Some of the brightest minds in the design and home security sectors had come together to build Iain’s state-of-the-art building. With a mind toward impenetrable security, code boxes were attached to all doors in the building, and both human and electronic surveillance covered every square inch of non-residential space beyond Iain’s front door. After leaving the Holyrood apartment she’d shared with Milly to move into Iain’s place, the building manager had given her a thorough tour of the facilities had assured her there was no safer block of flats in all of Edinburgh, and quite possibly all of Scotland.

But to Tara’s horror, shortly after announcing Magnus’s presence, the door made an electronic whirring sound and then opened without so much as a “can I come in?” from the wolf on the other side.

“What. The. Hell?” she asked the “impenetrable” security system and Magnus as he and Alban strolled right on in.

Instead of responding, Magnus immediately took her by the arms and forced her to stay put as he instructed Alban to, “Find the rifle and get it out of this flat.”

“What in the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?” she demanded, struggling against his hold. “And how could you send out a press release telling everyone we were getting married? You had no right to do that! Let me go!”

If Magnus were a human male, she would have easily knocked him out cold for daring to touch her without her consent.

But he wasn’t. So he had no problem holding her in place with both hands circled around her upper arms. He very decidedly did not let her go, and his face maintained its stone-like expression as he waited for Alban to finish searching the flat.

After a few minutes, Alban emerged from her bedroom with the rifle in one hand and his Land Rover keys in the other.

“Take it back to Faoltiarn while I deal with her,” Magnus instructed his beta.

Alban nodded in the no-nonsense way of a soldier and left without another word.

Only when the door closed behind Alban did Magnus finally release her. And like an unleashed dog, the cocky smile she hated so much instantly sprang across his face. “Ho, now, banrigh. You already know swearing at your king is unlawful, as is forgetting to bow when he enters the room. Raising your voice in argument to a sovereign is also against our laws. Besides, that’s no way to greet your mate now is it?”

“You are not my mate!” Tara fired back, her eyes blazing with indignant fury.

“I put that bairn in your belly,” he returned. “And like it or not, that makes me your mate, banrigh.”

“No…no, it most definitely does not!” she spat back. “Wolf matings are not bound by mating laws unless both parties give consent. And I do not give my consent.”

“What a progressive nation your Canada must be,” Magnus replied with an arrogant shake of his head, his dismissive tone making it clear what he thought of progressive nations. “But here in Scotland all matings are binding, especially if there is a child involved. Now Ireland, well, that’s a different matter. But then those crazy fucks have all sorts of unorthodox rules, don’t they? However, here in Scotland, my rule is absolute. So no more games, Tara. You must accept that you belong to me, now.”

“Oh, I must, must I?!?!” she all but growled, her nostrils flaring. “You think my life is yours to just waltz in and take charge of whenever you like? That’s not how these things work, Magnus. I refuse to allow you to ruin my life—”

“You put yourself and our bairn in danger, Tara,” he shot back, his tone becoming low and dangerous. “I am trying very hard to give you the benefit of the doubt, especially because you aren’t from here and clearly have no clue how to conduct yourself among Scottish wolves. But bloody Christ, woman, you’d set a monk to cursing God! And for feck’s sake, I am not trying to ruin your life, banrigh. We’ve a bairn on the way, and your behavior—running off when you should be seen by a midwife, turning a gun on your mate and his kin…”

“You are not my mate!” she insisted between clenched teeth.

“…refusing to accept that you are in a different country with a different culture and different rules,” he shot back.

Oh, God…oh, God. Without warning, the feeling of being trapped crashed over her with the suddenness of a fierce thunderstorm on a sunny day.

“Then I will go to Ireland!” she said. “It sounds a lot more civilized than here.” This comment was as much for her as it was for him. She was reminding herself that she still had options, and that this situation wasn’t about to become a repeat of what happened back in Canada…

Magnus stilled. “You think I would let you out of the country or even out of my sight while you carry my bairn?” he asked.

