Kaia and the other wives had been wrong, Tara thought to herself as Magnus stormed toward them down the steps. He did own a pair of trousers. A whole suit in fact. And he would have cut a dashing figure if he wasn’t staring them down like they were members of a rival rugby team.

His mother recovered before Tara.

“Magnus, cucciolo, calm down,” she said. “Do not be upset.”

Magnus, head crooked to the side, growled, “Dinnae be upset? Why are you even here, Valentina?”

“I am only here to help Tara,” Valentina began to answer.

“Oh, really?” Magnus interrupted. “By putting ideas into her head? You’re trying to convince her to quit me like you quit Da? Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly be more of a shite mother…”

That’s when Tara found her voice. “Magnus, don’t speak to your mother like that. This isn’t her fault. I invited her…sort of. I mean, I asked Iain to help me get home to Canada and for some reason he sent her. But she only came here to help me.”

Now it was her turn to receive the full ferocity of Magnus’s famous temper. “What kind of help is she providing, then?” he yelled at Tara. “You decide to knock off with my bairn in your belly, and then mother of the year comes along and says, ‘Ach, bonnie idea. Don’t fash yourself about how my son might feel about it. Hell knows I never gave a care to his feelings when I left his da.’”

Valentina covered her heart as if Magnus had just put one of his ancient daggers through it. “How can you say this?” she demanded, her voice so low you’d have to be a wolf to hear it. “I never wanted to leave you or Iain. But you were already grown and you both chose to take your papa’s side in this very complicated matter—”

Magnus turned his back on Tara to growl, “Because you were and apparently still are a faithless witch who doesn’t care who you hurt as long as you get your way and can live your cushy town life!”

Now it was Tara’s turn to gasp. Respect for one’s parents was one of the foundational tenets she’d grown up with, and she didn’t care what his mother had done… “Magnus, I’m not going to let you talk to your mother like that!” she stated in a firm voice while moving to stand in front of the older woman.

“And I’m not going to let you leave Scotland,” he returned viciously, his eyes flaring with barely checked rage. “Ken this, Tara. I am not nearly as understanding as my da. I willnae lose my mate just because she can’t stand the thought of breaking her heels on cobblestone.”

“What?” Tara said, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s not why I’m leaving—”

“Son, you do not own this she-wolf and you do not speak to her like that,” Valentina said, her voice hot with emotion as she pushed past Tara to confront Magnus. “You are just like your papa. Just like him. So, I will tell you as I told him. It is no longer the middle ages. And I do not care about all your stupido, stuuuu-pido woman-hating laws. She-wolves are allowed to make their own decisions. And you are not married yet, so you cannot make her stay.”

Tara couldn’t take much more of this. “Will you two stop arguing and just listen to me?” she said, getting between them. “Valentina, let me talk to him. And please, Magnus, just listen to me. For once in your life listen to someone other than yourself.”

“Ye think I haven’t been listening to you?” he exploded. “All I’ve done is listen to ye whinge for nearly a whole week. About how much you love town life. How hard you fought to live in Edinburgh. Because it’s such a bloody feat to get a job and live and work in a city, just like nearly every other boring human on this planet. I listened to you, and I committed to giving you the lifestyle you wanted. I even wore this piece of shite suit for ye!” he said, thumping his hands against his chest. “All because you lied about truly wanting to be my mate…”

His face twisted into a disgusted snarl. “I would’ve done anything to make you happy. But it was never going to be enough for you, was it? Because you’re selfish, just like her,” he speared his mother with a glance, “aren’t ye? It’s all about you and your pretty clothes and precious humans. You cannae possibly understand wanting to see to other wolves, caring about others more than you care about yourself. This life you want. These name brands—they don’t matter. Nothing matters as much as people and clan and home. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? Because you’re faithless. Only loyal to self and self same. Just like my mother. But I’m done with the wooing of ye, Tara. Pretending to be someone I’m not. You’ve done this to us. You’ve forced me to play my king hand.”

He finished with a look so spiteful that anyone who came across them would assume he hated her. And maybe he did. Was that what he really thought of her? she wondered, her heart clogging her throat.

Tara had no idea what a king hand was but from the tone of his voice, it couldn’t be good. “I never asked you to pretend to be someone you aren’t,” she pointed out, struggling to keep her voice level in the face of his rage and fury. “I wasn’t lying about anything. I like you. Just the way you are. But I have to go home.”

He closed the little space between them, his head dipping along with the volume of his voice. “Nae, ye dinnae,” he replied, guttural and low. “And ye willnae, because—”

“Hey, Magnus, mate! Trouble in paradise?”

They all turned to see a man with a press lanyard hanging around his neck. He had his phone out, and it looked like he was recording the whole thing.

“Are you two breaking up, then? Before the baby’s born, even?” The human man asked, sounding almost gleeful at the prospect. As if broken homes were much happier news than upcoming babies.

But as it turned out, this reporter picked the wrong day to mess with someone he assumed was just another human rugby player.

Magnus moved with supernatural speed up the stairs toward the reporter, letting off a growl that sounded more animal than man.

And the gleeful look fell right off the guy’s face. He turned and tore off running back into the building. But Magnus was right behind him and Tara could only imagine what he’d do to the guy when he caught up.

“Come on!” Valentina said, tugging her arm. “Get in the car. Quick, before he gets back!”

“No, wait, I have to talk to him—”

“No, we cannot wait, Tara,” Magnus’s mom said with a sad shake of her head. “Do you not see it? He is just like his father. Unreasonable. And Scotland is an absolute monarchy. That means if he wishes to, he can end all argument from you with a decree that you cannot leave Scotland. Believe me, Lachlan threatened to do just such a thing to me several times when we were going through our divorce year. Now you must come. You must! The full moon is tomorrow, so it’s now or never.”

Tara hesitated. She didn’t want to leave it like this, but the fight had escalated so quickly and Valentina was right…

Magnus had seemed about one second away from a total declaration when that reporter had interrupted them.

Magnus was too hot to reason with right now. And who knew if he’d feel any more reasonable once she told him the truth about why she needed to go home.

So Tara turned and jumped into Valentina’s sports car. Because unfortunately, in this case, leaving was truly the only way to reason with her hot-tempered Scottish king.