Helena gasped behind him, yet Logan could not let himself be distracted by her shock.

He held his brother’s enraged stare, but spoke to Helena and Mairin.

“Stay back,” he warned, unsure if Reid would draw the sword on his hip and gut him there and then.

“I heard rumors that ye’d returned to Scotland,” Reid said, his voice dangerously soft. “Some even said that ye were holed up in the Highlands somewhere. I didnae believe them, for I always imagined that ye’d died a coward’s death years ago.”

Logan’s hand burned for want of a weapon, but he refused to make the first move against his brother. Not again.

“And yet here ye are,” Reid went on, sweeping him with an icy gaze.

“I’m no’ here to relive the past,” Logan ground out.

Reid exhaled sharply through his nose. “Killing yer father and the Laird of the Mackenzies is no’ something ye can simply outrun.”

Logan heard Helena suck in another breath. Christ, this was a disaster. Everything he’d worked for, everything he’d built, was unraveling at his feet. He’d wanted to tell her this in his own time, on his own terms. But now Reid had accused him before everyone.

His mind flashed back to eleven years past. The crowds circling him, staring him down. The accusations, the damning words. His brother, sword in hand, squaring off with him. It was happening all over again.

“Believe me,” he rasped. “I ken all too well that a man cannae outrun his past.”

The other Mackenzie warriors had moved in behind Reid, staring coldly at Logan. He recognized a few faces he’d once considered friendly. Eleven years of hard living and hatred for Logan had changed them, though.

“Then ye will face the consequences for what ye’ve done at last,” Reid said, his voice as steely as his gaze.

“I didnae kill him,” Logan said, but he knew his words were meaningless. He’d proclaimed his innocence a hundred times the night his father died—the night he’d fled Eilean Donan, the Mackenzie clan keep, and began his life as a mercenary and a wanderer.

“Dinnae lie,” Reid ground out. “No’ with yer last breath.” His hand moved to his sword.

Logan remained rooted. He would not raise a weapon against Reid again, but nor would he run—not this time. He held his ground, meeting his brother’s stormy gaze unflinchingly as Reid’s blade hissed from its leather sheath.

“Reid, nay!”

Suddenly Mairin bolted from behind him and wedged herself between Logan and Reid.

“Mairin, dinnae!” he barked, reaching for her. But she wriggled out of his grasp and held her ground.

Reid froze, his sword partway unsheathed and his eyes locked on Mairin.

“Little Bird?” he breathed. “Is that ye?”

“Aye,” Mairin replied. “Aye, brother, it is me.”

Reid released the forgotten sword in his hand and it slid back into its sheath. He reached out tentatively and touched Mairin’s cheek.

“I thought ye were dead,” he murmured, scanning her face. “When no ransom request came after ye were taken, we feared…”

Reid swallowed hard, his eyes pained as he stared at Mairin.

“I was being held in England,” she said. “I can explain later, but ye must ken—Logan saved me.”

It was as if the spell Mairin had cast over Reid broke then, for Reid’s gaze shifted to Logan and his eyes turned hard and flat once more.

“Is that true?”

“Aye,” Logan replied. “I hunted down the men holding her and brought her to the Highlands—somewhere safe.”

“And how long ago was that? How long has she been free?”

“Nigh on a year past,” Mairin replied, though Reid still stared hard at Logan. “Helena has helped Logan look after me these past two months.”

For the first time, Reid’s flinty gaze flicked to Helena, who still stood behind Logan. It took all of Logan’s willpower not to shift defensively in front of her, for doing so would only escalate the tension further.

But then Reid’s attention returned to Logan, and a gray fire burned in his eyes. “Ye have had our sister for a year and ye didnae bring her back to the clan?”

“I kenned I wasnae welcome there,” Logan replied evenly.

“Ye could have at least told us that she was alive and well,” Reid shot back, his anger clearly rising.

“Mairin never asked to return,” Logan said through clenched teeth. “And I thought it best that we make our own lives away from the clan.”

“It isnae yer place to make such a decision,” Reid snapped.

Logan felt his iron grip on his temper slipping. The air crackled with tension as he stared at his brother. “Let me guess—it is yer place, is that it, Laird?”

Reid’s nostrils flared and his black eyebrows winged up.

“Why do ye care what Mairin and I do?” Logan went on tightly. “Ye got what ye wanted—ye are Laird now.”

“Why do I care?” Reid hissed. “Because she is my sister too, Logan. And what I want is for our father to still be alive—but ye killed him.”

The time for talking was clearly over. With one hand, Reid swept Mairin out of the way. With the other, he drew his sword once more. Logan planted his feet, bracing for the blow he knew would do more than scar his face—nay, this time, his brother meant to end this.

“Hold!”

A blond man shoved his way through the gathered Mackenzie warriors, trailed by another dark-headed man. Belatedly, Logan realized it was Colin MacKay and Finn Sutherland plowing into the middle of the circle.

“Put away yer sword, Mackenzie,” Colin barked, pushing both Reid and Logan back. “Bloody hell, man, this is Robert the Bruce’s camp, no’ some battlefield to settle a clan feud.”

Finn turned to Logan, one dark brow lifted. “I leave ye alone for five bloody minutes and ye are fighting with yer clansmen.”

“This is no’ some squabble over sheep or coin,” Reid said, loud enough for all those gathered to hear. “Logan Mackenzie murdered our father, Laird Murdoch Mackenzie, eleven years past. He has been in the wind ever since, but he will be made to answer for what he’s done.”

The Mackenzie warriors surrounding Reid erupted into calls for Logan’s head.

“Reid, nay, he didnae—” Mairin cried, but Colin cut her off.

“Silence!” he bellowed. “The lot of ye, get back to yer tents and cool yer blood,” he said to the warriors gathered behind Reid. “Ye,” Colin went on, pointing at Reid, “and ye.” His finger swung to Logan. “Come with me.”

Colin spun on his heels and stomped toward the heart of the camp. Still glowering, Reid fell in behind him.

“I’m going with you,” Helena said, staring up at Logan with wide eyes.

“So am I,” Mairin added.

Finn grunted. “Come on then.” He ushered them all after Colin and then fell in beside Logan.

“What the bloody hell is this about?” Finn hissed, low enough that Mairin and Helena could not hear.

“I can explain,” Logan replied quietly.

“Oh, aye,” Finn said, giving Logan a dark look. “Ye will.”