Danso led them at a fast clip along a dirt road toward the modest collection of clapboard houses. This was definitely a farm but there were no tractors that Magnus could see. There were no cars either though the road they walked along seemed purposefully wide. However, a few of the houses had bikes leaned up against them and—Magnus squinted, wondering if the jet lag was making him see things. But, aye, those were wooden carriages parked alongside a few of the houses. They were enclosed and painted black with red triangle decals on the backs. They also had large spoked steel wheels along with an attachment system for horses. Of which there were plenty, he soon discovered, as Danso led them past a large communal barn with rows of stables inside.

What was this place? he wondered. Most farms did not have this many residential buildings on the property. A farming village, then? Like his own, perhaps, except without any cars or castles and the houses were made of wood, not stone…

“This is our house,” Danso announced, coming to a stop in front of a humble two-story dwelling that, except for a little weather damage, was identical to every other house lining the dirt road.

His confusion aside, it all struck Magnus as rather idyllic. No shops or a pub that he could see. But the fields, which still smelled faintly of wheat, corn, barley, and potatoes, gave the unusual village a wholesome quality. He spotted some sheep in the far-off meadows, contentedly chewing in the still green pastures.

However, the idyllic quiet shattered when from inside the house they were approaching, a voice suddenly shouted something in the same language Tara had used on the mobile with her parents.

Magnus heard Tara respond in the same language. And though he didn’t understand what she said, her voice sounded strained and distressed. He could also feel her tension across their mate bond.

Without conscious thought, Magnus broke into a run, the need to see his mate and protect her from whoever was shouting at her spurred his feet that much faster.

However, soon after he crashed through the door, he came to an abrupt stop, trying to understand the scene in front of him…

The room he’d charged into took up nearly the entirety of the house’s downstairs. He’d call the layout open plan, but no, this was something else entirely. Only a few exposed support beams broke up the space, holding up what looked like a load bearing ceiling bar. And next to one of those beams was an old-fashioned wood burning cook stove, turned on—not for the purpose of cooking—but because it appeared to be the room’s only heat source. Other than that, Magnus could only see a humble dining table and three rocking chairs. None of which were currently occupied though the room was packed.

What he suspected to be the entire village, down to the children, were gathered inside the receiving room space. This pack, he noticed right away, was almost entirely white. Also, there were more females than men—nearly twice as many as far as Magnus could see. The women were all dressed alike in long blue dresses, plain and unadorned in any way. They also wore old-fashioned black bonnets with ties hanging down. As for the men, other than their skin color and hair texture, they looked the same as Danso in their black braces and trousers with blue snap-button shirts. And though none of them were currently wearing the same wide brimmed hat as Tara’s father, nearly all of them sported similar beards. Ear-to-ear with no mustaches.

Magnus stared at the crowd, and they stared back at him. Including Tara. Magnus found her at the front of the crowd. The gathered people had obviously been listening to her before Magnus burst in. And to his surprise, she was dressed exactly as they were. In a plain dress and black bonnet without adornment or jewelry. She’d even removed the small diamond studs she had worn to bed every night of their bedroom holiday. She also wore no makeup meaning her freckles were now on full display. Unlike her long, smooth dark brown hair that was pulled back and hidden under the bonnet. Magnus blinked, trying to reconcile the woman in front of him with the one he’d met and mated in Scotland, the one whose officemate’s had nicknamed “Glamour.”

Tara seemed equally stunned to see him there, the look upon her face the same as if he and his family had walked in on her naked in her bathroom.

“Oh, ah, erm…” his father said behind him.

“We are very sorry for interrupting,” his normally unapologetic mother said on the other side of him.

Then Danso stepped forward and removed his hat to say, “This is Tara’s male, Magnus Scotswolf, and his father. You may have already met her mother. They do not speak our language, so I ask that you kindly continue this meeting in English.”

Tara continued to stare at Magnus like she was having as difficult a time reconciling his appearance as he was hers. And Magnus noticed very few of the eyes in the room came off of him, even after Danso made his request to continue the meeting.

However, one of the older men seemed to have no problem recovering from the interruption. “I for one do not understand why we still argue this matter!” He spoke perfect English, but his voice had the same accent as the one Magnus had heard shouting in German earlier. He turned to Tara to say, “You were never baptized and that makes you an outsider to us, no matter how you appear now. You mated an outsider after rejecting your chosen wolf mate. And now you have returned to our village after nearly ten years to propose your crazy plan? Why should we listen to it? Why should we even consider it?”

