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A ilis regarded the weathered target ahead, ignoring the din of pre-wedding festivities. Lachlan joined her with a roguish smile.

“Ye think ye can best me, lass?” he teased, his eyes gleaming playfully.

“Perhaps I do.” Ailis chuckled. “A McAfee never backs down from a challenge.”

Their friendly rivalry charged the air as they faced off in knife-throwing, which Ailis had never lost a contest in.

Why, she’d even beaten all competitors at the Highland Games where she and her sisters had met the McClain brothers.

Determination surged within Ailis as she grasped the hilt.

With graceful strength, she threw, striking true at the target’s heart.

The onlookers gasped. Lachlan seemed impressed. “Ye wield a knife as if born to it,” he conceded warmly. “I thought how well ye threw may have been a fluke for the Highland Games, and yet, it seems constant.”

She smiled. “I never would have competed if I hadn’t been certain of my abilities.”

The crowd dispersed, leaving them alone.

A quiet turmoil grew within Ailis as she recognized her feelings for Lachlan deepening beyond mere jest. He was charming and witty, but their clans’ union depended on political alliances, not emotions.

Despite this knowledge, she was tempted by Lachlan’s gaze to forget such weighty responsibilities.

Lachlan approached Ailis. “I have heard ye are a great storyteller. Would ye share a story of a heroine who triumphs against the odds?”

Ailis’s pulse quickened as she considered his request. “I’ll try.” Her calm voice hid her inner turmoil. “But remember, not all tales end as we hope.”

“Let’s hope this one does,” Lachlan replied, handing back her knife. Their hands brushed for a moment.

Ailis felt a shiver run through her at the touch of Lachlan’s hand, a sensation that lingered even after he withdrew. She took a deep breath to compose herself before she began her tale, her voice carrying a melodic cadence that drew the attention of all who were near.

“In a land filled with mist and shadows, there lived a young woman named Marta,” Ailis began, her eyes filled with the fire of storytelling. “She was no ordinary maiden but possessed a spirit as fierce as the wildest storm and a heart as pure as the mountain springs.”

As she wove her story, Ailis painted vivid pictures with her words, transporting her rapt listener to a world of daring adventures and impossible challenges.

The tale unfolded like a living painting, with Marta at its center as she faced adversaries both mortal and magical.

“Each encounter tested her courage and strength, shaping her into a formidable heroine.”

From the dark depths of treacherous caves to the towering heights of enchanted castles, every scene was filled with palpable danger and thrilling action, pulling Lachlan deeper into the fantastical realm that Ailis had created with her masterful storytelling.

Every word dripped with magic and wonder, leaving Lachlan mesmerized.

Lachlan listened intently, his gaze never leaving Ailis. Her voice rose and fell like a melody, filling the air with the essence of bravery and love entwined in the words of her tale.

“Marta’s path was fraught with dangers and betrayals,” Ailis continued, her eyes flickering with emotion. “But through it all, she remained steadfast, guided by her unwavering belief in doing what was right, even when the odds were stacked against her.”

As she spun her tale, Ailis couldn’t help but notice the way Lachlan’s expression softened with each turn of events in Marta’s journey. It was as if he saw himself reflected in the heroism and sacrifices of the fictional heroine.

“And so, as Marta stood at the precipice of darkness, facing her greatest challenge yet,” Ailis concluded, her voice tinged with a hint of longing, “she found that it was not the battles she won that defined her, but the love she dared to embrace.”

Ailis gazed at Lachlan, her heart laid bare in the depths of her emerald eyes.

The connection between them was palpable, a silent understanding passing between their shared gaze.

For a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still.

The world around them faded away as they existed in their own bubble of unspoken emotions.

Lachlan broke the silence, his voice soft yet filled with a depth of emotion. “Yer tale is one of courage and sacrifice, Ailis.” His eyes searched hers. “It speaks of a love that transcends boundaries and defies all odds.”

A rush of conflicting emotions stirred within Ailis—desire warring with duty, passion clashing with reason. She understood that her feelings for Lachlan went beyond mere admiration. They had blossomed into something deeper, something she couldn’t easily dismiss.