And that’s when Tara knew she was in trouble because instead of answering Magnus, she was overcome with the memory of what had happened in Canada all those years ago…

Barbara sneaking over to her parents’ furniture store as soon as they left and announcing in a sing-song voice, “Guess what came in the maaaa-aaaaail…?”

Tara opening the envelope from Toronto University, a place that—unlike the University of Toronto—did not have a secret program for shifters. She had jumped up and down and hugged Barbara after reading the letter that informed her she’d been accepted. And moreover, she’d been awarded a special scholarship for those in her particular circumstance. It was everything she’d dreamt of and it would be her future so long as she submitted all the necessary paperwork to prove her Canadian citizenship.

She had closed up shop early, wishing she could tell her older sister the news. But she no longer had easy access to her sister. Leora now lived on the other side of the country on Prince Edward Island, which might as well mean she lived on the moon so far as communication with her was concerned.

Still, Tara had been excited on the bike ride home, busting at the seams to share her news with her parents and younger sister. She hoped they would be proud of her even if the rest of the pack was not. Leora’s sudden leaving had been hard on her parents, but Tara felt sure both her mother and father would understand why she had decided to leave the pack, too.

However, Tara’s heart stopped when she reached the hand-carved sign for their pack town of St. Ailbe. A town car was parked beside it, dark and ominous. And there was a man in its driver’s seat with his cell phone raised outside the lowered window, probably trying to get a signal…

A surge of fear rose into her throat. Leora’s mate had arrived by town car, too.

But maybe whoever had arrived in this town car was here for another she-wolf. Not her.

Please not her, she prayed.

However, her prayers withered like winter wheat when she entered her family’s humble house to find two male wolves waiting for her instead of her parents and twelve-year-old sister.

One of the wolves was well known to her. It was their pack alpha, Abel Flosswulf. He stood and regarded her with kind eyes. She remembered him wearing the same expression on the afternoon when he came to her home to tell her family that a wolf from Prince Edward Island would soon arrive and Leora would be wolf-mated to him that full moon night. He explained that they must leave as things went easier for the young couple when only Abel Flosswulf and the chosen male was there when the chosen she-wolf arrived home. “We do not want to cause her any more discomfort than absolutely necessary,” Abel had said.

That conversation had taken place two years ago before Leora had returned home. At the time, it had been her older sister’s job to mind the furniture store. But that job now belonged to Tara. And there stood Abel Flosswulf, just as he must have when Leora came through the door.

The other wolf stood as well…

He was dressed in the same manner as Abel, but his clothes were black and white instead of black and blue. He smelled different. Like the sea and red earth.

His scent unsettled her because the wolf who mated Leora had smelled the same. This male also had the same kind face. Handsome and open like Leora’s mate, Joshua.

Then Abel Flosswulf spoke. “Tara, I want to introduce you to Joshua’s younger brother, Jacob. Joshua is well-pleased with your sister. His brother has come here in the hopes of gaining a mate with as many positive attributes as Leora.”

“It pleases me to hear this news of my sister,” Tara said to Jacob in a careful tone. “I have had no communication from Leora since her departure. Can you tell me how it goes with her?”

“She is a good wife and mother,” Jacob answered with a kind smile, as if that was everything Tara could possibly want to know about the sister she hadn’t seen nor heard from in over two years.

Tara smiled back even as she silently screamed on the inside. She was so focused on keeping control of her emotions that she barely heard when Abel Flosswulf said, “As you know, Tara, most girls your age have already been wolf-mated…”

She had applied to college to escape her pack’s compulsory wolf mating program. And she’d been accepted. But now it looked like her reprieve had come too late.

But Magnus was right. She was no longer in Canada.

“No,” she told him, raising her chin high with defiance to tell Magnus what she dared not say to Abel Flosswulf and Jacob. “No, I do not want to be your mate.”

He flinched, and Tara watched his expression become stone-like. “You have no choice, mo banrigh.”

