Page 136 of Under the Laird’s Promise

"Aye. Keir's dead. His men are scattered. The threat is done."

She sagged against him, the adrenaline finally draining. Tavish held her upright, supporting her weight easily.

MacEwan guards surrounded them now, weapons drawn, scanning for remaining threats. The captain of the guard approached, his expression grim.

"Me lady, are ye harmed?"

"I'm fine." Maighread's voice strengthened.

Tavish turned to the captain of the guard. "Check the perimeter. Make sure nay more Sinclair forces are hiding in the grounds."

"Aye, me laird." The guards dispersed, moving through the garden. Greg organized them, his voice carrying commands. Within minutes, the area was secured.

Tavish finally allowed himself to breathe properly. Maighread was safe. Keir was dead. The castle was secure.

It was over.

He looked down at his wife, taking in every detail. Torn dress, disheveled hair, blood-stained hands. The pendant he'd given her still gleamed at her throat, untouched by the violence.

"Ye fought well," he said softly.

"So did ye."

"I was terrified. Seeing ye in danger like that…"

"I ken. I felt the same watching ye fight Keir." Her hand came up to cup his face. "But we survived. Taegether."

"Always taegether."

Greg returned, sheathing his sword. "Perimeter is clear. Found two Sinclair soldiers hiding in the stables. They're being questioned now."

"Good." Tavish forced himself to think tactically again. "Send riders tae the border villages. Make sure there are nay more attacks planned. And double the guards on all approaches."

"Already done. Ye’re thinking like a laird now."

"I'm thinking like someone who nearly lost everything."

Maighread's arms tightened around him. "But ye didnae. We're here. We're alive. We won."

Tavish pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her temple, then her mouth. Soft and claiming and grateful beyond words. When he lifted his head, Greg was smirking.

"Should I give ye two some privacy?"

"Nay." Tavish kept one arm around Maighread but turned to survey the garden properly. Bodies lay scattered across the paths. Blood stained the stone. The peaceful place where he'd given his wife a cherished heirloom was now a battlefield.

But they'd won. That was all that mattered.

"Help me check fer survivors," Tavish said. "Anyone injured gets taken tae the healers. The dead…" He glanced at Keir's body. "Wrap them and send them back tae Sinclair lands with a message. Their laird attacked MacEwan Castle and paid the price. Any further aggression will be met with total war."

Greg nodded approvingly. "Aye. That should discourage future problems."

They moved through the garden systematically, Greg and Tavish checking bodies while Maighread directed the guards. Most of the Sinclair soldiers were dead. Two were injured badly enough to need carrying. They were taken under guard to the healers.

When they reached Keir's body, Tavish paused. He should have felt feel triumph. Victory. Instead, he just felt tired.

"What a waste," he said quietly.

Maighread appeared at his side. "He chose this path. Ye gave him every chance tae walk away."