As they stood there, she gazed upon his lips. For a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by a warrior such as the man before her, but she knew better than to find out. Instead, she turned back toward the keep. “We must return. The pre-wedding ceilidh is starting soon.”

Lachlan nodded, but he appeared as reluctant as she felt.

*

Ailis stood poised on the edge of the dance floor. In the midst of the pre-wedding celebration, Lachlan McClain extended his hand for a dance.

Ailis obliged, taking his hand as they stepped onto the dance floor. Their movements became an unspoken conversation.

“Ye dance well,” Lachlan observed quietly.

“As do ye. I wouldn’t have expected a warrior to be as comfortable as ye seem to be on the dance floor.”

“The battlefield and ballroom are similar,” he replied, eyes shining with humor. “Both require strategy and anticipating yer partner’s moves.”

Ailis giggled. “I think I ken. I hope ye’re not trying to win on the dance floor.”

“Always,” he answered.

“Are ye trying to win against me or others on the dance floor?” she asked, grinning up at him. She certainly understood being competitive, as she was extremely competitive by nature, but not as she danced. Nay, dancing was a time to enjoy herself and the partner she was dancing with.

“Oh, the others, of course. Dancing with ye means I’ve already won the best prize of all,” Lachlan whispered.

“Yer words flatter me.” Ailis blushed slightly.

“Are ye excited about the wedding?” he asked, guiding her through the dance’s final steps.

Ailis nodded. “I’m glad Fiona has found happiness and an alliance that pleases me father. And that they are one and the same. I canna imagine marrying just for an alliance when there is love out there, just waiting for us to find it.”

As the music ceased in the great hall, Ailis and Lachlan caught their breaths, the lingering connection between them undeniable.

“Thank ye for the dance, Lachlan,” Ailis said. She hoped there would be many more opportunities. Shaking her head, she scanned the room to make sure everyone was taken care of. She couldn’t lose herself in the man beside her and neglect her duties.

“And thank ye, Ailis,” he replied, letting go of her hand.

Ailis left the great hall for a moment, needing to just be with no one watching. The feelings for Lachlan the dance had stirred within her had surprised her more than she cared to admit.

In the quiet corridor, Ailis caught her breath, feeling the cool air on her flushed cheeks. The stone walls seemed to whisper ancient secrets.

Lachlan broke the silence. “Ailis, yer movements were like a loch’s waters dancing under moonlight.”

She turned and met his gaze. “Ye flatter me again. Perhaps ye were meant to be a courtier and not a warrior.”

“I think not.” His smile faded into contemplation. “In another life, we could explore this grace without our duties weighing us down.”

His words resonated with Ailis. “I wonder what paths we would choose if not bound by our clans’ legacies.”

A moment of shared vulnerability held them together before the sounds of the celebration interrupted their reverie.

Ailis stepped back. “We must return,” she whispered reluctantly.

“Me father will be looking for me, and he will not be happy to find me alone with a man. He likes ye, but he doesn’t like any man enough to let him be alone with his daughters. ”

Lachlan nodded, though his eyes mirrored her reluctance to return. “Aye.” He offered his arm, and she accepted it gracefully.

As they rejoined the great hall, each fleeting glance and touch heightened their anticipation for their next encounter. Through the clamor of festivities, their stolen moment lingered—a silent promise of something both desired and feared.

*

During the pre-wedding revelry, Ailis escaped to the moonlit gardens, leaving Lachlan among his kin. Moonbeams illuminated her path, and an archway of roses became her refuge.

Sensing her absence, Lachlan found her beneath the blossoming arch, moonlight weaving silver into her dark hair.

“Ye’ve left the festivities,” he observed.

“And ye’ve noticed me absence,” she countered, her soft tone betraying her inner unrest. What she would give to be able to live her life without worrying about the clan. But that was something that would never be.

“I often feel adrift in expectations,” Ailis confided. “Like a pawn on a chessboard.”

