The Dream Of Love By Meara Platt -

"I have seen this place before," he confessed one evening as the sun dipped behind the peaks, painting the sky in bruises of purple and gold. "In my mind, I have walked these paths with a woman whose face I could never quite see. Until I saw you."

Elspeth smiled, leaning her forehead against his. "It is no longer a dream, Alistair. It is our life." The Dream of Love by Meara Platt

Under the vast Highland sky, the Dream of Love was no longer a shadow in the night, but a bright, enduring flame that would burn for generations to come. "I have seen this place before," he confessed

On the eve of their wedding, the castle was betrayed. The clash of steel and the scent of smoke filled the air as the gates were thrown open from the within. Elspeth didn't cower. She grabbed a dirk and found Alistair in the courtyard, fighting with the grace of a man who had everything to lose. "It is no longer a dream, Alistair

The reality was far harsher. Her father, the Laird, had summoned her to the Great Hall to meet the man who would save their lands: Sir Alistair Munro.

The heavy mist of the Scottish Highlands clung to the stone walls of Dunslane Castle, but inside, the air crackled with a different kind of tension. Lady Elspeth MacLean stood by the narrow window of her chambers, her fingers tracing the worn velvet of her sleeve. She was not a woman given to flights of fancy, yet for months, her sleep had been haunted by a recurring vision.

"I thought love was a phantom," Alistair whispered, pulling her close. "Something to be chased but never caught."