Alban
The she-wolf had followed me into the coop. I gripped my hands tight around the basket of eggs I’d started pulling before she invaded my hidey-hole.
She was here. With me. No longer sleeping. She was standing in front of me. Wearing my kilt.
My kilt.
Images of me throwing her to the ground and covering her soft, curvy body with mine flooded into my head. Turning my cock to stone.
“Get out.”
I hurled the words from the shadows like a coward lobbing a grenade.
She stilled. Like a small animal of prey.
“Yes, yes, of course, I’ll get out,” she said, her voice shaking with fear. “First, I need to um … um …”
To my horror, instead of turning tail to dash away, she stepped further into the coop. Coming closer and closer.
The she-wolf feared me. Yet, she didn’t run when I told her to get out. She stepped closer. Proving what I’d suspected when she dared to follow me in here.
She had no clue. Not a single idea what she did to my wolf.
If she kent that, she wouldn’t have enclosed herself into a small space with me. Much less stepped even closer when I told her to get out.
My wolf slammed against my chest, and my breathing turned even rougher as her scent filled my nose.
“Dorie didn’t tell me you also had a chicken coop.” She was trying to level out her voice. But it didn’t work. The tremble remained as she added, “It’s much nicer than the one we keep at home.”
Home. She still considered the house she’d shared with that Joshua tadger home.
My wolf shuddered inside of me. Take her. Claim her. SHOW HER.
I silently begged her to run. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold myself back.
But she didn’t run. She kept coming forward. Getting closer and closer. To me.
Didn’t she understand how dangerous that was? “You’re wearing my kilt.”
I didn’t realize I’d spoken the words out loud until she said, “Yes, I hope that’s okay. I needed something other than a t-shirt for the trip to Faoiltiarn.”
She glanced down at the red, black, and blue tartan she’d fastened with a carabiner to make it fit around her waist. It hung so long on her that it reached her mid-calf. With the two braids wound around her head, she could’ve been mistaken for a schoolmarm in ill-fitting gear.
That didn’t stop my heart from beating like a drum, though.
She’s wearing your kilt, my wolf whispered inside of me.
She doesnae ken. I told my wolf, told myself that this was a cultural misunderstanding. The same as I didn’t know the ways of her Canadian pack, she didn’t know what wearing a man’s kilt signified in Faoiltiarn.
“Is it okay?” she asked again, her voice tentative and careful.
No, it wasn’t okay. My wolf was about to explode out of my chest. But I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. I could only hold myself back.
“Obviously not,” she muttered to herself when I didn’t reply. “Now, I definitely owe you breakfast.”
She peeped up at me, her wolf eyes glowing a yellowish white to see me in the darkness. “Any requests other than eggs? Do you like them cooked a certain way?”
So that was why she’d come forward instead of running away? For the eggs. She was planning to cook. For me!
My wolf panted inside my chest, even as my human said, “I’ll heat the stew from last night when I return to the cottage.”
“Oh, we can do better than that,” she insisted. “Ooh, did you already pull some eggs?”
She reached out for the basket I’d forgotten I was still gripping. Took it from me before I could think to hold on to it.
“They’re so big and gorgeous!” She looked down at the basket’s contents as if she’d found a load of treasure. “You’ll have to give me some feed tips before we leave.”
“Castle’s got servants to do all that shite for you,” I bit out between clenched teeth.
“Wow, Tara has servants?” Her voice took on a less confident note. “She didn’t mention that in her letter.”
I reached out to take the basket from her. “I’ll make my own eggs.”
She yanked the basket back before I could take it off of her. “The least I can do is make you breakfast before I go. Plus, I’m feeling a little stir-crazy after doing nothing but eating and sleeping for days straight.”
“I don’t want you making me breakfast.” The lie came out on a growl. “I dinnae fash how bored you are. That’s not something I want from you.”
With that, I reached forward to grab the basket from her.
But instead of letting me take it, she dropped it and shrank back, crossing both arms over her face.
She thought …
My insides turned to ice with the realization. She thought I was going to hit her.
Well, that was one way to calm my wolf the feck down. The lust I’d been battling against since she entered the coop disappeared in an instant. Replaced by crushing guilt.
“Female …” My stomach was a bog. “Put down your arms.”
She didn’t lower her arms. Or answer me. Just trembled like a rabbit.
Her visible fear infuriated me. I had to swallow down the instinct to travel to Canada and dig "Benefactor" Joshua up from his grave just to end him all over again.
Instead, I risked stepping closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder the same as I would a spooked horse.
“Dorie told me what brought you here. The entire story. She told me.” The truth came out like a confession.
I didn’t even ken her name, but I needed her to understand, “You’re safe with me.
From the moment I saw you were a mother with a little girl, you were safe.
I won’t ever hurt you. Do you hear me? I wouldn’t do that—to any female. Home invader or not, I would never …”
I closed my eyes, momentarily overcome with anger about what her so-called Benefactor had done to her.
“I will not lay hands on you, female," I told her as calmly as I could. "Ever.”
She stopped trembling. Then, slowly … carefully … came out of her fearful crouch.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice small and broken.
An urge to tell her there was nothing to be sorry about came over me. I understood better than most the instinct to flinch. Even when the threat of violence was a continent away. But my anger at her former male was such that I couldn’t open my mouth to speak for fear of what would come out.
“How much … how much did Dorie tell you?” Her voice trembled with another kind of fear now. “Did she tell you how Joshua died?”
