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Callum was right, but that didn’t change the fact that Evander was going to travel back to where it had all started, with a wife and two children in tow.

He had ended up building a life away from MacArthur Castle, away from his father’s shadow and everything his name had cost him. Now, he was returning there with more to lose.

He thought of Freya’s stubborn chin, of the twins’ small fists curling into his shirt, and wondered if his father would even recognize him now.

Perhaps that was the point. He wasn’t that man’s son anymore. He was something else entirely, and he meant to keep it that way.

Then he thought of Freya bent over the twins and knew that whatever came, he wanted her beside him.

They traveled light and fast, the whole camp folding itself onto the road within hours of Evander’s order. For three days, the road climbed through rain and stony glens, the carts jolting over every rut, and Freya’s back ached from holding the twins steady against her.

By the time MacArthur Castle rose against the horizon, even the twins seemed to sense the shift in the air, quieter than usual in Freya’s arms as the gates came into view.

The wind tugged her dark hair across her flushed cheek, and Evander looked away. Jack waited for them at the entrance, looking like he regretted this moment.

No one regretted it more than Evander.

“Yer men,” Jack said, eyeing the tents already rising beyond the castle walls. “They’ll nae fit inside, ye ken that.”

“They’re settling outside for now,” Evander said. “It’ll do until the village is ready.”

“Aye, well, I’ve had rooms prepared for ye and the Lady in the meantime.”

“Good.”

Freya stepped forward before Jack could turn away. “A room for Brigid as well,” she requested. “She’s to stay near us. She’s helping with the bairns.”

Jack glanced between her and the twins fussing in her arms, something unreadable crossing his face. “Of course, me Lady.” He gave a short bow and left without another word.

Evander watched him go. “Ye’ll find he’s a man of few words. It seems he hasnae changed one bit.”

“So I noticed.” She shifted the baby boy higher on her hip. “Is he always so cold?”

“Only to those he doesnae trust yet.” He said it lightly enough, but he could see in her eyes that she didn’t miss the weight underneath.

She started to ask something, but a maid appeared at her elbow and dipped into a quick curtsy. “If ye’ll follow me, me Lady. I’ll show ye to yer chambers. The servants are arrangin’ a nursery just through the adjoining door.”

Freya nodded and followed, meeting Evander’s gaze one last time.

Evander found himself held up in his brother’s study with Callum and Jack until late, strategizing and drafting peace treaties. But all he could think about was how he had ended up with a wife and two children in such a short time.

Jack left first, with that permanent scowl on his face. It hadn’t left since he delivered the news of Malcolm’s death.

“I ought to punch him,” Callum muttered under his breath, once he was far enough away.

Evander let out a dry chuckle. “That would be a sight to see.”

“Does that mean I have yer blessing, me Laird?”

“What do ye think, Callum?” he asked dangerously. “Do ye really think ye have me permission to punch Jack?”

Callum cleared his throat. “Me Laird⁠—”

“It’s just the two of us, Callum.”

“I cannae stand the way he looks at ye, as if ye were planning for this all along!” Callum snapped. “No one is more surprised about this than ye.”

“Aye, but Jack never cared for me, Callum. Ye forget that,” Evander pointed out. “He was loyal to me braither. The two had a stronger bond than I did with me braither, and it pains me to admit it.”