Ewan's voiceheld an edge of frustration as Leon worked on the elaborate knot at his throat, trying to secure the formal plaid that Ewan almost never wore.
The heavy woolwas dyed in McGill colors—deep green and blue with threads of silver—and it felt stiff and uncomfortable after weeks of not bothering with such formality.
"It's fine,ye're just nervous," Leon said, his tone amused. "Never thought I'd see the day when Laird Ewan Byrne was nervous about anythin', let alone a weddin'."
"I'm nae nervous,"Ewan lied, then caught Leon's knowing look and sighed. "Fine. Maybe a bit nervous. But only because—" He stopped, not sure how to articulate the feeling.
"Because ye want everythin'to be perfect for her," Leon finished, stepping back to examine his handiwork. "Because after everythin' she's been through, ye want this day to be everythin' she's dreamed of."
"Aye."Ewan tugged at the collar again. "Is that foolish?"
"Nae. It's love."Leon clapped him on the shoulder. "And it suits ye, friend. Marriage suits ye. These past six weeks, I've never seen ye happier."
It was true.Despite the complications of the past six weeks—despite having to clean up the mess left by Callen Ferguson's death, despite the political maneuvering required to formally merge Clan MacMahon with Clan McGill, despite the delays that had pushed their wedding back again and again—Ewan had been happy.
Because Maia wasin his life. In his bed. In his heart.
She’d beenbeside him through all of it, offering advice when he needed it, supporting him when the burden of managing two clans became overwhelming, making him laugh when everything felt too serious.
She’d helpedhim navigate the complexities of the merger—convincing both councils that combining their strength made sense, that her father’s clan would be honored rather than absorbed, that this union would protect both bloodlines.
The solution had beenelegant in its simplicity: Kian would remain Ewan’s heir to the McGill lairdship, while any son born to Ewan and Maia would one day lead the MacMahon clan, keeping both legacies alive and strong.
She’d workedwith both councils to ensure a smooth transition. She’d even visited the castle where she’d been imprisoned for so long, walking through those halls with her head held high, reclaiming the spaces that had once held only pain.
And through it all,she’d been his. Completely, wonderfully his.”The guests are all assembled,” Leon said, moving to the window to look out over the castle grounds. “And I just saw Aisla and Mollie headin’ toward the bride’s chambers, which means it’s almost time.”
Ewan’s stomachdid an uncomfortable flip. “How do I look?”
“Like a man about to get married.”Leon grinned. “Terrified and excited in equal measure.”
“That’s accurate.”Ewan moved to join Leon at the window, looking down at the courtyard below, where tables had been set up for the wedding feast. Lanterns hung from posts, ready to be lit when darkness fell. Musicians were already tuning their instruments in preparation for the ceilidh that would follow the ceremony.
Everything was ready.Everything was perfect.
Now all he needed was his bride.***
The great hallhad been transformed. Every surface was decorated with autumn flowers, heather and thistle and wild roses that Maia had insisted on despite the late season. Candles flickered in every corner, casting a warm glow over the assembled guests.
Ewan stoodat the front of the hall, Leon beside him, and watched the door with barely contained impatience. Around them, the clan had gathered—familiar faces and new ones, McGill and MacMahon alike, united for this celebration.
Kian was practically vibratingwith excitement in the front row, his face split by a huge grin. The boy had been overjoyed when Ewan had confirmed that the betrothal was real, that Maia would truly become his aunt through marriage. He’d immediately started planning all the things they’d do together as a family.
The musicians struck up a processional,and the hall fell silent.
The doors opened.
And Ewan forgothow to breathe.
Maia stood in the doorway,backlit by the fading afternoon sun, and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Her dress was deep green,McGill green, with silver embroidery along the bodice and sleeves. Her brown hair was partially pinned back with small flowers woven through it, the rest falling in soft waves past her shoulders. And her face?—
Her face was radiant.Glowing with happiness and love and a joy so pure it made Ewan’s chest ache.
She caughthis eye across the hall and smiled, that dimpled smile he loved so much, and started walking toward him.
Mollie walked beside her,having taken on the role Maia’s father would have played if he’d been alive. The maid looked nearly as happy as the bride, her own eyes shining with tears as she escorted her friend down the aisle.
