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T he third and final night of their journey found them camped along the rugged coastline that marked the outer boundaries of MacNeil territory.

The keep was now less than a day's ride inland, but Ewan had chosen to make their final camp here beside the sea, wanting to give Lileas one last peaceful night before the responsibilities of being lady of the keep began in earnest.

"It's beautiful," Lileas breathed, watching the waves crash against the rocky shore in endless rhythm.

"Aye," Ewan agreed, standing close behind her as they watched the sun sink toward the western waters. "This has always been one of my favorite places. I wanted ye to see it before we reach the keep."

Patrick and Grant had built their fire in the shelter of a small cave that faced away from the wind, and their sleeping area was arranged just outside the cave mouth where they could enjoy the sound of the waves while remaining sheltered.

As they settled down for the night, wrapped once again in Ewan's plaid and sharing the warmth of their bodies, Lileas reflected on how much had changed in just three days.

The shy uncertainty of their first night seemed like a distant memory now.

She nestled against Ewan's chest with easy familiarity, her head tucked beneath his chin as his arms encircled her.

"Tomorrow we'll be home," he murmured against her hair, his voice carrying both anticipation and something that might have been nervousness.

"Are ye worried about how yer clan will receive me?" she asked softly.

"Nay," he said firmly. "They'll accept ye because I said so."

She smirked. "Aye, and yer word is law?"

"Always," he replied with a grin.

They drifted off to sleep lulled by the eternal song of the sea.

***

D AWN WAS brEAKING GRAY and cold over the water when the attack came.

Lileas was jolted awake by an almighty roar of rage.

Ewan's voice raised in a battle cry that seemed to shake the very stones around them.

Her eyes snapped open to find him already on his feet, sword in hand, facing half a dozen mounted figures who had approached their camp in the pre-dawn darkness.

"Fergusons!" he bellowed, his voice carrying a fury that made her blood run cold. "Ye dare much, coming onto my lands!"

The lead rider, a giant of a man with cold, calculating eyes, laughed harshly. "Yer lands for now, MacNeil. But we've come for what should belong with our clan."

"She's wasted here!" another Ferguson fighter called out. "Her skills would be better served among those who truly understand their value!"

Patrick and Grant were moving even as the words were spoken, their weapons appearing in their hands with the fluid grace of seasoned warriors. But they were outnumbered two to one, and the Fergusons had positioned themselves to cut off retreat.

"Lileas!" Ewan shouted without taking his eyes off the enemy. "The cave. Run to the cave and hide!"

But even as he spoke, the Ferguson raiders spurred their horses forward with wild Highland war cries, their weapons gleaming wickedly in the growing light. Steel rang against steel as Ewan met the first attacker's charge.

"Go!" he commanded, parrying another thrust while Grant and Patrick engaged their own opponents with deadly efficiency.

Lileas scrambled toward the cave mouth, but instead of fleeing to its depths, her mind was already working with methodical precision.

Near the dying embers of their fire, she spotted what she needed: a thick layer of wood ash mixed with sand and salt from the beach, along with the remains of the charcoal they'd used for cooking.

Working with desperate efficiency, Lileas tore strips from her garment then packed the cloth with the ash mixture and several sharp stones. Using leather cords from their gear, she fashioned makeshift slings, crude but effective weapons.

The sound of battle was growing more desperate. Ewan was fighting like a man possessed, his fury at the threat to his wife driving him onwards. But the Fergusons were skilled fighters who had clearly planned this attack carefully.

The leader pressed forward with obvious intent to reach Lileas while his men kept her protectors busy. "Take the lass!" he bellowed to his nearest companion. "She's worth more than gold!"

"Aye, Dugald!" another Ferguson fighter called back, parrying a thrust from Patrick's sword. "The laird will reward us well!"

The words chilled Ewan to the bone even as he fought desperately against two attackers. These men didn't want ransom or simple plunder: they wanted Lileas herself.

Amidst the chaos of battle, Lileas lit the first of her improvised weapons with a glowing ember and began to whirl it overhead, aiming for the men.

The burning bundle struck the nearest man square in the chest, exploding in a shower of sparks and hot ash that sent man and mount into screaming panic.

The effect was immediate. Confusion reigned as their attackers struggled to control their horses. Lileas rapidly filled another sling, lit it, and sent its burden hurtling towards the startled men.

"Witchcraft!" one of them shouted, struggling to control his panicked horse. "The lass commands fire itself! Take her quickly!"

But the tide of battle was already turning. The explosion of ash and flame had scattered the Ferguson formation, giving Grant and Patrick the opening they needed to press their advantage.

