For a game Tara never even heard of before moving to Scotland, rugby sure had a lot of dedicated fans. A whole stadium worth, in fact. In the front row where Tara sat, it felt like a “who can be the loudest” contest between the blasting Ed Sheeran song and the crowd yelling at the two groups of burly men down on the field who kept getting into vicious fights over the oblong ball.

Tara had absolutely no idea what was going on. But she could feel the palpable energy coming off the crowd around her and her new human friend, Kaia. Kaia was another WAG—which was the commonly used term for the wives and girlfriends of players. She was the wife of Nikau, a hooker... meaning he wore a jersey with the number nine on it—apparently the position had nothing to do with prostitution. Kaia also had a warm New Zealand accent, lustrous dark curly hair, and smoky brown skin. Ana had handed Tara off to Kaia minutes before the match began and given Tara strict instructions to follow the much more seasoned WAG’s lead… which turned out to be easier said than done. Kaia watched the game intently, frequently coming to her feet to shout during the first half. Tara was never quite sure if Kaia’s shouts were good news or bad until the score posted on the leader board.

Rugby wasn’t easy to understand, especially compared to basketball, hockey, or—Tara’s all-time favorite—baseball, the three biggest sports in Canada. Twenty minutes into the first half, Tara cursed at how much time she had spent shopping with Ana.

She desperately wanted to pull out her phone and do some research into the rules of rugby in order to find out why the bulky players kept lifting each other into the air, getting tangled into what looked like massive huddles, and why a few of the men wore black spandex-looking helmets while others, like Kaia’s husband and Magnus, did not.

But Kaia had already swatted Tara’s hand once when she attempted to pull her phone from the new Fendi handbag Ana pushed onto her arm when they reached the stadium.

“It makes you look a right bitch, don’t it?” Kaia explained without taking her eyes off the gameplay. “Pull out your mobile during the match and you’ll end up in The Scotsman’s gossip section with loads of comments about how you’re a gold digger who don’t care nothing about the game. And if they lose, there’s bound to be lots of opinions about how it’s all your fault for distracting him and making him go on holiday with you at the start of the season…”

“But…I didn’t ask him to—” Tara began.

Kaia cut her off. “Don’t matter. This is your big debut, so they’re looking for reasons to go extra hard on you.” Then she jumped to her feet to yell again.

Wow.

But Tara hadn’t argued.

Instead, she clung to the strap of her gorgeous Fendi handbag, dutifully pretending she had a clue what was going on and mentally filed away her questions until halftime, when Kaia kindly explained everything that had happened so far in the game. No, the black caps a few of the players wore had nothing to do with the 100^th cap Magnus hoped to achieve this year. In fact, this match was simply a “friendly” against Munster and didn’t count for anything.

The gameplay hadn’t seemed remotely friendly to Tara, but according to Kaia, the Rovers were going easy on their Irish opponents since they wanted to save themselves for the big games which counted toward cups, caps, and trophies.

“What? Did you think you should be cheering for the other team because they’re from your mum’s country?” Kaia asked a confused-looking Tara with a grin.

“My mom’s country?” Tara repeated, even more confused.

“Magnus told Nikau you spoke German and that’s where your mum is from. But this Munster is in Ireland—not Germany. Plus, Germany’s national team is pretty shite anyways…”

Kaia then launched into a lengthy, hard-to-follow speculation about the very remote chances of Germany qualifying to compete in the next world cup. Tara briefly considered correcting her new friend about her mother’s country of origin, but she hadn’t even discussed that aspect of her background with Magnus. Or Milly, for that matter. And it didn’t seem right to mention her complicated past to a human woman she’d only just met.

“Yeah…nah, I can tell I’m losing you,” Kaia said with a laugh. “Wanna talk about where you got that choice jumper?”

Tara laughed and eagerly accepted the change of subject.

When Tara was done describing the whirlwind shopping trip with Ana, Kaia shook her head. “Maybe I should let her have a go at me,” she said, looking down at her simple black sweater and leggings. “But I’m not sure how much she could do for me. I’ve always been a tomboy—even played women’s rugby myself in New Zealand. Used to be the sporty, crate-of-lager type—barely knew the difference between prosecco and champagne before I became an official WAG and moved here so Nikau could play for the Rovers. But I bet you’ve always been one of those glamour girls, right? All put together straight out of the womb?”

Tara winced. Kaia was so, so wrong. But she did concede that, “They call me ‘Glamour’ at work actually…”

“Choice! Can I start calling you that, too?”

“Sure,” Tara agreed with an affable shrug. “But I’m really not that girly. I’ve got a temper and I’ve been known to get into bar fights.”

“My kind of woman!” Kaia cheered. “No wonder Magnus picked you over all the others.”

“Mmm,” Tara answered with a non-committal sound. Because it wasn’t like she could tell this human woman that no, actually, Magnus needed a baby incubator in order to keep his title as alpha king of the Scottish wolves. She’d said hell no, of course…but then their wolves mated during the last full moon shift—and that was why he chose her. If you could really even call it a choice…

“So tell me. Is it true Magnus isn’t retiring at the end of this season now?” Kaia asked.