Tara rubbed the bridge of her nose, and Magnus suspected it wasn’t the first time this question had been put to her.

Her voice sounded strained when she answered, “Why listen to my plan, Peter? Because we have too many girls in need of mates, and my mate has a village full of males too anachronistic to solve their current infertility problem.”

The man called Peter frowned as if she’d slapped him with her response. “And what is this strange word? Anachro…”

Tara cut him off. “It means most of his people follow the old ways. No electricity. No television. No cell phones. They still farm and even have a village blacksmith. They don’t have an Ordnung like St. Ailbe, but a lot of their males live exactly as they did hundreds of years ago. Just like you. And what’s more, they have actually chosen to live this way without a religious order.”

“Not just like us. They are outsiders,” Peter insisted, clutching a younger woman to his side as if he were afraid Tara had plans to kidnap her then and there. She had the same stubborn set to her chin as the man standing beside her but a much more pleasant face and flawless skin. A real beauty, Magnus noted, one that quite a few males in his village would be happy to woo.

“You are right. They are outsiders,” another woman said. She had pale skin, blue eyes, and a thin nose, but her heart-shaped faced and freckles resembled Tara’s enough for Magnus to guess she must be his mate’s mother. Also, the only other non-white person in the room stood beside her—a young woman with the same light brown skin and freckles as Tara, which must make her the younger sister Tara had mentioned.

“But as my daughter says, they are not like other outsiders,” Tara’s mother continued, confirming his suspicions. “Many live as we do. Without electricity or any of the other technologies we prefer to do without. And as my daughter has explained several times, they are Protestant, like ourselves.”

The mulish Peter turned to face Tara’s mother. “And you believe I should send my daughter to be wolf-mated in another country? Based on the word of a girl we haven’t seen in nearly a decade?”

“No, that is the opposite of what I’m proposing,” Tara responded, with more patience than Magnus could sense she really felt over their mate bond. “This would be a voluntary mail order bride and groom exchange. The potential brides and groom would communicate back and forth with one another via letters. And depending on what your daughters want, they can go to Scotland where Magnus and I will dedicate half of Faoltiarn to live by the rules of our Ordnung. Either that or Magnus and I could send a few grooms here to live with a host family, as my own outsider father did when he courted my mother. It would be similar to a foreign exchange program. Year-long and with no commitment from either side until the she-wolf goes into heat and names her mate. I want this program to alleviate both our problems, and perhaps, most importantly, put an end to the compulsory and problematic wolf mating program.”

“By God, that is a bloody good idea,” Lachlan whispered behind Magnus.

“I agree,” his mother whispered back. “I could not believe her clever thinking when she told me her plan on the plane ride over.”

“Some of us are fine with wolf mating,” a male wolf standing toward the front of the crowd called out. He was younger than many of the other bearded males in the room—maybe around the same age as Magnus and Tara. And the woman standing beside him had a baby in her arms. But the male held himself with authority as if his was the opinion that mattered most in this conversation “Many of our families, including my own, have come out of the mating program and we are happy as can be.”

Tara’s eyes suddenly flashed furious. “Well, I am glad you’re happy with the rule, Daniel. I imagine becoming St. Ailbe’s pack alpha when you wolf-mated our former alpha’s daughter helps with the feeling of contentedness you have towards a program that allows one male to choose the mate for all the unheated girls in this pack. However, if that program is so wonderful for everyone involved, then there should be no problem with switching it to a voluntary commitment.”

An uncomfortable shuffle spread across the room, mostly from the men.

But then another male suddenly shouted, “And how would they even get to Scotland? This country lies across the ocean, and our daughters cannot fly…”

“Our Ordnung says we can employ a driver to go great distances if a possible engagement is involved,” Danso pointed out from beside Magnus.

“And I could commission a private plane. It would transport the girls to the airport closest to Faoltiarn,” Tara explained. “Magnus’s younger brother is very wealthy, and he is committed to solving his kingdom town’s devastating infertility problem. I’m sure he’d fund the entire program if asked…”

It suddenly didn’t matter that Magnus didn’t quite understand who these people were or that he still felt like he’d walked into the middle of a TV program halfway through the episode. He strode around the crowd and came to stand beside his mate.