It was then that the thunder of hoofbeats echoed from inland. A party of MacNeil warriors led by a guardsman named Cameron came riding hard across the packed earth, having spotted the Ferguson riders crossing their borders at dawn.

"MacNeil!" they shouted, their battle cry carrying the fury of men defending their own land.

The scarred Ferguson leader—Dugald—saw the approaching reinforcements and knew his chance was slipping away. With his men scattered and wounded, retreat was the only option.

"This isn't finished, MacNeil!" he snarled, backing toward where his surviving men were trying to rally. "We will have her!"

"Set foot on my lands again and I'll kill every last one of ye!" Ewan roared, his voice carrying the promise of death. "Any man who threatens my wife answers to my steel!"

The Fergusons were already in retreat, their wounded leader helping to lift injured men onto their mounts as the MacNeil reinforcements closed in, driving the Fergusons off their land and into the forest beyond.

Even so, Dugald's voice could be heard shouting, "This won't be forgotten, MacNeil! She's worth more than ye ken!"

The words sent a chill through Ewan. He turned and stormed towards Lileas, his gaze unwavering. She dropped the sling just as he enveloped her in his arms and kissed her like a man possessed. "Are ye hurt, love?" he rasped, quickly looking her over.

Lileas shook her head. "I am well."

Then he stepped away and roared, "When I say run and hide, ye run and hide! Ye dinnae dive head first into battle throwing flaming dirt about the place. Ye could've been hurt or taken!"

Lileas's spine immediately stiffened and she bellowed in return, "I was not about to let them hurt ye, ye stubborn ox!

I kenned what to do and I did it." She was glaring at him now with her hands on her hips in such righteous anger that she yelped in surprise when Ewan reached across, pulled her into his arms, and slammed his lips over hers again.

What followed was a passionately fierce embrace as they battled for supremacy, completely forgetting they had an audience.

They were interrupted by Cameron who cleared his throat several times to get his laird's attention. Eventually they separated, panting deeply as if they'd run several miles. But Ewan clasped Lileas's hand tightly in his and drew her close to his side.

"Laird, we've secured the area. I've sent men to make sure they dinnae return."

"Aye, thank ye!" Ewan replied as he tried to shake the passionate haze. "I want a full patrol of our borders. Every approach, every glen, every path the bastards might use. If they're still on MacNeil land, I want them found and driven off."

"Aye, consider it done," Cameron replied.

"And send riders ahead to the keep," Ewan continued. "I want the gates secured and the watch doubled. No one enters or leaves without my personal permission."

Grant and Patrick exchanged glances at their laird's intensity, but they moved quickly to follow his orders. They had never seen Ewan like this, the controlled, charismatic leader replaced by a man whose protective instincts had been unleashed.

"Husband," Lileas said quietly, placing her hand over his. "We're safe now. The Fergusons are gone."

"For now," he replied grimly, his eyes still scanning the horizon. "But they'll be back, Lil. And next time they'll come with more men, better planning. They made it clear they want ye specifically."

"Then we'll be ready for them," she said firmly.

Ewan's expression softened slightly as he looked at her, but the underlying tension remained. "Aye. But not like this, caught in the open. Once we're behind the walls of the keep, I can better protect ye."

As they prepared to resume their journey, now with a full escort of Cameron's men, Ewan continued issuing orders with military precision. The relaxed, tender husband of the past three nights had been replaced by a Highland chief who saw enemies in every shadow.

"Laird," Cameron said carefully as they mounted their horses, "a warning. Yer brother Connor will need to be briefed. He has not been in the best mood of late."

"Connor will do as I command," Ewan cut him off. "The keep will be locked down completely. No one travels alone, especially the women. Especially my wife."

Lileas made to fetch her mare, but Ewan pulled her once again to his side.

"Ye ride with me from now on, wife." No sooner were those words spoken than Lileas was hoisted onto his destrier.

Ewan sat behind her and pulled her back against his front, holding the reins and keeping her firmly in place before he commanded them all to ride.

The journey to MacNeil Keep passed in tense silence, with Ewan constantly scanning their surroundings as his men fanned out, forming a protective barrier on all sides to protect Lileas. Every shadow was a potential threat, every movement in the distance a possible enemy.

As the massive walls of MacNeil Keep finally came into view, Lileas felt Ewan relax slightly behind her. Soon they would be behind walls that could withstand a siege, surrounded by his own men, in the heart of MacNeil power.

But she also realized that this ordeal had changed something fundamental between them.

The gentle courtship of their journey was over, replaced by a bond forged in danger and tested by fire.

They were no longer just husband and wife by arrangement—they were partners who had fought for each other, who had proven their willingness to risk everything to protect what they were building together.

As the keep's gates came into view, Lileas suspected that the real test of their marriage was just beginning.

***