Tara blinked, wondering at the sudden change of topic.

“Emma—she’s the Brit girlfriend of one of the Rovers—said her boyfriend overheard Magnus talking with Dave—his wife’s a realtor—about finding a flat in the city because you preferred it here,” Kaia explained. “And Magnus wouldn’t buy a flat here if he was still planning to retire after the season is done, right? How’d you manage that, anyways? The team has been trying to get him to move closer for years now, but he always claimed he couldn’t live anywhere else but out in the wops with that kilted-up clan of his. You know, me and a few of the other wives were talking about it the other day. We suspect Magnus doesn’t even own a pair of trousers. Maybe not even a pair of jeans. Though that’s likely to change now that you’ve come along and he’s not sinking every penny he makes into that village of his…”

Tara stilled. She was deeply unsettled at the thought of Magnus using money previously intended for his kingdom treasury to buy her this outfit.

Luckily, game play started up again before Kaia could ask more uncomfortable questions…or tell her about how many other sacrifices Magnus was making to ensure Tara stayed by his side.

Unfortunately for the Rovers, the Munster team came out of half time much more revved up. And due to a few costly mistakes and penalties, they maintained a three-point lead over the Rovers for most of the second half.

But then with only a few minutes left in the game, Magnus caught a kicked ball from the other team. And with more agility than she would have expected from a man of his age and heft, he tore off toward the opposite goal line. This time Tara didn’t need to follow Kaia’s lead. She jumped to her feet and shouted for Magnus to “Go! Go! GOOOOOOO!” right along with Kaia. Then she screamed and hollered when he slid across the goal line.

They won the game! They won the game! But Tara stopped jumping up and down when she noticed instead of jogging over to the media stand like a few of the other players or back towards the clubhouse, Magnus cut across the field to where she and Kaia were seated in the stands.

“What’s he doing?” Tara asked Kaia as Magnus neared them.

“Looks to me like he’s coming over to chat you up,” the New Zealander answered with a knowing grin.

The fans surrounding them started yelling about how Magnus Scotswolf was coming this way!

“You didnae text me back…” a voice said in her head. It was Magnus, pushing words into her mind before he’d even reached the stands.

Tara thought about answering him out loud. But she doubted he could hear her with all the background noise, even with his superior wolf senses.

“Sorry,” she said, tentatively pushing words into his head for the very first time. “I was busy. Some guy sent me on an over-the-top shopping trip.”

“You liked it then?”

“Yes, of course, I liked it! Who wouldn’t? Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So…?” he came to a stop in front of where she and Kaia were seated.

“So...” she repeated. Not understanding what he wanted from her.

“Did you miss me, too?”

It was an unexpectedly painful question. And Tara found herself thinking, I miss you already.

But here, with thousands of people looking on, was definitely not the time or place to have a conversation about why she needed to leave him after the best week of her life and go home to her pack. Instead, she answered as best she could.

With a kiss…

Bending down, Tara pressed her mouth to his, tongue swirling just like he’d taught her except, “I didn’t ask the king’s permission before touching him,” she pushed into his head. “Sorry about that, Your Majesty.”

“You’re forgiven, mo leannan,” he replied, deepening their kiss. “Completely forgiven.”

“Well, that kiss’ll end up in tomorrow’s papers,” Kaia chortled as they waited with the other WAGs in the Rovers’ clubhouse. The clubhouse was a state-of-the-art facility located next to the stadium. On the outside, it looked nearly as modern and sleek as Iain’s apartment building, but with only two floors instead of seven. According to Kaia, the facility had showers and a gym on the ground floor with offices taking up most of the second. But at the moment, the two women stood in a large room with rows of flat screens lining each wall, chairs, tables, and even a full-service bar.

Kaia steered her right to the large group of WAGs who’d situated themselves next to the bar. After Kaia made introductions, an elegant blonde handed her and Tara a glass of white wine and assured her they’d be switching to champagne as soon as “the fellows” came out.

The WAGs, Tara noted after handing the wine off to her non-pregnant new human friend, seemed to be of two distinct camps: over-the-top designer casual like her—thanks to Ana—or leggings, a sweater, and a good peacoat, like Kaia, who was happily double fisting both her and Tara’s wine. But Tara soon discovered that fashion aside, the other WAGs all agreed on one thing—she’d pulled off a bloody miracle in getting Magnus Scotswolf to settle down.

“Never seen him make concessions for any woman, that’s for sure,” commented a petite blonde named Emma.

“If you don’t watch out, he’ll make you tour with him on the road, because he won’t be able to live without you—at least until the baby arrives!” a brunette WAG in gray leggings said.

“I mean, he’s even coming to this post-game do which he’s never done...” one of the Scottish WAGs pointed out. “Always says groupies are too much work and he’d rather go to a local pub to get sorted. So spill…what did you do? Enchant him?”

