Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“It’s so good to see you again, Nathan,” Raff said.
“We’ve missed you, Raff, and glad you’re finally home. And just in time to take your rightful place.”
“Rightful place?”
“Knowing he was close to death, and having no heirs, Angus claimed you the next Chieftain of Clan MacCannish,” Nathan said. “You are the rightful Chieftain. Chafton lied and laid claim to the title for himself with you not being around. But truth always finds its way.”
Raff shook his head slowly, overwhelmed.
“Chieftain Angus let it be known that you were strong and brave enough to keep the clan well-protected and prosperous,” Nathan said. “The clan needs you and you’ll make a fine chieftain.” He chuckled and bumped his shoulder against Raff. “Not as good as me but fine nonetheless.”
The villagers had fallen quiet, eyes wide, heads turning toward Raff and the man who had called him brother, listening to the astonishing news.
Nathan raised his arm and shouted. “To my brother, Raff, the new Chieftain of Clan MacCannish.”
A tremendous cheer rang out, the villagers relieved that such a good and honorable man would now reign over them.
Ingrid managed to slip through the crowd and get to her husband’s side, slipping her fingers into his hand, her touch welcoming.
“I thought I was no one,” Raff murmured to her, his voice breaking. “Forgotten. Unseen. But you saw me, Ingrid. You always saw me.”
Her eyes glistened as she whispered back, “And I always will.”
Cheers continued to rise from the crowd, strong and happy. It was for the harvest, for Ingrid’s rescue, for the return of a brother. But mostly, it was for the mending of wrongs, the quiet magic of love—and the promise of a new chieftain who had fought battles no one had seen.
As night fell, and dancing began beneath the stars, Raff stood with Ingrid in his arms, his family beside him, and the village celebrating him.
The season of sorrow had ended.
And a new one—richer, brighter, and filled with the kind of magic only love could make—had just begun.
Off to the side, unnoticed by most but always watching, Ingrid’s mum tugged her cloak tighter around her and gave a satisfied nod. “One daughter down,” she muttered to herself, casting a last look at Raff and Ingrid, now laughing together as the villagers danced around them. “Two more to go.” With a hum and a grin, she turned toward the forest path, her footsteps light. “Now, that other fool of a warrior better be where I sent him…”
THE END