“Ye’re not alone,” he assured her, closing the distance between them. His breath made her shiver.

“Being near ye feels like teetering on a cliff’s edge,” she murmured. “Exhilarating but treacherous.”

“At least I’m not alone.” He reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. “Facing the unknown together will bring courage.”

“I wish I were free to do so,” she answered sadly.

“I ken. We must not meet alone again, then.” He carefully studied her face to see if it was what she wanted.

She nodded. “If I see ye alone, I will return to where I was. I hope ye’ll do the same for me.”

“I shall,” he murmured, but he knew he’d seek her out whenever possible. He was drawn to her in a way he never had with another woman.

Ailis allowed herself one last glance back, letting distance grow while dreaming of what could be between them.

She returned to the festivities, where Moira was watching for her. “Where did ye go?”

“I was in the courtyard. I needed some time alone without all the noise,” Ailis answered, not willing to admit the full truth.

Moira’s expression told Ailis that she didn’t believe her, but Moira said nothing.

“I think we should move the two clan tartans closer on the wall,” Ailis suggested, not wanting to continue to deceive her sister.

Moira nodded. “They are too far apart to indicate two clans joining together. It won’t be a complete merge of the two, but many will see it that way.”

“We’ll see to it after everyone has retired for the night.”

*

As the celebration continued, Ailis found herself with Lachlan yet again. Shadows danced across their faces in the torch-lit grand hall, reflecting her uncertainty. They stood apart, but the space between them hummed with unspoken words.

“Ye seem troubled, Ailis,” Lachlan remarked, gently breaking the silence.

Ailis hesitated for a moment. “Just thinking about the wedding tomorrow.”

“I’m certain me brother and yer sister will be very happy together,” he said.

“I hope so. They went through a lot to get to the point where Father would allow them to marry,” she replied.

He nodded. “I’ll be staying on for a while as Alisdair learns more about yer clan.”

Ailis worried her heart would betray her feelings for him, so she nodded. “We enjoy having ye here,” she replied formally. She wondered if her heart could take seeing him so often, unable to truly express her feelings.

Lachlan watched her for a moment before finally walking away. He’d hoped she would express happiness at the thought of him staying longer, but she’d disappointed him.

Much later, Ailis stood watching Lachlan as he moved through the crowd.

“Ye are contemplative this eve,” observed Lachlan, his presence commanding and comforting.

“Merely gathering me thoughts,” she replied evenly. “Fiona looks so happy.”

“As does Alisdair. I’m pleased they’ve found one another. The alliance is exactly what Clan McClain needed.” He didn’t say it, but they both knew the McAfees needed the alliance a great deal more than the McClains.

“And Clan McAfee,” Ailis added. “I worry the unrest we’ve seen will not end with this wedding, though I hope it does.”

“We cannot know unless we ask those who are leading the unrest, and they seem to be hiding their actions from our view.”

“Like cowards.”

“Aye,” he grumbled. “They are very cowardly. Merely thinking to kidnap a woman makes them cowards. And they carried it out.”

“Do ye believe Fiona’s kidnapping is connected to the men who keep attacking in unmarked plaids?”

He nodded. “I believe so, as do me brothers. But there is no proof. We cannot accuse without proof and still have peace.”

*

On the terrace, Ailis and Lachlan stood, unaware of the cloaked figure watching them from the shadows. He coldly whispered to himself, “Marriage between the McAfee sisters and the McClain men cannae be permitted.”

The figure knew their union would jeopardize his ambitions of uniting all the Highlands under one ruler—him.

Control over the clans was essential, and he’d do whatever was necessary to fulfill his goal.

They’d already thwarted his plans when Fiona married Alisdair.

The same could not be allowed for the remaining sisters.

“Love can be a powerful weapon when wielded correctly,” he mused.

He observed the couple with a sinister smile. He would wait for the perfect moment to strike, sowing doubt and discord among them. For now, he must have patience.

He watched as Lachlan uttered something that made Ailis howl.

They didn’t know it yet, but the man in the shadows plotted against them—against them falling in love, and against the world as they knew it.