“Um…” Tara said, not quite knowing how to answer.

“And also, please tell us where you got that fabulous jumper!” Emma said. “Is it true Magnus convinced Chloe Rose to let you borrow her stylist? Her Ana won’t even return my calls!”

“Yes, um…I guess so,” Tara answered, trying hard to keep up. “It was really nice of her to take me shopping. Maybe she owed Magnus a favor?”

“Or maybe she doesn’t really believe he’s settling down at all and she’s looking to get under him next. You better watch her. Keep your enemies close and all that,” another WAG said.

But before Tara could further analyze that somewhat disturbing comment, Kaia jumped in and said, “I’m trying to convince Tara to put in a good word for me with Ana.” She took Tara by the arm like they were long-time besties. “Maybe we could all take a hen’s trip to Bond Street before your wedding since you can’t really have a normal party being pregnant and all.”

Tara’s eyes widened at the thought of a hen party combined with another luxury shopping trip. It definitely sounded like a dream come true—pregnant or not.

But then all thoughts of shopping ceased when a commotion broke out at the front entrance to the bar-slash-waiting room. Tara and Kaia had sailed right through just thirty minutes ago, but now a striking older woman with long silky black hair nearly down to her butt was having an intense discussion with a ginger-bearded security guard.

From the way the woman was wildly gesticulating, it was obvious she wanted in. But the guard, who looked like he should be in an advertisement for heavy duty Scottish paper towels, folded his arms across his beefy chest and shook his head.

“Groupie nutter, probably,” Kaia said.

“Little older than the ones who usually try to slip in here, though,” Emma noted.

“She looks good for her age,” quipped the elegant blonde who’d handed Tara the glass of wine. “Maybe we should tell the guard to let her in, so we can get the name of her surgeon.”

Most of the WAGs fell out laughing at that. But not Tara…because unlike the other women, she could actually hear what was being said.

“I demand you let me in! My future daughter-in-law is inside, and she’ll want to see me. Her name is Tara Hamilton!”

What the…? Tara squinted hard trying to figure out why this woman looked so familiar. Then it hit her. Iain. She looked exactly like Magnus’s brother. Which meant…

“Wait, where are you going?” Kaia asked when Tara suddenly started toward the room’s double-door entrance. “Do you know that woman?”

As she approached, Tara heard the brawny security guard say, “Yeah, tell me something you couldn’t have read about in the news this weekend. Plus, everyone knows Magnus and his ma don’t talk. So even if you are who you say you are, I greatly doubt he’ll want to speak with you.”

“This isn’t a problem since I am not here to speak with my son,” the beautiful woman replied. “I’m here for Tara. At her request, I might add—”

The woman broke off when she saw Tara approaching.

Seemingly tired of keeping up the pretense that the guard could hold her back, the older she-wolf easily pushed him aside and pulled Tara into her arms as if they were long lost friends. “Oh, there you are, cara! I am Magnus’s mama. It is so very lovely to finally make your acquaintance. But are you all right? I came as fast as I could.”

“I’m fine,” Tara replied, her voice weak with confusion. Magnus’s mother wasn’t anything like she’d expected. She was a tall, willowy brunette with fiery brown eyes and one hell of a bear hug. She towered over Tara but wasn’t the least bit intimidating. In fact, she struck her as warm and inviting.

“Um…hello,” Tara continued. “It is so nice to meet you, too. But…what do you mean you are here at my request?”

“Si, come with me,” she said. “Quickly! Quickly!”

And before Tara knew what was happening, the older woman had pulled her out of the waiting room, past the stunned guard, and out the front of the clubhouse’s large entrance.

A blood-red Ferrari was parked sideways just outside. Tara could only assume it belonged to Magnus’s mother. But… “How did you get your car all the way up to the clubhouse?”

“I might have told the guards I was a very special friend of the head coach. And they might have believed me,” the older woman answered with a saucy wink. “But come, come…we do not have much time…”

“Much time? For what?” Tara asked, so confused she could barely keep up mentally or physically.

“Oh, sorry. Lachlan always said I talk too fast for others to catch up. Iain sent me...” the fashionable beauty threw that bit over her shoulder like an afterthought, before bringing them to a stop beside the zippy red car. “He asked me to fly over and convince you not to leave Magnus.”

Tara’s eyes widened in shock. “He did…what?!”

“Oh, but do not worry, cara. I am here to do the opposite of that. I have his private plane and so I will fly you home. This is why I have come…” Magnus’s mother spread her arms like a goddess come down from the mount, “...to help you leave my son!”

“Wait…WHAT?!”

This time, the voice didn’t belong to Tara…

She and the other woman looked up to find Magnus, now dressed in a well-cut three-piece suit, standing in front of the clubhouse’s glass doors. Too far for a human to hear what Valentina had said. But as Tara had been reminded far too many times already, Magnus was a wolf…