. Ye need tae dae what is best for the clan, and nae just yersel’. As hard as it may be, this is the reality of being ye.”

“The clan must come first,” Boyd said bitterly and straightened his back, doubting that fate would deal him another pleasant surprise as it had done before.

“Aye, harsh, but true. I dinnae mean that ye must throw love out the window altogether and marry just for convenience. But at least be open tae the chance of meeting someone new. I ken how ye feel about Cora, and I am nae saying that anyone else can ever come close, but even if they dinnae. Ye dinnae have tae be alone for the rest of yer life. I want ye tae be happy again.”

Boyd loved Rory like a brother and knew that he would eventually have to take his suggestions on board should Cora never return. But a year seemed like such a short time to move on with your life after having lost so many people. How could their memory be erased so swiftly?

“Apologies, my Laird,” a man approached them from the shadow of the castle. “I dinnae mean tae interrupt yer conversation, but the council has called for a meeting at once.”

They raised their eyebrows and exchanged worried glances before looking back to the messenger. The man had obviously been in a hurry, his kilt was soiled with dirt, and his sandy hair was a mess.

“At this hour?” Boyd asked with concern.

“Aye, one o’ the scouts returned with some particularly disturbing news. It seems like we may expect an attack on our borders sooner than expected, my Laird.”

“Dammit,” Rory cursed under his breath. “I ken things had been too quiet o’ late.”

Boyd quickly retrieved his sword before following the messenger with haste. If this report proved to be true, he may just have to push his own feelings aside and find a bride for the sake of the clans. And soon.