"Come in," Mhairi called.
The door opened, and Callum stepped inside, looking uncomfortable in formal attire. His usual warrior's garb had been replaced with a fine tunic and trousers, and he kept tugging at the collar like it was trying to strangle him.
"Me laird sent me tae check on ye," he said. "Make sure ye hadnae changed yer mind and climbed out a window."
"Tell him I'm nae that easily frightened." Mhairi grinned. "And tell him if he's nervous, he can always run away. I'll understand."
Callum's mouth twitched. "I think we both ken he's nae goin' anywhere. Man's been pacin' the solar like a caged wolf all mornin'. Peadar threatened to tie him to a chair if he didnae settle."
The image made Mhairi laugh despite her own nerves.
Alpin, her fierce warrior laird, nervous about their wedding. It was sweet.
"Is everyone ready?" she asked.
"Aye. The priest is waitin' in the great hall, and half the clan is already seated. The other half is still tryin' tae find space." Callum's expression softened. "It's a good turnout, lass. Everyone wanted tae be here."
Warmth bloomed in Mhairi's chest. A month ago, she'd been a stranger. Now she was one of them.
"Then I shouldnae keep them waitin'."
Kenina handed her a bouquet of wildflowers tied with ribbon.
"Ready?" Freya asked.
Mhairi nodded, even though her heart was hammering against her ribs. "Aye. I'm ready."
They descended together, the castle alive with voices. As they approached the great hall, Mhairi drew in a breath.
It had been transformed. Flowers hung from the rafters, candles burned in every sconce, and people packed every available space. Warriors stood along the walls, villagers filled the benches, and children sat cross-legged on the floor near the front.
But Mhairi barely saw any of them.
Because there, at the far end of the hall, stood Alpin.
He was dressed in his clan colors, his fair hair combed back, his face clean-shaven for once. He looked like he'd stepped out of a dream. Tall and strong and completely focused on her.
Their eyes met across the crowd, and everything else faded away.
Mhairi started walking, one foot in front of the other, keeping her gaze locked on his. The crowd was silent now, watching, but she didn’t care.
All that mattered was getting to him.
When she reached the front, Alpin stepped forward and took her hand. His fingers were warm, steady, and when he smiled at her, it was like the sun breaking through clouds.
"Hello, lass," he said softly.
"Hello, laird," she whispered back.
The priest cleared his throat, and the ceremony began.
Mhairi barely heard the words. She was too focused on Alpin's face, on the way he was looking at her like she was the only person in the world. His thumb brushed across her knuckles, a steady rhythm that grounded her.
When it came time for the vows, Alpin spoke first, his voice carrying through the hall.
"I, Alpin MacDougal, take ye, Mhairi Munro, tae be me wife. I promise tae protect ye, tae honor ye, and tae stand by ye through whatever comes. From this day forward, ye're mine, and I'm yers. Always."
Simple words. Direct. So very Alpin.