“I will personally vouch for my mate’s promise,” he assured the gathered crowd. “Whoever wishes to travel to my village in Scotland will receive a private plane ride over and will remain under my crown’s protection during the duration of her time in Scotland. And if she cannae find a mate she fancies, then I will fly her back to your land at my own expense. This I promise you, on my crown, as king of the Highland and East Scottish wolves…”

Tara turned to look up at him with soft eyes. “Thank you, Magnus,” she said inside his head.

“You are my mate,” he answered inside hers. “I support you—I will always support you in whatever you do.”

Not to mention, Lachlan was right. This was a bloody good idea. The males of his village were considered too auld-timey for most modern women. While the women of Tara’s pack wished to marry only those who’d eschewed modern amenities as they did. It was a perfect solution.

However, most of the males in the room did not seem to share Magnus’s conclusion. After he spoke, several more of them continued to call out their grievances with Tara’s plan. Getting louder and louder until the pack alpha stepped forward. He came to stand on the other side of Tara and silenced the group with a raised hand.

“Okay, my fellow wolves, I understand your reservations,” the pack’s alpha said, stepping in front of Tara and Magnus. “Few of us care for Tara’s proposal, and I, for one, did not expect this would be her big idea, when she told me she had a solution for our ongoing problem of carrying too many unheated girls. However, we are a democratic pack and it is in the Ordnung that if we agree to hear a proposal, it must be voted on. So, unless any of you have a question that has not been addressed or asked before, then we should end this discussion and put the matter to a vote.”

“Excuse me, I have a question…” a soft voice said.

The room turned to see a bonneted lass timidly raising her hand. She had bright eyes the color of Scottish bluebells, and a sweet face with a farm fresh complexion.

“Yes, Lissa?” the pack alpha answered, his tone gentle despite this latest vote-delaying question.

To Magnus’s surprise, the sweet-faced lass turned her gaze to him and shyly asked, “Are all the wolves in your village…” she cast her eyes to the side, seeming to struggle for the right word. Then she said, “…like you and your father?”

“Aye, we’re all Scottish,” he answered, not certain he understood the question.

Then his mother called out, “Si, si, most of the Faoltiarn males are very good looking.”

“However, as a pack, we put no weight in looks,” the young pack alpha announced, his tone derisive. “That would be prideful and vain and against our Ordnung.”

Perhaps that was the case, but nearly every young woman in the room had turned to look at Valentina, their faces filled with avid curiosity.

And much as Magnus himself would have done, Valentina continued on as if the pack alpha had not even spoken. “When I first met Magnus’s papa, I thought, ‘Why, that is the most attractive wolf I have ever seen!’ Molto bello…and so very tall and strong. Just bellisssssssimo!” Valentina exclaimed, swirling her head and throwing both hands up at the same time. “I could not believe it—no, I COULD NOT—when he shyly asked me for a date. Imagine my surprise when I arrived in his village after our heating and realized there were many more of these wolves just as handsome as he! If not for the rustic way they insist upon living, I am sure she-wolves would be chasing them down all the streets of Scotland.”

Every unheated woman in the room and a few mothers were now staring at Valentina with open mouths and eyes wide as saucers.

“Ahem…” The young pack alpha cleared his throat again and said, “Thank you for your comments but as I said, we’ve no care for appearances here in St. Ailbe. We are a humble pack and I’m sure our unheated daughters will not give your words further attention.”

To that, another young woman raised her hand. This time it was the daughter of the man who had shouted at Tara in German. “Do you mean to say all the Faoltiarn males are um…strong enough to farm…and…. ah… tall enough to reach things on high shelves that we cannot?” she asked Valentina.

Valentina’s whole body twisted as if she were winding herself up to give another overenthusiastic answer. But before she could respond to the girl’s question, the pack alpha called out, “Silence! Silence! The time for questions has concluded and now we will vote.”

As it turned out, the young women of the pack did not have nearly as much trouble with the idea of an exchange trip to a town in Scotland filled with brawny Highlanders as their fathers did. To both Tara and the pack males’ surprise, the vote she never expected to win but felt compelled to fight for ended in a landslide. All because Magnus showed up during the meeting.

Funny, she thought to herself as Daniel sullenly declared the vote results (after recounting, like, five times). She had been convinced there was no way she could complete this mission with Magnus. But in the end, she would never have won this vote without him standing by her side.