Three months prior, MacAlpin Castle

 
They were all there.

That alone felt like a small miracle. Aileen was sitting on the edge of the narrow bed in the chamber they had once shared, five girls crammed into a space never meant for so many dreams. She chuckled as her sisters’ voices overlapped around her.

The chamber felt smaller than she remembered, but warmer too, filled with familiar scents and the easy intimacy of people who had grown up together and never quite grown apart.

Isolde stood behind her, tall and composed even now, drawing the brush through Aileen’s hair with steady, unhurried strokes. Her own dark, ginger hair was tamed into a neat style that never quite hid its natural fire. Calm under pressure and fiercely protective of her sisters, she was the one they wanted next to them when things went wrong.

Her touch was practiced and careful, as though she were smoothing more than tangles.

“Ye still refuse tae cut it,” Isolde observed with an expression that promised she had already thought of a solution to any difficult matter. “I admire the stubbornness, although I take this as a personal affront.”

“Jealousy daesnae suit ye,” Aileen replied with a grin.

“On the contrary,” Isla cut in from where she was lounging against the wardrobe, “it suits her perfectly… very dignified jealousy.”

As always, Isla was impossible to miss and just as impossible to ignore, with her light brown hair, a constellation of freckles scattered across her nose and sharp, mischievous eyes that always seemed to challenge one. She carried herself like someone forever testing the limits of what she could get away with, and it was felt in her every comment.

Isolde did not even look ruffled. “Ye were always insufferable.”

“And ye adore me fer it,” Isla shot back.

Across the room, Rhona sat perched on the window bench, with one hand resting protectively on the curve of her belly. Despite her petite frame, she was proof that strength had nothing to do with size. Her presence always filled a room, her opinions arrived uninvited, but her loyalty burned hot and unyielding. A skilled healer with a fearless heart, Rhona always acted first and processed later.

“Can we take a moment tae acknowledge that we’re all here and nay one’s argued yet? This might be a record.”

“That’s because ye’re pregnant,” Isla said. “We’re being kind.”

Lorna smiled softly from her place near the hearth, watching them with fond amusement. “Give it time.”

Aileen glanced at Lorna and smiled, thinking how her sister looked like a secret one was eager to keep. Her auburn hair fell in soft waves around her expressive face. She was the most thoughtful and artistic of all the sisters, and she listened far more than she spoke, offering insight rather than advice. She always understood Aileen’s silences without ever pressing them, which made her presence both comforting and quietly formidable.

Isolde began braiding Aileen’s hair, with deft fingers that knew Aileen’s hair perfectly.

“Dae ye ken,” she asked, “that I had forgotten how loud this room gets when we’re taegether?”

Aileen glanced at their reflections in the mirror: five women now, not girls, but still unmistakably sisters.

“I missed it,” she admitted. “All of ye.”

“We missed ye,” Rhona said at once. “Especially when Isla tried tae convince us she was the sensible one.”

“A bold lie,” Lorna murmured.

Isla placed a hand to her chest. “I will have ye all ken that I am an excellent wife… most of the time.”

Laughter spilled freely, as it always did with people who deeply cared about one another. For a moment, there were no distant estates, no responsibilities and no husbands waiting elsewhere, only the familiar comfort of shared history.

“So,” Rhona said after a moment, “any great romance on the horizon fer the only unmarried MacAlpin sister?”

Aileen rolled her eyes. “Must we?”

“Aye,” Isla said brightly. “It’s tradition.”

Isolde tied off the braid with a small ribbon. “Leave her be,” she said, though her smile betrayed her. “Love comes when it’s ready.”

“And when it does,” Lorna added gently, “it’ll be someone who sees her clearly.”

There was a brief, suspicious pause. Then, Isla’s eyes lit with unmistakable mischief. “Well then, let’s be helpful.”

Aileen groaned. “Please dinnae.”

“Too late,” Rhona said cheerfully. “I’ve already thought of three.”

Isolde arched a brow. “Gods help us.”

“Laird Allardice,” Isla announced at once. “Tall, handsome and owns half the glen.”

“He also talks exclusively about sheep,” Aileen said flatly.

“Important sheep,” Isla countered.

Laughter rippled through the room.

“Absolutely nae,” Rhona said, waving a hand. “What about Laird Morrison?”

“The one who proposed tae his last wife by letter?” Aileen asked.

“And spelled her name wrong,” Lorna added quietly.

Isolde winced. “Unforgivable.”

Rhona shrugged. “The nerve.”

Isla was already pacing again. “Fine. Laird Erskine, then. Wealthy, respectable and very tidy.”

“He faints at the sight of blood,” Aileen frowned. “He once swooned at dinner when the roast was cut too enthusiastically.”

That sent Rhona into helpless laughter, with one hand braced on the window bench. “I remember that!”

Isolde tried and failed to maintain composure. “Aileen would terrify him within a fortnight.”

