Magnus
Touching a king without being invited to do so. Tara punched me in the nose the very first day we met.
Refusing to bow when a king enters a room or comes within ten feet of passing. She’d only bowed once—right before she punched me in the nose.
Interrupting a king. Aye, she’d done that one so often I had already lost count of how many times she’d cut me off in the short time I’d known her.
Turning your back on a king and taking your leave without permission. Aye, she’d done those as well.
I felt well within my rights to cut through my she-wolf’s endless nonsense with a royal ultimatum. In truth, she deserved nothing less after how she’d treated me, the father of her unborn pup, and the ruler of the lands she lived and worked in.
But of all the ways I’d expected Tara to react to my ultimatum, running away and locking herself in the lavy hadn’t figured.
“I’ll give you the access codes to my flat, Ri Faol, but you’re going to cock this up.”
That’s what my brother had said when I called him on his satellite phone to demand the codes to his flat so I could retrieve our family heirloom.
My brother had grown up in Faoiltiarn, and despite having left for university nearly fifteen years ago, he still respected the auld ways, which meant he couldn’t turn down a request from his king.
However, after hearing what had passed between Tara and me, Iain had taken on the tone of a weatherman delivering news of an incoming storm.
“I’m chuffed not to have to take your crown, brother, but you’re going to cock this one up.
I know it. That Tara … she won’t give you an easy time.
I reckon that temper of yours combined with that temper of hers can only end in a full-on explosion. ”
Of course, I had refused to heed my brother’s words. But as Tara continued to ignore my commands to come out of the loo, Iain’s words floated back to me like a flock of geese on Loch Faoiltiarn.
“Magnus, you’re all ego, and Tara is a stubborn she-wolf who chooses to live among the humans. She doesn’t give one good feck about your crown or your rugby career and that means you’ll have to become a different person if you don’t want her to run out on you like Ma did Da.”
There was a good chance I would have kept right on ignoring my younger, much nerdier brother’s warnings. Kicked in the door or something along those lines. But that was before I heard the sound on the other side of the locked bathroom door—a sound that stopped me cold. Muffled weeping.
She was crying.
Like Ma left Da …
How many times had I heard that sound coming from the room my mother moved into that year before she left? Most often after she and Da had one of their legendary rows …
The sound shredded at my heart just like it had then. Even worse, actually.
Here I was, prepared to give my kingdom and fidelity to this she-wolf, but she only seemed to hate me more and more with each moment that passed between us …
I let out a long, low sigh. And instead of beating down the door, I slid onto the floor into a seated position against it.
And then, instead of listing out all the ways Tara had done me—and my crown— wrong, I said, “My mother left us the month before I started with the Edinburgh Rovers. Renounced her title and divorced my da.”
The muted weeping abruptly stopped.
“I don’t … I don’t expect you to understand,” I said quietly. “Your parents are still together so you wouldn’t know what it feels like to watch the family you grew up with fall apart…”
I trailed off, hating how weak my words made me feel.
Tara sniffed and said, “You’re right. I can’t imagine my parents divorcing. Ever. In fact, I’d never met a divorced wolf before your dad. However, I do know a thing or two about families suddenly falling apart. That … that must have been hard for you.”
I heard pity in her voice. And it rankled, just like the piteous looks the servants and villagers gave me after my mother left.
Divorce was almost unheard of among Scottish wolves and it was without record in my own village.
Wolves mated for life. But as it turned out, my Italian mother decided that rule didn’t apply to her. Just like….
“You’re going to cock it up,” my brother warned again before I could go in the direction my ego and pride were pushing me.
I finally reasoned that Tara’s pity was better than her tears.
“Aye, it wasn’t a good time for any of us.
My father nearly went mad, and Iain went off to university in Edinburgh.
He leased a flat in the city and only came back to Faoiltiarn for full moon nights.
So, I essentially lost him, too. And as for my da, well, it was like watching the sinking of a great ship.
He was a wreck. Refused to eat … couldn’t sleep …
wouldn’t speak to anyone about anything except how my mother broke his heart.
