EPILOGUE HOLDING FAST

Four moons later …

“DON’T GRIP THE blade so tightly, Lara.”

“Very well … like this?”

“Better … but hold it lower, and closer to your body. Otherwise, I can do this.”

Like a striking adder, Bree’s hand shot out, her fingers folding around Lara’s slender wrist, holding it fast. Aye, she no longer had Shee reflexes, but she was still quick.

Lara made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. “Cods!”

“I made the same error, Your Highness,” Mirren quipped. The maid, who was busy folding clothes in the corner of the wide alcove, wore a solemn expression, although her blue eyes twinkled. “We all think waving a blade in an assailant’s face is the way to scare them off.”

The High Queen flashed her handmaid an irritated look yet didn’t contradict her.

Swallowing a smile, Bree moved Lara’s wrist down so that it was level with her belly and pushed it closer to the High Queen’s torso. She then adjusted her grip on the handle. “The trick,” she added. “Is to keep moving. That way, you’ll be much harder to stab.”

Lara muttered an unqueenly curse, causing Mirren to still in her folding and Bree to raise an eyebrow. “Maybe I should give up these lessons … I feel like a bumbling fool.”

“Everyone does when they start,” Bree reminded her. “But you’ve already learned how to defend yourself with your fists … and do so well. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Lara nodded, although her expression remained strained.

In the moons since Bree had stepped into the role of her warder and advisor, she’d noticed Lara had grown increasingly critical of herself. The woman barely slept. Every eve, she stayed up late studying the scrolls that Gil dug up for her or meeting with her druidic council.

The Shee still held the north, although they’d been silent ever since the battle just after Gateway. Ominously so. Aye, they hadn’t expected an attack during the bitter season—for moving an army through snowstorms would have been foolish indeed—but now that the weather was warming up, the atmosphere in Duncrag grew tense.

Lara knew that Mor was preparing herself for another campaign—as such, she’d spent the winter and most of the spring, so far, rebuilding her armies. New overkings sat on the thrones of Braewall and Baldeen, cousins of those who’d fallen at Cannich. Lara had worked hard to conscript more men and women, to replace the many warriors Albia had lost. They’d also had to train them swiftly to strengthen the defenses at the new border forts of Dulross and Doure.

No word had come from the northern Uplands though—Strath, Rothie, and Morae—so it seemed that those places too had fallen to the Shee.

It had been a difficult time. Lara had yet to prove herself as the High Queen. Word arrived regularly of just how low morale was throughout The Wolds; especially since those in southern Albia learned that the hill-tribes and faery creatures had sided with the Shee.

“I feel as if I’m standing still when I should be running,” Lara admitted then. “The waiting is getting to me.”

“Your people are calling for you to take back The Uplands, Your Highness,” Mirren said then, her brow furrowing. “Will you?”

Lara’s lips thinned, a hard glint appearing in her pine-green eyes. “Aye.” Not for the first time, the look reminded Bree of the High Queen’s father, Talorc mac Brude. She’d inherited little from her sire—save a stubborn streak and a vindictive edge that surfaced occasionally.

The latter concerned Bree a little. Talorc mac Brude’s insatiable hunger for reckoning had been his undoing, and striking off his former master’s head hadn’t brought Cailean the satisfaction he’d craved either. Revenge was a double-edged sword.

Aye, their recent defeat had caused something dark to take root inside of Lara, and if she wasn’t careful, it would consume her.

Bree was considering warning her about this—for although Lara didn’t always welcome her bluntness, it was part of her role—when a female voice carried through the curtain. “Your Highness … the new enforcers have arrived!”

Lara stepped back from Bree and handed her the blunted knife they’d been practicing with. A relieved smile flowered across her face, making her resemble the princess Bree had met a year earlier—a lass full of curiosity and spark. “Come then,” she said, motioning to both Mirren and Bree. “Let’s go out to meet them.”

Wordlessly, Bree and Mirren obeyed, following their queen down the stone stairwell to the bottom level of the broch. Emerging through the iron doors—what a relief it was not to worry about accidentally touching it—they halted on the top step before the yard.