“You have no choice in the matter, dear child,” Abel Flosswulf had said when Tara showed reluctance at entering the mating cage. “Jacob is a fine male, and he has come a long way and at great expense. It has already been decided.”

Decided without her…

“There is always a choice,” she told Magnus as she should have told Abel Flosswulf. “Show me where in the rule book it says I have to move to your backwards village in nowheresville.”

His head jerked into an angry tilt as his face screwed up in outrage. “Faoltiarn…my kingdom village—is not backwards—”

She cut him off. “Do you have electricity? Wi-Fi? More than a mile of land without livestock on it? A store that sells high heels? Cafés?”

“Iain’s home has electricity and Wi-Fi!” Magnus retorted as if he’d just delivered a truly devastating rebuttal. “And he doesn’t own so much as a chicken. The whole village had a right stir about it when he gutted the old blacksmith’s house and sold off all the fowl in the coop behind it. He’s also got one of those high-end coffee makers, just like the ones at Caffe Nero. I reckon he might even have a pair of high heels lying about in there somewhere. He’s lived in Edinburgh for a while now and you never really know what those city wolves can get up to...”

“Magnus, is there or is there not a rule about where I must live?” Tara demanded, between gritted teeth.

A sullen beat. Then Magnus crossed his arms and admitted, “Nae, not exactly.”

“Then get out,” she all but hissed, pointing toward the door.

Magnus didn’t move. “Wolf fathers have rights, though,” he informed her. “Many more than most human ones do during their child’s gestation period. As you are aware, we male wolves are biologically programmed to protect our young. In my kingdom, unless a mother brings me a case of physical abuse, she is not permitted to tell the father of her unborn pup that he can’t be near her—as you seem keen to do with me. And nae, I cannae compel you back to my village. You are right about that—even though the best place for a she-wolf in your condition would be among your own kind. But there is a law in place about she-wolves attempting to leave the country when pregnant…”

“Okay, are you not the least bit concerned or at least slightly curious why pregnant she-wolves were so eager to skip town that your pack had to go and make a law about it?” Tara demanded, frustrated as hell with this country’s wolves and their sire.

“We’re a verrae auld country, banrigh. Our pack hails back to the Vikings. We have laws for almost every situation and outcome you can name—and a few are literally set in stone,” he answered, folding his arms over his broad chest. “And how you feel about our laws doesn’t really matter, does it? It willnae change the fact that you cannae leave the country unless you’re returning home—specifically to your pack.”

Tara blinked. Home to her pack…

No. She couldn’t go back there. Ever. She’d vowed to never return after what happened with Jacob.

“If you won’t come with me, it is within my rights to stay here with you,” Magnus continued. “And I guess that means I’ll be moving into Iain’s flat.”

Tara’s fists balled. She badly wanted to hit him again. She felt as if she had escaped one cage only to wind up in another…

“No, no, I do not want this! I want to return to my family’s house!” Tara screamed when they attempted to put her in the mating cage in Abel Flosswulf’s basement. Granted, the designated cage was much larger and more comfortable than the humble cages her family used to shift into on full moon nights. These had floor-to-ceiling bars and a padded floor. But she completely freaked out the moment the pack alpha opened the door and directed her to go in with Jacob.

“You cannot make me do this!”

But as it turned out, they could. As if by mutual agreement, both Jacob and Abel blocked her from running, each catching her by the arm.

“It’s okay, Tara. My wolf likes you. We will be a good pairing. I promise you…” Jacob said, his voice soothing even as he forcibly pulled her into the cage.

“No, no…I don’t want this. Please!” Her screams had turned into sobs as the pack alpha pushed the door closed on the cage. He locked it with a climatic metallic thunk that Tara would never—no matter how far away she was or how much time passed—be able to unhear.

“What are your grounds for severing a mateship?” she asked Magnus, cutting off whatever he’d planned to say next.

Magnus responded with a dangerous look. “You cannot sever our mateship.”

