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Was there a part that bored or that you didn't really like in the book?

Even a character, a scene, or anything. You could say no if nothing bothered you.

Which was the part you liked most in the book?

Even a character, a scene, or anything that you enjoyed.

When I’m reading a series, I will: *

• Only pick up series where all books are already released
• Wait up to a month for the next book
• Wait as many months as necessary for the next book

What would you like the next book series you read to be about? *

• Pirate lairds
• Sisters that are forced by their father into arranged marriages
• A group of healers from a healing school that find love

Anything else you'd like to share?

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One year later…

The baby’s wail shattered the pre-dawn silence like a battle cry.

Elena jolted awake, her body moving on instinct before her mind fully caught up. Beside her, Brian was already sitting up, his black hair wild from sleep and his green eyes alert despite the ungodly hour. They’d learned that dance over the past three months, since their daughter had arrived, fierce and demanding and perfect.

“Me turn,” Elena said, pushing back the furs.

“Ye got up twice last night.” Brian’s hand found her wrist, his thumb stroking her pulse point with familiar tenderness. “Let me.”

“Ye have the ceremony today. Ye need tae be rested.”

“So dae ye. Ye’re the one who carried her fer nine months and pushed her intae this world.” His voice was rough with sleep and something deeper. “I can handle one screaming bairn.”

Elena wanted to argue but exhaustion won. She sank back against the pillows as Brian stood, pulling on breeches with movements made efficient by months of practice. The sight of him still made her breath catch. Broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips, muscles shifting beneath skin marked with scars from battles won and lost. Even disheveled and half-asleep, he was devastating.

He caught her staring and his lips curved. “Enjoying the view, wife?”

“Shut up and get yer daughter.”

“Our daughter. And she clearly got her lungs from ye. All that screaming.”

“I dinnae scream.”

“Ye absolutely dae. Just last night when I had me mouth on yer—”

“Brian Gunn!”

His laugh followed him from the chamber, warm and unguarded in a way that still surprised her. The man who’d freed her chains a year ago had been all controlled fury and buried guilt. This version, the one who made terrible jokes at dawn while fetching their crying baby, was someone she’d helped create through patience and stubbornness and love that had grown roots too deep to pull.

The wailing stopped. Elena heard Brian’s low murmur, too quiet to make out words but soothing in tone. She closed her eyes and let herself drift, knowing he’d bring their daughter back when she needed feeding.

***

Brian cradled his daughter against his chest, swaying in the gentle rhythm that usually calmed her. She was tiny still, all scrunched face and flailing fists, but she it looked like she may have inherited Elena’s light brown eyes and his black hair. The combination was devastating.

“There now, wee one,” he murmured. “Yer mam needs sleep. So daes yer da, but apparently that’s nae happening today.”

Maisie, named for his cousin, quieted to snuffles against his bare chest. Her tiny hand curled around his finger with surprising strength. Three months old and already she had him completely wrapped around those miniature fingers.

Fatherhood terrified him in ways war never had. That small creature depended entirely on him and Elena for survival, for protection, for love. Every time he held her, he remembered his cousin. Remembered failing to keep someone precious safe.

But Elena’s voice in his head was steady and sure. Ye’re nae the same man who lost yer cousin. Ye’ve learned. Ye’ve grown.

He hoped she was right.

“Yer mam is remarkable, ye ken,” he told Maisie, walking slow circles around the nursery chamber adjacent to their own. “Strong and stubborn and far too good at seeing through me nonsense. Ye’ll probably inherit that. Which means I’m doomed tae a life of being managed by MacRae women.”

The baby made a sound that might have been agreement.

“And today yer grandda steps down as laird, which means yer da becomes responsible fer an entire clan.” Brian pressed a kiss to her downy head, breathing in that sweet baby scent. “Nay pressure, but ye’re goin’ tae have tae learn tae sleep through the night so I can actually think clearly.”

Maisie’s eyes were drifting closed again, her breathing evening out. Brian waited until he was certain she was truly asleep before carrying her carefully back to the cradle in their chamber. Elena watched from the bed, her expression soft in the dim light filtering through the window.

“Ye’re good at that,” she said quietly.

“At what? Walking in circles and talking tae someone who cannae understand a word I’m saying?” Brian climbed back into bed, pulling Elena against his side with practiced ease.

“At loving her. At nae being afraid tae show it.” Elena’s hand found his chest, resting over his heart. “Ye’re naethin’ like yer faither.”

“I’m trying nae tae be better,” he admitted. “Every day I wake up afraid I’ll make the same mistakes. That I’ll push her away or make her feel nae good enough.”

“Ye willnae. Because ye’re aware of it. And because ye have me tae keep ye honest.” Elena tilted her head back, her light brown eyes meeting his in the growing dawn light. “How are ye feeling about today?”

