Makenna arched her brows in disbelief. Leon’s eyes glinted like black beetles as his mouth crinkled into a smile. “I can see the surprise and doubt in your eyes. Over two thousand of my men are converging on your stronghold as we speak.”

The blood drained out of Makenna’s face. “But there is no one here but women, old men, and children!”

Leon clucked his tongue. “Left to defend themselves by your Highlander. Would you like to renounce him now? The man you agreed to marry has left you and your clan vulnerable. I assure you, I protect what I value.”

Makenna took a deep breath. Leon MacCuaig was filled with hate and greed, but he was not unintelligent. She would not have multiple chances to make her move. “Colin does as well. I would never renounce him, not even if you forced me in the very bed we share.”

Colin felt Dunlop lurch at her words and grabbed the angry commander pulling him back. Dunlop look confused at his laird’s unnatural calmness. “Why, Colin? Why would Makenna—”

Colin motioned for him to be quiet. He knew his wife was loyal to him. Makenna must have a reason to goad MacCuaig to their solar. Something was there. Something that would give her an advantage.

“You will renounce him, and in that very room. Do you think the Highlander will come back for you? A wild Lowlander so incredibly different from his beloved first wife?”

At the mention of her sister, Makenna recoiled. Leon pounced. “Ah, forgot about her, did you? Do you honestly think that a man who would love Deirdre, could love you? She was everything you are not. Meek, fair, mild, and soft-spoken. I ask you. Do you believe him when he says he loves you? The man was devoted to her. Never left her side, but with you it seems he leaps at the chance. He is gone for weeks at a time, leaving you to deal alone with your troublesome clan. And now, he vanishes for the Highlands without you. How could he promise his heart to you when he had already given it away?”

MacCuaig was speaking the questions aloud she had so often asked to herself. She forced herself to ignore his sharp barbs. Colin did love her.

Leon saw the pain swim in Makenna’s eyes and knew that he had guessed correctly. “I have always loved you, and yet you spurned my requests for your hand. I have decided to forgive you for marrying McTiernay. I am here now, and you will never have to see him again. You will be with me. You will be my wife.”

Makenna jutted her chin into the air and looked at him with mute defiance.

Her silence infuriated him. “I will have you, Makenna,” he whispered, yanking her to his side, gripping her so that his fingers bit into her flesh. “I will have you, and you will beg for my forgiveness before this night is over.” He thrust her away from him. Makenna stumbled again but remained upright and silent praying that God would grant her last wish. “Lock her in the solar. Search it first. I will be there soon to collect what she will give me.”

As she was being dragged away, Makenna finally found her voice and cried out, “And what is that?”

MacCuaig turned back and smirked, “Why, legitimacy, my sweet.”


Outside the town wall, Conor moved his men forward as Crawford and Donovan flanked the enemy from opposite sides. They had met and ended the majority of MacCuaig’s army by the loch and now moved toward Lochlen. MacCuaig’s men watched in horror as the coming army grew in size. The Highlander had not left as MacCuaig had promised. And he brought allies.

Screaming they moved to barricade the town wall gate and block the broken sections of the wall. Their only hope was to keep McTiernay’s army outside the town walls until support arrived. Runners had been sent to find other MacCuaig soldiers, but most of the men had scattered throughout the town or were looting within Lochlen’s outer walls.

Dunstan clansmen and women recognized the fear on the MacCuaig soldiers’ faces and began anew in their fight. Their laird had returned.

Gannon glanced around. A blood-spattered battle-axe was on the ground. Grabbing it, he pumped it in the air. “Dunstans! Open that gate! Show our laird that we are men of honor. That we know where he belongs. With us!” A roar of renewed purpose erupted just before a loud crack filled the air.

MacCuaig’s men gathered near the gate heard the Dunstan cry followed by a thunderous sound they assumed to be a lightning bolt. Moments later crazed Dunstan men and women came from nowhere attacking with a wild vengeance. Anything that could stab, puncture, or slice was being used. Realizing their numbers would not hold the gate, MacCuaig soldiers attempted to retreat, only to discover that Conor and his men had already breached the troops securing the broken portions of the wall.

