Which was why Tara ended up crouched beneath a co-worker’s desk on Friday and seated across from her boss in his corner office the following Monday morning.

Gordon looked grumpy on the other side of his glass desk. Probably because she’d emailed him a letter of resignation over the weekend. Friday’s unannounced visit from Magnus had been far too close for comfort and she decided she had to get the heck out of dodge, with or without a job.

“Why are you so keen to move to Ireland anyways?” Gordon whined, before Tara could even fully settle into his office guest chair.

It was definitely against International Lupine Law for Tara to tell her human boss that a) she was a shifter and b) the father of her unborn baby happened to be an alpha king masquerading as a much-admired rugby player with absolute monarch privileges in Scotland which c) meant she had to get out of Auld Reekie while she still could. So instead, she gave him a modified version of the truth. “Well, as I said in my resignation letter, I’m ready for a change.”

Gordon harrumphed. “Don’t see why you’re so hell bent on this particular change unless it’s about that rugby player of yours. According to the office gossips, the two of you were secretly dating but then he went off and cheated on you and now you’re so heartbroken you’re willing to endure Stench’s bowfing odor rather than speak to the fellow. Even worse, you’re moving to a city without a professional rugby team! But look here, Glamour—there’s no reason to let your pride take you north. You can lick your wounds right here in our Technology department where you’re needed and much appreciated.”

Tara opened her mouth to defend herself against the overly dramatic—and completely fictitious—version of why she had to leave Scotland. Then she closed it, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thanks, Gordo. I appreciate your advice. But I’ve given this a lot of thought and I don’t think I can live in the same city as that man.”

Which was true enough, just not for the reasons Gordon and her office mates had concluded.

“But the fellow doesn’t even live here!” Gordon pointed out. “He has his own village in the Highlands. Owns the land and merely drives into town for practice, matches, and bird hunting.” He snickered suggestively. “Ye see, Glamour, when I say bird hunting, I don’t mean the kind you find in the trees…well, not unless they’re truly oot their face.”

“Yep, I get it, Gordo,” she said, before he could over-explain the joke any further. “He’s a huge man whore. Copy that.”

“So then you see why you don’t have to move cities at all!” Gordon said, spreading his arms wide as if he’d just proven his point with pure science. “He doesn’t even live here.”

“Edinburgh may not be his primary residence but he’s here more than you think,” Tara returned, carefully crafting the lie as she went along. “And that’s more than enough reason for me to leave.”

“Aye, suppose you’re right,” Gordon agreed, as if her logic made complete sense. “And Dublin doesn’t even have a professional rugby team. You’d never have to see him unless he was in town for Six Nations.”

Tara had no clue what Six Nations was, but she made a sound of agreement just to end the line of conversation. “Anyway, I am sorry about resigning. I just can’t wait any longer for the transfer to go through.”

“And I suppose there’s no chance you’ll forgive him for cheating on you?” Gordon asked hopefully.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Tara replied dryly, while suppressing an eyeroll.

Gordon gave in with a heavy sigh. “Aye, you’re probably right not to forgive him. He may be close to 100 caps but from what I hear, there’s barely a bonnie lass left in the city who he hasn’t had his way with. You’re better off meeting a like-minded person in Ireland and living out a nice, uncomplicated life there.”

Tara made a non-committal sound because even with the move, her life was going to get more complicated from here on out. And she would eventually have to tell Magnus the truth. He had a right to know, after all. She simply wanted to make sure she was a long way away from his kingdom and its antiquated laws when she did so.

Tara really missed Milly. All her other friends were humans, which meant—per International Lupine Law—she could never reveal what she truly was. Usually, that wasn’t a problem. She’d fought hard to live among the humans, and most of the time she resented being a wolf. But right now, she needed to talk to someone about this. Really talk. And she wondered if these confusing feelings surrounding her wolf’s attraction to Magnus would follow her all the way to Ireland.

Gordon cleared his throat, startling Tara out of her thoughts. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then declared, “I refuse to accept your resignation.” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “Hold on, now. I’ll admit I was taking my own sweet time with the transfer request because you’ve been such an asset to us. But I can see you’ve made up your mind. Tomorrow I’ll call over to RSB Dublin and make sure they expedite the approval process. If you’re that set on moving to Catholic Country, I won’t be the cause of your destitution. You’ll have your transfer papers by tomorrow, end of day.”

“Oh, wow! Thank you, Gordo! Thank you so much!”

If he hadn’t been sitting on the other side of a glass desk, Tara would have hugged him. “Off with you, now,” Gordon answered gruffly. “Get out before I change my mind.”

Tara quickly did as she was told, but she thanked him all the way out of the office.

She went to her desk and happily spent the rest of the day closing out and reassigning her biggest projects. Her life was complicated, for sure. But at least a move to Ireland would give her some breathing room so she could plan her next move. And for the first time since she realized she was pregnant, she finally felt as if she was in control of her life.

“Want to come out for a couple?” Daphne, a software engineer, asked near the end of the day.

“Oh, I’d love to, but I can’t. I’ve got that weekly call with my parents,” Tara replied, glad for the excuse. Here was yet another good reason for her to transfer. Her human co-workers would soon become suspicious if she went from being a social butterfly to a complete recluse.

“Oh, that’s right! Forgot it’s Monday,” Daphne said with a smile. Then leaned in towards Tara and whispered, “Just don’t tell my mum. I barely manage once a month and she’s only as far as Glasgow.”

Tara cackled. “Ooh, that’s so bad! I’m definitely going to have to tell your mom.”

“Please don’t! I’ll never hear the end of it. And she’s already after me to start dressing like you.” Daphne rolled her eyes and launched into an exaggerated Glaswegian accent. “Och, why cannae you dress lovely like that black lass in your photos? Ask her for tips is what you need to do, so boys dunnae think you’re only interested in their sisters.”

“Ouch!” Tara gave her a sympathetic wince. “If it makes you feel any better, my parents don’t like how I dress either.”

Daphne scoffed. “You see the way of it there, don’t you? Parents! Can’t be born without ‘em. Can’t punch in ‘em in the nose like a cheeky bastard, right?”

“Right,” Tara said, laughing as she grabbed her pale yellow Strathberry bag off the purse hook she’d attached to her desk when she first started working at RSB.

She would genuinely miss it here. And she’d miss the people even more. Daphne, and the rest of her human friends. It had been a real pleasure to live among them without a care to what other wolves did.

As she rode down in the elevator, Tara wondered if blowing up her life would really solve her problem with the arrogant alpha she’d accidentally done the nasty with when her wolf was in the driver’s seat.

However, her musings came to a screeching halt as soon as she stepped into the parking garage.

Tara froze and cautiously sniffed the air.

It was a wolf. Not Magnus, but one who smelled similarly of ancient pine trees and lake.