It was a bright and blustery spring afternoon. Fluffy clouds scudded across a blue sky. The Gales of Complaint were doing their best to scatter straw and dust. Pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, Bree’s gaze swept across the yard, to where her husband walked before a line of black-clad figures. As always, Skaal stalked at his side.

Behind Cailean, Torran and the three other ‘senior’ enforcers looked on.

There were twenty new arrivals. Young, tattooed, and arrogant. And to Bree’s surprise, one of the new enforcers was female. Tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair tightly braided down her back, she observed the chief-enforcer with a veiled expression, her strong jaw set.

Bree’s lips curved. Of course, this lot would try to test their leader.

She’d enjoy watching Cailean deal with them.

Her gaze settled on him now, greedily taking in every detail of her chief-enforcer husband. His expression was inscrutable, those woad-blue eyes as dispassionate as they’d been on the day they’d met. Only now, his coldness was a ruse—designed to let these recruits know their place. When his gaze settled on her, it always thawed.

“Twenty!” Mirren gasped at Bree’s side. “I didn’t think the arch-druid would send so many.”

“Let’s hope they’re ready,” Lara answered, her attention never straying from the line. “Some of them look very young.”

Bree’s gaze narrowed as she viewed the recruits once more. Aye, Lara had a point. Two of the male enforcers looked as if they hadn’t yet shaved their chins. All the same, there was bullishness in their stance. The earth magic in their veins brought out aggression. It was what made enforcers so deadly.

Below, Cailean was now addressing some of the recruits, questioning them about their training. The rumble of his voice reached them, although the Gales of Complaint made it difficult to catch the words.

Bree glanced over at Lara once more, noting her proud profile as she watched Cailean. She’d once thought that Lara harbored a secret longing for her father’s chief-enforcer. However, these days, she realized that it was merely a deep respect. She’d partnered with him in the blood-letting a few times, a ritual that forged a closeness between participants.

A ritual that Bree could now share with her husband.

Still watching Lara, she frowned, wondering what the future held for her friend. “Will you marry again?” she asked finally. She was the only one who addressed Lara so informally. The two women had developed a closeness that allowed her to get away with it.

Lara glanced her way, a groove etching between her brows. “I think not.”

The response held an edge to it, and beside Bree, Mirren shifted in surprise. “Isn’t it expected, Your Highness?”

Lara pulled a face. “Perhaps, but since I’m the High Queen, I can change the rules.” She paused then, her gaze shadowing. “I’ve already had a taste of marriage … and didn’t find it to my liking.”

Bree stiffened. Over the past moons, Lara had spoken little of her brief union to King Dunchadh of Braewall. Had he lived, she’d have moved to the southern capital to bear his children. But The Gods had intervened. Nonetheless, from what little she’d gleaned, she’d put a picture together—of a vicious man who’d already buried three wives.

Whenever Bree had tried to discover more about how he’d treated her, Lara clammed up. And her insistence now, that she wouldn’t marry again, made Bree suspect he’d used his fists on her.

“I suppose a queen doesn’t need a mate,” she said after an awkward pause. Lara wore a brittle expression now, and she wished to ease it. “ Mor has never taken one.”

Lara nodded, her jaw firming. “Aye. If I take a husband, I will likely be fat with his child within a few moons. Albia needs a ruler , not a broodmare.”

Below, Cailean finished his inspection of the recruits. He then sent them away, watching as they followed Torran down the wynd that led around the broch and toward the barracks behind it.

Bree caught Lara’s eye. “Can I go down to my husband?” she asked.

“Of course.” The High Queen’s mouth quirked. “You don’t need to ask permission for such things.”

Nodding, she descended the steps.

Hearing her approach, Cailean turned, his mouth curving into an intimate smile that he reserved just for her.

Warmth kindled in her belly in response.

Skaal moved forward to greet her, pushing hard against Bree’s side and nearly knocking her off balance. “Careful,” she greeted the hound fondly as she stroked her neck. “You don’t know your own strength.” She’d missed not being able to touch minds with animals since her return to Duncrag—and she still thought often about Tivesheh—but it was a small price to pay for the contentment she’d found.

“So,” she greeted her husband. “Are they up to scratch?”