Within minutes, Dunstans freed the gate and pulled the portcullises open. Riders from allied Lowland clans crossed the threshold. As understanding of their circumstances crept into their awareness, MacCuaig soldiers tried to flee or surrender. Those who decided to fight the impossible odds died quickly.

Ending the last skirmish, Conor looked around. No more MacCuaigs were in sight. He joined the other lairds to discuss the next move.

“MacCuaig’s men have vanished,” Boyd said, stating the obvious.

“They are here,” Moncreiffe countered with conviction. “And they are numerous.”

“Aye,” agreed Conor. “I saw masses of them pour out of the outer gate as I was fighting.”

Crawford took a deep breath and exhaled in disgust. “They must have seen our numbers and are hiding. They are just biding their time to attack or flee.”

Conor smiled and said, “Then I suggest we change our style from fighting to hunting. Just remember the inner walls of Lochlen are to be untouched until Colin says it is time.”

Boyd moved his men to skirt the western town wall, Crawford did the same for the east, and Moncreiffe guarded the openings so that Conor and Donovan could skirt the northern and southern portions of the town wall. Once all were in place, Conor gave the battle cry and they moved forward investigating every house, every recess, every hiding possibility. The MacCuaigs had a choice—immediate surrender or death.


Leon was at the Pinnacle Tower about to appraise his new wealth in goods when he heard the battle scream. That was no thunderbolt.

He had assumed the distant ongoing clanking of metal swords to be a few Dunstan clansmen fighting for their lives. He glanced up as lightning streaked across the darkened sky, followed by an icy wind. The battlements on two of the towers were empty of men. Instinct told him they had not retreated because of the impending storm. Not a drop of rain had yet fallen, but soon it would be pouring from the sky.

Leon headed toward Canmore Tower. So the Highlander had not left the Lowlands as he had led everyone to believe. It mattered little. Leon still possessed what he had come for. He had Makenna.

“You!” Leon screamed at one of the guards standing in front of the main entrance to the great hall. “Go tell those not standing watch to close and bar the main gate!”

The man scurried away, and Leon continued toward his destination. He was just passing the Black Tower when the wind kicked up and his senses came alive. He stopped cold and his heart began to pound. He was too late. McTiernay was already inside. MacCuaig turned and disappeared.


Conor surveyed the last group of MacCuaigs captured and ordered them to be brought outside the town wall and held with the others. The men obviously had not supported their laird’s decision to attack their neighbor. Too many of them had surrendered rather than fight to their death.

Hearing a rider approach, Conor turned around, whipping his claymore into position. Immediately, his arm slackened at his seeing Drake.

Drake swung off his horse. “Colin sent me to find you.”

Following Conor’s lead, the other lairds dismounted and circled around the young commander as he used a stick to outline Colin’s plan.

Easing back to a standing position, Conor rubbed his chin and then nodded. “Seamus, go tell the men we advance on Lochlen. Colin is ready.”


Makenna wiggled her numb fingers, feeling the coarse rope of her bindings against her wrists. She drew a lungful of air and exhaled. Her breath was briefly visible before it disappeared. She thought about shouting at the guards stationed just outside the door to light the hearth but decided she would rather wait for MacCuaig. Having him delay his intentions until the room was warm might give her the time she needed.

A shout filled the air, then another. Then came the screams. The battle being fought was clearly one-sided and coming from the great hall. Something had changed MacCuaig’s mind about keeping her people alive to be used against her as leverage. They were dying.

Makenna resumed her struggle against her bindings. Tricking MacCuaig into sending her to the solar seemed like a brilliant plan. She could retrieve the sword Camus made for Colin, and with some luck, use it to kill MacCuaig.

Luck, however, had different plans.

First, MacCuaig had not brought her to the solar, but a huge nameless brute. Luck continued to desert her when the soldier conducted an infuriatingly good search of the room. Upon finding a hidden halbert in Colin’s chest, he decided to bind her to a chair rather than leave her free until MacCuaig arrived. After ensuring that the rope could not be untied, he left her to freeze.

She still had hope. The guard had not found the true reason behind her desire to be brought to the solar. Colin’s sword was still hidden. But, unless she could find a way to loosen her bonds, there would be no way for her to retrieve the heavy weapon and attack an unprepared MacCuaig.