“Terrified. Honored. Completely unqualified.” Brian’s hand found her hair, fingers threading through strands that had finally grown past her shoulders. “The usual.”

“Ye’re more than qualified. The clan loves ye. They’ve seen what ye can dae.”

“They’ve seen me fight and give orders. That’s nae the same as leading in peacetime.” His jaw tightened. “What if I make the wrong choice that makes people suffer because I’m nae wise enough or experienced enough?”

“Then ye’ll learn and dae better next time,” Elena told him softly but firmly. “Good leaders admit mistakes and grow from them. Unlike yer faither, who just blamed everyone else.”

“He’s changed. This past year, he’s been different.”

“Aye. Because he finally sees ye clearly instead of through the lens of his own grief.” Elena shifted, propping herself up on one elbow so she could see his face properly. “He’s giving ye the lairdship because ye’ve earned it. Because ye’re ready. Believe that.”

Brian pulled her down for a kiss that was meant to be brief but deepened when Elena’s hand slid into his hair. She tasted like home and safety and everything good he’d never thought he deserved. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard.

“We dinnae have time fer this,” Elena said, but her voice was breathy, unconvincing.

“We have at least an hour before anyone expects us.” Brian’s mouth found her throat, pressing kisses there that made her shiver. “And I need tae calm me nerves before the ceremony.”

“This is yer idea of calming nerves?”

“Aye. Works remarkably well too.” His hand slid beneath her nightdress, finding warm skin that made them both gasp. “Unless ye’d rather I pace anxiously instead?”

“Pacing is terrible fer the floors.” Elena pulled him closer, her legs wrapping around his waist. “We should definitely avoid that.”

***

Two hours later, Elena stood in the great hall watching her husband become a laird.

The ceremony was simpler than she’d expected, just Ivor passing the clan sword to Brian while witnesses looked on. But the weight of the moment was palpable. Brian had spent a lifetime earning it, proving himself worthy of leadership while believing he never would be.

Now his father knelt before him, swearing fealty to the new laird with words that carried decades of complicated history.

When Ivor rose, there were tears in his eyes.

Brian’s throat worked visibly, his green eyes bright. Around them, the clan erupted in cheers. Warriors shouted Brian’s name. Women wept. Children who’d grown up watching him train warriors now saw him take his rightful place.

Elena felt her own tears start, hot and unexpected. That man who’d freed her chains had become hers. Had given her a home and a purpose and a daughter. Had shown her that survival could transform into living, that trauma didn’t have to define everything.

Tristan appeared at her elbow, his storm-gray eyes warm as he watched Brian accept congratulations from clan members. “He’ll be a good laird.”

“Aye. He will.” Elena leaned against her brother, grateful for his solid presence. “Thank ye. Fer giving yer blessing. Fer nae forcing me back tae Jura.”

“I’d have lost ye if I’d tried.” Tristan’s arm came around her shoulders, careful and gentle. “This is where ye belong.”

“It is.” Elena watched Brian across the hall, taking in the confident set of his shoulders, the way he listened to each person with complete focus. “He saved me in more ways than just killing Alistair.”

“Ye saved each other.” Tristan pressed a kiss to her temple. “That’s what love daes.”

Margaret joined them, beautiful and radiant. She carried Maisie, who’d woken from her nap and was making sounds of general displeasure at being surrounded by so many loud strangers.

“Someone wants her mam,” Margaret said, passing the baby over with practiced ease.

Elena settled Maisie against her shoulder, swaying automatically. The baby quieted, her tiny hand fisting in Elena’s dress. Across the hall, Brian’s eyes found them, his expression softening in a way that was reserved only for his family.

He excused himself from whatever conversation he’d been having and crossed to them, his movements purposeful. When he reached Elena, his hand came up to cradle their daughter’s head with gentleness.

“How’s our girl?” His voice was low, intimate despite the crowd around them.

“Angry at all the noise. She gets that from ye.”

“I’m nae angry at noise. I’m particular about me peace and quiet.” But he was smiling, that crooked expression that made Elena’s stomach flip even after a year of marriage. “Are ye all right?”

“I’m perfect.” And she was. Standing in a great hall that had once felt like another cage, surrounded by family both blood and chosen, watching her husband become the leader he was always meant to be.

“Aye, ye are.” Brian leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead that lingered. “Thank ye.”

“Fer what?”

“Fer staying. Fer choosing this life. Fer giving me everything I never knew I needed.” His free hand found hers, threading their fingers together. “Fer loving me even when I was too stubborn tae see I deserved it.”

Elena’s throat tightened. “Always.”

The word was a promise and a vow and a future stretching ahead of them. Not perfect, because nothing ever was. But theirs, built from ashes and blood and the kind of love that survived impossible odds.

Laird Brian Gunn and his lady stood together in the great hall, their daughter cradled between them, and looked toward tomorrow.

The End.

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