He pulled a face. “They’ll do.”

Bree inclined her head, halting before him. “I remember you saying something similar to me … on the eve we met. Do you remember?”

“Aye,” he murmured, grimacing once more. “I was an arse.”

She smirked. “You were … but fortunately, you’ve grown on me.”

He caught her by the arm and drew her close. “What … like a wart?”

She grinned. She felt playful today, with the spring sun on her face and a blue sky overhead. The winter had been long and bitter, although easier to bear as a Marav. Life was good, and she was enjoying teasing her husband. “Aye … but one I’m fond of.”

He snorted. “Fond? Now you make me sound like your grandmother.”

Bree threw back her head and laughed, the noise echoing off stone.

In response, he muttered another curse and tugged her close.

They had an audience—for Lara and Mirren hadn’t yet gone indoors, and members of the Fort Guard milled around them—but she didn’t care.

Cailean’s expression softened then, tenderness igniting in the depths of his eyes. “Gods, I love you, woman,” he said huskily. “So much it terrifies me.”

Her breathing hitched. Such words didn’t slip easily off his tongue, yet her heart fluttered whenever they did. “It scares me too,” she whispered back. “But here we are, facing our fears … and holding fast.”

His gaze grew limpid. “Always.” And with that, his mouth descended upon hers for a searing kiss.

READ A BONUS CHAPTER!

Dive into a tension-filled bonus chapter that takes place eight months after Lara ascends the throne … and find out what happens when Mor sends an emissary to Duncrag.

Sign up for my mailing list and get your freebie here: https://www.jaynecastel.com/fantasy/the-enforcers-bride-duology/get-your-bonus-chapter-for-ashes-of-betrayal

DID YOU ENJOY THIS DUOLOGY?

I can’t begin to tell you how much I loved writing The Enforcer’s Bride . Cailean and Bree’s story ripped my heart out. Initially, I thought this duology would just be a standalone—a foray into Romantic Fantasy (Romantasy), a genre that I love—however, during the writing of it, so many ideas for other stories set in this world have wormed their way into my head.

I can’t let Albia go.

So … get ready for another two-book series, coming on September 25, 2025 (Amazon) .

THE QUEEN AND THE HALF-BLOOD is Book One in The Unforgiven duology. There will be a cover and blurb reveal nearer the time … but I can tell you this one will be Lara’s story!

Our young High Queen is about to be tested. Get ready for an emotional marriage-of-convenience romance set against a backdrop of war … with a tortured, morally-grey hero who will break your heart.

I’ll just leave this here …

Preorder your copy on my website (https://payhip.com/b/NpUmD). You’ll get the book discounted and a week early. Release date: September 18, 2025

Or …

Preorder your copy on Amazon, as usual. Release date: September 25, 2025

https://books2read.com/u/mbr8DR

Not so patiently waiting for September 2025?

Lucky for you, I have a backlist of over 50 books! Most of them are Highlander Historical Romances (set in both Dark Ages and Medieval Scotland) … and you might love those … but among my backlist are a few Historical Fantasy Romances.

If you vibed the mysticism and epic feel of my Romantasy duology, check out THE GUARDIANS OF ALBIA. This trilogy is about three Scottish druidesses!

“Through the ages, the Guardians of Alba have always been here … watching and waiting in the shadows.”

Meet Nessa, Fyfa, and Breanna: three women who help alter the course of Scottish history.

Part of a coven of druidesses sworn to defend Alba from invaders, they will stop at nothing to protect their homeland. They will risk everything to protect Scotland from the English—even their hearts. However, three men complicate their mission.

Guardians of Alba takes you back to 14th-century Scotland amidst the Wars of Scottish Independence. Immerse yourself in political intrigue, Celtic mysticism, betrayal, high adventure, and steamy romance.

★★★★ ★ "From the first sentence to the last, I could not put it down." —Rural Reader, BookSprout

★★★★ ★ "I would actually give this book more than 5 stars. Loved every minute of it. I highly recommend this riveting story of discovering what is truly important in life." —Cherie, Amazon

Dive into the series.

( https://books2read.com/u/b561p6 )