“Days,” Isla corrected. “Hours, if she sharpened a knife in his presence.”

“What about Laird Haldane?” Lorna offered mildly.

Aileen tilted her head. “The one who refuses tae sleep indoors because he believes roofs trap dreams?”

Isla clapped. “That’s the one! Very creative.”

“Mad,” Aileen said.

“Passionate,” Isla insisted.

Rhona wiped her eyes. “Ye’d never get a full night’s sleep.”

The room dissolved into laughter, as old memories tumbled out with each ridiculous suggestion.

Isolde finally raised a hand. “Enough. Clearly, none of Scotland’s lairds are worthy.”

Aileen smiled, breathless with laughter, but her heart warm. “Thank ye,” she said. “I feel thoroughly spared.”

“Fer now,” Isla said ominously.

Aileen groaned, but she was still smiling. “I should have kent better than tae sit still in a room with all of ye.”

“That’s love,” Rhona said promptly. “Lowering yer guard at exactly the wrong moment.”

Isolde shook her head in pure amusement. “Love is trusting people who will absolutely use it against ye.”

Lorna laughed softly at that, then sobered just enough to say, “It’s also choosing tae stay, even when it would be easier tae leave.”

The room quieted, just enough for the words to land.

Rhona traced a slow circle over her belly. “I used tae think love was fire,” she mused. “All heat and danger. Turns out it’s… safety. Or at least learning how tae feel safe again.”

Isla tilted her head, considering her words. “I still think it should involve a bit of danger.”

“Of course ye dae,” Isolde said dryly. “But even danger needs trust.”

Aileen listened, her smile gentler now. “So, love is… trust, and patience, and someone who stays?”

“And laughter,” Lorna added. “If ye cannae laugh together, ye’ll drown in the serious parts.”

Isolde met Aileen’s eyes in the mirror. “And love should never make ye smaller,” she pointed out importantly. “If it daes, it’s wrong.”

Aileen nodded, feeling something settle quietly inside her. “Then I suppose I’ll wait fer the right kind.”

Isla grinned. “Aye, wait. But nae too patiently, we’re running out of lairds.”

Rhona snapped her fingers suddenly. “Och!”

Everyone jumped.

“What?” Isla demanded. “If this is another laird with questionable habits—”

“Nay, nay,” Rhona said, laughing. “I cannae believe we nearly fergot.”

Forgot what was a dangerous thing to ask in that room.

Still, Isolde dared to ask warily. “Fergot what, exactly?”

Rhona’s grin turned downright wicked. “How love actually found us.”

There was a moment of silence.

Then Lorna’s eyes widened. “The passage.”

Aileen blinked. “The… passage?”

Isla burst out laughing. “Saints preserve us, she truly never used it.”

Isolde sighed, though there was fondness in it. “Of course she did nae.”

Rhona leaned back against the window bench, utterly delighted. “The secret passage behind the panel, the one we used tae sneak out on certain nights.”

“I ken of it,” Aileen assured them.

Isolde studied her more closely. “But ye never used it.”

Aileen shook her head, feeling unashamed. “I never had the need.”

“The rest of us,” Isla said, grinning, “were desperate.”

“Adventurous,” Rhona corrected.

“Reckless,” Isolde added.

Lorna smiled. “Hopeful.”

Aileen listened, with her gaze drifting almost unconsciously to the familiar section of wall, the panel whose seam she had traced as a girl. She had always known it was there. She had always known where it led. She had simply never felt compelled to open it.

“I suppose,” she said thoughtfully, “I never wanted tae leave.”

Lorna met her eyes, something gentle passing between them. “And perhaps that’s why yer love will come a different way.”

Isla grinned. “Or later.”

“Or stronger,” Rhona added.

Aileen laughed, warmth blooming in her chest. She glanced once more at the hidden passage, not with longing, but with curiosity.

Not all doors, she realized, were meant to be opened at the same time.

Some patiently waited for the moment they were needed.

Loved this bonus chapter? Keep the adventure alive—continue the journey on your e-reader. Happy reading!

Best selling books of Lyla

★★★★★ 102 ratings

Ian Wallace never wanted to be laird, but with a dying clan to save, he has no time for complications—especially not the fierce, beautiful prisoner hidden in his own new castle. She’s a MacAlpin, born of the blood he’s sworn to hate but the fire in her eyes stirs something deeper than duty. He should send her away. Instead, he’ll risk everything to keep her.

Read the book

★★★★★ 194 ratings

Thora MacLeod always follows her visions, but kidnapping Laird Aedan Cameron and blackmailing him into a fake marriage at a dangerous Yule gathering? Not her best idea. As sparks fly in enemy territory, their feelings for one another start to complicate things. Thora knows that her visions might save their clans, but they won’t stop her heart from shattering once Aedan finds out she’s been lying to him all along…

Read the book