“Yes, I can. Your mother did and she’s a foreigner.”

Magnus went very, very still, his eyes flaring in a way that let her know she’d hit a nerve.

Tara might have felt bad under any other circumstance but this was her life, her future, and she forced herself to be relentless as she continued, “Tell me how your mom got of this. Did she serve your father with papers? Cut off a hand?”

Magnus clenched his jaw, his stone-colored eyes nearly glowing with fury. Nonetheless, he answered, “If a she-wolf goes a year without having sex with her mate, or if he lies with another, then she has grounds for divorce and it is as binding as if she served her male with divorce papers.”

“Awesome. I hate you so not sleeping with you will be easy,” Tara replied with absolute certainty. “All I have to do is sit back and wait for you to cheat on me. Shouldn’t take long. According to my boss, you’re a player in more ways than one.”

Magnus snorted. “Whatever your boss or those mangy gossip sites would have people believe, I’m telling you now, banrigh, I would never be with another once I have committed myself to someone. I am an honorable wolf and we wolves, my parents withstanding, mate for life.”

She could see from the resolute set of his jaw that he meant every word. Which was stupid. Couldn’t he see what a train wreck they’d be together?

“Fine,” she answered with an annoyed shake of her head. “I hope you are looking forward to your year without sex.”

Magnus’s eyes slit. “Aye, right. And I hope you love being the incubator you said you didn’t want to become. I would have been fine bedding you, Tara, but if you’d rather be my breeding cow, by all means…”

This time she didn’t just think about hitting him, she actually lunged at him, wolf first, intending to inflict the kind of bodily damage that comes with comparing a woman to a cow.

But unlike last time, Magnus saw this punch coming. Instead of taking the hit, he caught both her wrists in one hand before turning her around, so she was trapped against his body. Trapped… Trapped…

Tara’s mind blanked, her breathing becoming shallow as the metallic thunk from long ago echoed in her head. “Let me go!” she screamed.

“Tara, you are not a child, so you need not hit me every time something you don’t like comes out of my mouth,” he answered, his voice both hot and cold next to her ear.

In fact, it wasn’t the most unreasonable request she’d ever received—or the first time she’d ever been told to rethink her hit first, talk it out later policy.

But she had never been trapped before. Not like this. Not since…

“Let me go!” she wheezed, feeling herself begin to hyperventilate. “Let me go! Please!”

Magnus immediately released her, giving Tara the freedom she’d demanded. She whipped around, twisting her body into a fighting stance. Prepared to punch, scratch, and scream—anything to keep him from trapping her again.

Magnus stood there, eyeing her quizzically as if she’d lost her mind. “You’re the mother of my bairn. I will not fight you, banrigh. And I am not a monster. There’s nae danger of me grabbing you again so long as you keep your fists to yourself,” he said in a tone that implied she should have known that.

Tara lowered her arms feeling completely embarrassed. For her defensive stance…and her outsized reaction to him trying to stop her from punching him. Again.

“I…” she began, only to trail off with no idea how to respond. Or what to say next…

But as it turned out, she didn’t have to say a thing. Without warning, a new scent suddenly filled the air between them, freezing them both in place. They looked at one another wide-eyed.

Tara had lived exclusively among humans for a very long time. But this particular smell wasn’t the sort of thing you forgot. It was distinct and pungent. A slap in the face disguised as a smell.

Heat.

Someone was in heat. But…how could that be?

Tara stood there, confused. She was already pregnant, and wouldn’t Iain have told her if there was another wolf living in his building?

But then Magnus growled in a way that made him sound more animal than man. And instead of cowering in fear, her whole body warmed. No, warmed was the wrong word for it.

Her body heated. Despite being furious with him, despite being pregnant, right then and there her whole body heated with the single thought of him.

Mate, her wolf growled inside her as the space between her legs began to tingle.

But it wasn’t meant as a noun. This was most definitely a verb. And a command at that.

Mate, mate, mate, her wolf chanted. Right now.