James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser

They call me a warrior, but my truest battle’s been holding onto Claire, the stubborn Sassenach who fell from the stones and into my life. I’ve bled for Scotland, burned for vengeance, and buried too many friends—but there’s a softness in me only she sees. I recite French poetry to sheep, curse in Gaelic when the whisky’s gone sour, and laugh at death’s face, even when it’s breathing down my neck. You’d think a man with my history might’ve learned caution. But I’ll always charge headfirst into the fray… and into her arms.