A stunned silence descended on the chamber, but Mairin’s words rang in Logan’s ears.

He bolted off his pillow, only to stop short with a groan of discomfort. Damn this wound! He needed to put himself between Reid and Mairin, who still cowered in the chamber’s corner, tears of terror filling her wide gray eyes.

But Reid did not make a move toward their sister. He stood rooted, his own steely eyes rounded and his dark-bristled jaw slack.

“What…what are ye saying, Little Bird?” Reid asked at last, his voice low and hoarse.

“I killed our father. I killed him. No’ Logan. Me.”

She was spiraling toward hysterics. Logan had seen her like this once or twice before, in the early days after her release from captivity. He tried to rise again, pressing his fist into the aching wound below his ribs, but Helena stilled him with a hand on his arm. She stared round-eyed at him, giving him a quick shake of her head.

“Your injury,” she murmured.

Damn it all. Helena was bound to the bed as well, for she needed to stay off her feet until the burns were healed. Mairin did not trust Finn or Colin enough for them to help calm her. If only Logan could reach out and take her hand, soothe her somehow. But he only had his words now.

“Mairin,” he started, “I ken ye love me and that ye want to protect me, but ye neednae lie. I was only a lad when I ran before. I couldnae think of how to defend myself, how to prove my innocence. But I am no’ afraid to face Reid and the clan anymore.” He shifted his gaze to Reid. “If ye want me to stand before yer accusations, to tell the truth to the clan, I will. I refuse to run any longer.”

Reid’s dark brows drew down, but before he could respond, Mairin cut in.

“I am no’ lying,” she moaned. “It is my fault Father is dead.”

This was madness. If Mairin hadn’t claimed to have killed their father to protect Logan, then…then could it be true?

“How could a wee lass of five summers kill a grown man?” Finn demanded, plucking the question from Logan’s mind. “Explain yerself, Wee Mackenzie.”

To Logan’s surprise, Finn’s gruff, no-nonsense command actually seemed to calm Mairin a hair’s breadth. She pulled in a shaky breath.

“It is as Logan said,” she began, her gaze locking on Reid. “He spoke to Father about being allowed to lead a band of Mackenzies to join the Bruce’s army. I heard them argue. Father said nay, and Logan grew angry, saying that he was a man grown and that Father didnae trust him enough.”

“And then?” Reid prodded. “Did Logan hurt Father in any way?”

“Nay,” Mairin said, her lips beginning to tremble. “Logan left. But I grew frightened of their yelling. I ran off, crying and carrying on that Logan and Father shouldnae have shouted at each other.”

Unbidden, Logan tensed. No one knew what had happened after Logan had stormed off that evening—except Mairin. Reid stiffened as well, clearly keen for Mairin to continue.

“I ran deeper into the woods away from the castle. Father chased me, urging me to come back, that all would be well between him and Logan. I climbed a tree, thinking he wouldnae be able to come after me. But the storm broke in earnest then. The rain fell in sheets, and then the thunder began rolling closer.”

As she spoke, Mairin’s eyes glazed with memory. She paused, the delicate muscles of her throat working for a moment, but no one dared interrupt her.

“Father grew scared,” she continued. “He thought the lightning would hit the tree I’d climbed. He urged me down, but I wouldnae listen, for I was too frightened and distraught. He must have been truly terrified for me, for he began climbing the tree to drag me down. He shifted a large rock under the tree to help him reach the first branch—I had simply scampered up the trunk, uncaring of the bark’s scratches and snags.”

Mairin shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. “He got halfway up, but the branches were slick with rain. He…he slipped and lost his hold. And then he was falling.”

A sob escaped her throat. It echoed in the dead-still room.

“He…he hit his head on the rock he’d moved under the tree, then lay motionless. I climbed down and tried to wake him but there was s-so much b-blood, and he wouldn’t w-wake up.”

Logan’s heart shattered for Mairin then. Cursing his injury, he tried to rise again. But before he could drag himself from the bed, Reid moved. He stepped slowly toward Mairin, his hand extended as if he were approaching a wounded animal.

“And that was when ye returned to the castle,” Reid finished softly.

“Aye,” Mairin mumbled, lowering her head. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks, but she didn’t move to wipe them away. “At first I couldnae speak because of what had happened to Father—of what I did. But then when ye and Logan began to fight—” She lifted her gaze to Reid once more. “I was so scared—so cowardly. Ye cut Logan’s face and he fled, never to return, and all for something he didnae do. I was so afraid of what would happen to me if I told the truth that I couldnae make myself speak of it.”

Reid actually staggered at her words. “Oh God, Mairin,” he breathed. “Ye cannae believe that I would hurt ye. All the years after our father’s death, when ye were so quiet—ye were afraid of me?”

“No’ ye exactly,” she murmured, “but afraid of the consequences for what I’d done. I killed our father and the Laird of our clan. And I was right to be fearful—all these years, ye havenae forgotten what ye thought Logan did. Ye would see him punished, even now.”

Mairin drew herself up then, lifting her trembling chin. “But I cannae be a coward anymore. Logan is innocent. Any punishment ye meant for him truly belongs to me.”

“Mairin, you aren’t a coward,” Helena said, holding herself upright on the bed. “You are the bravest girl I’ve ever known.”

“I am cursed,” she replied, her eyes filled with anguish. “First my father, and then being held by the English…” A shudder stole over her. “I thought my captivity was punishment for what I’d done, that God saw fit to make me pay at the hands of the English for killing my own father.”

“Our father’s death wasnae yer fault,” Logan said firmly.