I weighed pretending I only kent so much. Still hated lies, though, and the fecking liars who told them. Gail’s face floated through my memory like a balloon filled with poison.
“Aye, she told me all about it,” I reported the story as I heard it without emotion. “Your Benefactor didn’t come out so well when he faced down Dorie’s fire poker. Literally.”
“It wasn’t her fault,” she rushed to explain.
“He was trying to put my writing hand in the fire to reprimand me for trying to contact my sister. Dorie grabbed the fire poker, and her aim was tragically fatal—straight through his eye. I swear she’s not a bad person. She was only trying to protect me.”
The same as the mother was trying to protect her daughter. I noted she didn’t appear to care too much about the death of the father.
Because she’s yours, my wolf growled inside of me. She’s always been yours. Claim her. Take her. Cover her with your scent so that every male understands who she belongs to now.
“Dinnae worry about judgment here,” I said, ignoring my wolf. “Dorie’s a hero for running that bastard through. I told her that myself.”
The female lowered her glowing gaze. “That’s kind of you to say. But if you could keep what she told you to yourself. I don’t want my sister and other people judg—”
She broke off and her face filled with horror when she noticed the basket lying between our feet. The eggs she’d thought so big and gorgeous lay scattered about the dirt ground. Some had cracked. Others lay broken.
“I’m so sorry!” She dropped to her knees to set the basket right.
“You dinnae have to do that,” I said as she put the salvageable eggs back in the basket.
“I can’t believe I broke them after everything I forced you to do for us. And after I took your clothes …” She grabbed at the eggs, checking them as if they were nuclear fusion rods. “You must hate me. I’m so sorry.”
Something cracked in my chest, watching her. And I dropped into a crouch myself. To help her with the eggs. Also, to tell her, “I shouldnae raised my voice like that. But Female—Female, please leave the eggs and look at me.”
She hesitated. I could just about see that mind of hers turning over back and forth. Eventually, though, she dragged her gaze up to meet mine.
I immediately regretted asking for her eyes. Even with the glow, I could see the worry in her soft gaze, and I couldn’t stand it.
“Female …” I made my voice a wee bit softer. “I reckon it’s time for you to tell me your name.”
She stared at me. Then let out a sound that was almost a laugh. Almost. “It’s Leora.”
“Leora.” Her name tasted good on my tongue. Much better than “Female.”
I repeated it a few times in my head before getting to my point. “You can trust me, Leora. I don’t … I don’t want you to fear me.”
“I’m not afraid of …” She trailed off on that obvious lie. “It’s just, I know you don’t like me—or want people in your cabin. And that’s why I was trying to make you breakfast. But then I made you angry. And broke your eggs. And I just don’t know how to make it all up to you.”
Make it all up to you.
Did I think my lust conquered? My wolf surged inside of me. Tell her to present herself to you on her hands and knees. Tell her to take your claim. Rut her in the dirt. Make her yours!
“I’m so sorry,” she said, mistaking the reason for my answering silence.
“Stop apologizing,” I commanded.
“You have to let me …” she said.
Why wouldn’t she heed? I didn’t want to scare her, but she didn’t understand what she did to me. The thoughts her innocent words put into my head.
“Not one more word,” I warned her through gritted teeth.
“But—”
I lost the battle with my wolf in an instant.
One moment we were picking up eggs, and the next, she was underneath me. My lips crashing down on hers.
I devoured her mouth and wedged myself between her legs, pinning her with my crushing weight.
Her arms came up to grip the sides of my shoulders. But instead of pushing me away, she moaned. She moaned into my kiss. Opened her mouth wider. Let me in as easily as an unlocked door. Like someone who truly belonged to me. Like a mate. Holy feck.
I was desperate, so desperate to ride her.
Only the fabric of my tartan and the one she’d taken without permission kept my wolf from what it wanted most. To devour her, to mark her with my scent.
To claim her so thoroughly every other male would know who she belonged to upon her arrival in Faoiltiarn.
Me. And me alone.
“Maem? Maem? Alban? Where are you?”
Reality crashed back down, and I reared up at the sound of Dorie’s voice. Then let out a breath of relief when I realized it was coming from far in the distance.
However, that relief became short-lived when I looked back down at the female beneath me.
She lay on the dirt floor, her expression glossy and confused. As if a wagon had hit her.
Or like she’d been mauled by a wolf who couldn’t control himself.
Self-disgust filled my stomach like a lead balloon.
“I have nae laid with a female in quite a while,” I said. “Too long. It made me lose control. I shouldnae have …”
Liar! My wolf roared inside me. Only her. No other female has ever affected you like this!
“Go to your daughter.” I climbed to my feet and pushed down my wolf. Yet again. “She spooks when she thinks we’ve left her alone.”
As if to prove my point, Dorie called out again, “Maem? Alban? Are you out here? I’m sorry for how I acted earlier!”
She sounded scared, and this time, her mother didn’t hesitate.
Leora grabbed the basket and scurried out of the chicken house.
“Here I am, my love,” she called out, her voice breathless. “Alban was just helping me grab some eggs for breakfast.”
Aye, Leora was impossibly innocent. She was also an exemplary mother, a good she-wolf through and through.
Too innocent and good for me. I watched her hold up the basket like evidence as she rushed toward Dorie, who was standing on the cottage’s front steps.
Then the coop’s door closed back on its automatic hinge.
Leaving me there alone. With my raging erection, a howling wolf, and a blizzard of emotions I shouldn’t be feeling.