How he’d known from the start this would happen.
How he never should have mated her in the first place because nothing was worth the pain of her leaving. ”
I let out a harsh breath. “I had all the swords and guns removed from our castle and stored at the blacksmith’s home for fear of what he might do to himself while I was out on the road.
Da said he didn’t desire the crown any longer.
Gave it over to me without so much as a ceremony.
But I also had my rugby career to attend to, and my mother had spent a great deal of our funds modernizing the ground floor of our castle before she decided what she really wanted was a divorce.
That left my rugby income as the only way to replenish our kingdom’s funds aside from selling off our treasures. ”
This time when Tara spoke, her voice sounded clearer and less waterlogged. “That sounds overwhelming. How old were you?”
“Ah, I reckon twenty or thereabouts.”
She made a thoughtful noise. “When I was twenty, I was still trying to figure out if I should major in Finance or Computer Software Engineering. I can’t imagine running an entire kingdom.”
“Dinnae feel sorry for me, Tara,” I insisted.
“It has been a privilege. The truth is my subjects … my people … were there when the rest of my family couldnae be. They’re loyal and hardworking and no matter how we look to outsiders, you’ll never meet better wolves than those in Faoiltiarn.
I’m grateful for my crown and I cherish my people.
I see other guys my age in the rugby club…
they blow a knee or take a bad concussion and life is over for them because rugby is all they have.
But I have something more. A purpose. I’m not telling you my story to gain your pity, but because I want you to ken why I’m like this.
You deserve an explanation for my behavior. ”
“Okay, I see,” she said in a small voice. “I understand—more than you probably expect. And … well, thank you for telling me.”
“You’re welcome.” I paused … waiting to see if she might have anything to say on her behalf. The silence stretched out for over a minute before I spoke up. “I am wondering if you might have an explanation to give me?”
Tara snorted. “Are you trying to ask, ‘who hurt you, Tara?’”
Despite her derisive tone, I answered truthfully, “Aye, I am indeed. You’re my mate, and I desire to understand you.”
She was quiet for a long while. So long, I wondered if she would answer at all.
There was more rustling on the other side of the door.
Then she said, “I’m not one of your groupies—or even one of your village she-wolves.
I realize my life with the humans doesn’t seem like much to you, but I love my human job, my human co-workers, and my human friends.
And it might sound crazy to you, but I’m especially fond of my wardrobe.
Every dress … every pair of shoes I own is a reminder of how hard I fought to get where I am today.
But then you come along and … you make me feel trapped.
Like I have no choices and the part of my story that happened before you arrived doesn’t really matter at all … ”
Anger rose inside of me again. What did she know about fighting? With her loving parents and her permissive, do-what-you-like upbringing.
You’re going to cock it up…
Iain’s warning sounded inside my head again. And, I took a deep breath and forced myself to listen, just listen as she continued on…
“You probably think I had the perfect life back in Canada, and you’re right. Kind of. I was happy, and I really did have a great childhood … idyllic even. But our pack … it has a mandatory wolf-mating program. Do you know what that is?”
My jaw ticked. I wasn’t sure how to answer. Tara appeared to sense my hesitation. “Do you guys have one of your own?”
“For a little while, aye,” I answered. “But my mother was against it, and then there was the exodus of young she-wolves from our village before my da could fully implement it, which only worsened our infertility issue. In the end, we never went through with it.”
She sighed. “Okay, well, where I come from it’s pretty common. My parents were wolf-mated. So was my older sister. My younger sister probably will be, too, any day now. It’s considered the easiest way to avoid a she-wolf going into her heat cycle with someone…inappropriate.”
My chest tightened at the thought of Tara, the only female my wolf had ever stood up for, being mated to anyone but me. “But you were the exception,” I pointed out to both her and my wolf. “You weren’t wolf-mated, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“No, I was wolf-mated—when I was eighteen…”
She trailed off, but hell if I was going to let her stop there. My she-wolf had been given to another?
“And where is this mate now?” I demanded. There would be a battle to the death if any other male stepped forward with a prior claim on my banrigh.