“Aye, it was. It was because of my foolishness and refusal to obey him that he died.”

“Ye were just a wee bairn,” Reid countered gently. He stepped forward again until he was a mere arm’s length away from her.

“And I am to blame for yer captivity.” The words burned shamefully in Logan’s throat, but they were true. “If I hadnae joined the Order of the Shadow, they never would have kidnapped ye.”

“If I had protected ye better, no’ allowed ye to go out into the woods alone, ye wouldnae have been taken in the first place,” Reid muttered. He turned to Logan then, stunned realization written on his hard features. “And if I hadnae accused ye of our father’s death, ye wouldn’t have fled and become a mercenary at all.”

Just then, Colin cleared his throat. “It seems the three of ye could wrestle endlessly for responsibility, yet carrying the blame for the past isnae necessary when ye give and receive forgiveness.” He pointedly looked between Reid, Logan, and Mairin.

Reid was the first to move. He fell to one knee before Mairin, gazing up at her with sad eyes. “There is naught to forgive ye for, Little Bird,” he said. “Our father’s death was an accident. Ye neednae bear that burden any longer. And I must beg yer forgiveness for tearing our family apart and making ye too afraid to tell the truth.”

With a sob, Mairin wrapped her arms around Reid’s neck. He rose, holding her in a hug so tight that he lifted her off her feet.

“And do ye forgive Logan, too? Can we be a family once more?” she mumbled against Reid’s shoulder.

Reid turned and met Logan’s stare over Mairin’s head. “Again, there is naught to forgive. I was wrong—so verra wrong, Logan. I can only pray that ye will forgive me for what I’ve done to ye in the quest for justice.”

Wound be damned, Logan rose. He had to steady himself on the side of the bed for a moment, but then he hobbled slowly to his brother and sister. With a grunt, he threw his arms around both of them.

“All is forgiven,” he said through a tight throat. “The past cannae control us any longer. I’ve missed ye, brother.”

When at last the three of them released each other, Logan’s middle throbbed with pain. Gingerly, he took a step back and sank to the edge of the bed with an exhale.

Reid set Mairin down, his eyes sheened with emotion. But then suddenly he stilled. “This means…this means I am no’ the rightful Laird of the Mackenzies.”

His gaze shot to Logan, then he dropped to one knee beside the bed. “Ye are, Logan.”

It felt as though all the air was suddenly squeezed from Logan’s lungs.

“Our father never actually named me as his heir,” Reid went on, his voice dazed. “When ye left, I took on the title, but now that ye are back… The Lairdship rightfully belongs to ye.”

“Is…is that true?” Logan sputtered, turning to Colin and Finn. The two exchanged a stunned look.

“I suppose so,” Colin said at last. “Ye were Murdoch Mackenzie’s legitimate heir, Logan. If he never publicly declared Reid his heir in yer stead…”

“We thought ye dead,” Reid interjected, “or at least a murderer who would never again set foot in the Highlands.” His features settled into hard resignation. “Ye are the true Laird. It is only fitting that ye claim yer title, after all I’ve done to ye.”

This was all too much. Mairin revealing the truth of their father’s death, a reconciliation with his brother that Logan never dreamed would come to pass, and now this—he was the rightful Laird of the Mackenzies?

He turned to Helena. She sat by his side, her lips parted in shock and her eyes round and emotion-filled. He saw joy in their green depths—joy for him, for his family, for his future.

But he also saw sadness there. How could he be Laird of a Highland clan and marry her, the keeper of this Borderland castle? Could he truly tear her away from Craigmoor, the home she’d only just reclaimed?

Logan reached for her hand and interlaced their fingers. Turning back to Reid, he drew in a slow breath.

“I cannae tell ye what that means to me, Reid,” he began. “This morning, I woke a man without a wife, without a brother, without a clan. And now I have a bride, a family, and the offer of the Mackenzie Lairdship.”

He paused, searching his heart. “I will be grateful until my last breath for Helena,” he said, squeezing her hand. “And for regaining ye and Mairin. That is more than enough. I hope ye’ll welcome me as a Mackenzie clansman once more, but I cannae be Laird.”

Reid blinked, rising slowly from his bent knee. “Why no’?”

Logan gave Helena a long look, letting the love in his heart shine in his eyes. “My place is here—or wherever Helena is.”

She squeezed his hand back, tears of happiness welling in her eyes.

“Besides,” he said, turning back to Reid. “Our father had good reason to make ye his heir. Ye always were better at the Lairdship lessons. He made the right decision, and it seems only fair to honor his wishes.”

Reid huffed a laugh, and Logan shot him a wry smile.

Slowly, Logan rose to his feet once more, growing sober. He extended his forearm. “Ye are the true leader of the Mackenzies. I am honored to call ye brother and have ye as my Laird.”

Reid clasped forearms with Logan, then pulled him in for another hug. “Thank ye—brother,” he murmured. “It hasnae been easy without ye. There have been…troubles, and hard times enough for all, but we have managed.”

“I would gladly help ye in any way that I can,” Logan replied, pulling back to search Reid’s features.

Reid’s lips curled at the corners. “Thank ye,” he repeated. “But it is enough to have ye as a brother again—and to gain a new ally in the Borderlands.”

“I’ll always be here for ye if ye ever need to call upon me,” Logan said, his voice tight and low. “I’m no’ running any longer.”

Reid pulled him into another hug so hard that Logan grunted, but he refused to let go. “The same goes for me, little brother,” Reid said. “And ye will never again have cause to run.”