Epilogue
ALBAN
A few weeks after that fateful Boxing Day, I awoke to the best dream.
It could only be a dream. When I opened my eyes, I found myself back at the Brother’s Cottage, lying in bed with the she-wolf I’d been trying to resist ever since she transformed into a luscious female on top of my bed.
But here she was, waking me up with a hand on my cock. “Good morning, mo ghràidh.”
Mo ghràidh—my love. The two words coming from her beautiful mouth would have melted me if not for the way she was stroking my cock.
As it was, I became concrete in her hand.
“I realized I forgot to give you your wedding present last night …” She rose up to her knees. But continued stroking my length in her warm hand as she repositioned herself between my legs, her hair two thick curtains of curls hanging over her shoulders. “I hope it’s not too late.”
Aye, this had to be a dream. I was the one who always woke her up. Not the other way around. And it could not be possible that this gorgeous she-wolf was really my wife. If so, her troth was the only wedding present I needed.
She began kissing her way down my stomach before I could tell her that though. Soft, sweet touches of her lips, until she reached my manhood … and took my fat cock with one long swallow.
I was not ready for the feel of her hot mouth around my shaft, the bottom of her hand still stroking. And I was wholly unprepared for the mate bond. I could feel what she felt—the way her lips stretched to accommodate me, almost to the point of pain.
But the pain didn’t matter to her, I could tell.
She could feel what I felt while she was doing this to me.
All my lust, all my pleasure. And that made her even more greedy.
She licked and sucked, instinctively relaxing the back of her throat to take in more of my length.
Ravenous to feel even more of what I was feeling.
Nae, this wasn’t a dream. I knew that now because our mate bond was fully open—on both sides.
Everything that happened on Boxing Day came back to me in a flash.
Losing Leora, then discovering what she’d done.
Carefully closing the mate bond so that she wouldnae have to feel what I did to her ex.
Or my utter glee at every punch I landed, every bone I cracked until he finally died.
Most likely to get away from me.
But that was the last time I closed my mate bond to her. After making the necessary calls to my old Black ops contacts, I came back downstairs and took my family back to Faoiltiarn in one of the kingdoms Land Rovers.
And after my mate got our daughter safely tucked back into her bed, I took her behind closed doors and opened my side of the bond to her. No more holding back. I let her see. All my crazy. All my violence. All my love.
And she’d looked up at me with tears in her eyes.
“My hero,” she whispered for reasons I still couldn’t comprehend. “Thank you.”
The New Year’s Day wedding followed exactly as planned.
And now here we were at Brother’s Cottage, bucking its “males only” tradition after deciding this was the only place we wanted to go for our honeymoon. Together.
Still, one month into our wide-open bond, I was second-guessing my decision to let her in. This was too much.
I didn’t even have to guide her head. She knew exactly what to do to increase my pleasure. Until it became too intense. Until it hurt so bad, I had no choice but to explode in her mouth.
I arched off the bed and froze there, paralyzed by my own ecstasy, which was amplified by my mate’s sense of triumph as she swallowed my load. I could feel her pride at making me lose control as if it were my own.
“I hope you like your wedding present,” she said, lying back down beside me after she was done. Her naughty smile confirmed my growing suspicion that my innocent little wife was turning into a complete vixen.
Nonetheless, I turned my head to look her straight in the eye and tell her, “Best wedding present any wolf on earth has ever got.”
She ducked her head, a little bit of that easy embarrassment poking through her new naughty wife persona.
“For somebody with a reputation for being so mean and grumpy, you always exaggerate your compliments,” she teased.
“You think I’m exaggerating?” I threw back the covers to reveal my manhood, standing straight up between my legs. “Get on, wife. I’ll show you how serious I am.”
Her eyes widened. “Seriously? You’re ready to go again.”
I returned her shocked look without an ounce of remorse. “I definitely was nae exaggerating when I told you I have a problem when it comes to ye. Can’t say I didn’t warn ye.”
“No, I can’t say that at all,” she agreed, giving in with a sweet smile.
She climbed on, but only for a little while. She didn’t mind riding, but a slight longing over the mate bond let me know she wanted to be taken—claimed again beyond a shadow of a doubt. She wanted the beast she dreamed about, even after a whole night of lovemaking.
As we say in Scotland, nae bother. Nae bother at all.
I rolled her underneath me and shoved her arms above her head. Vicing her wrists in one large hand, I began to take her dirty.
This wasn’t nice sex. It was nasty words whispered over our mate bond about knowing what my naughty wife needed and how I was the only one ever allowed to give it to her. Now and forever.
It was looking her straight in the eye with all my crazy shining bright as I took her rough, shoving my cock into that secret spot deep inside her that made her entire body light up with electric pleasure.
This was one hundred percent my beast, fueled by barely controlled obsession.
“Oh, Alban, I love you!” she cried out, despite my ruthless domination. “I love you so much. I still can’t believe this is real.”
And that’s what snapped the last thin thread of my control. Her words were such a perfect reflection of how I felt, my strokes became sloppy.
I let go of her wrists and fell on top of her, gathering her into a tight greedy hug. I became a wild, desperate beast, babbling Gaelic into her ear.
“My wife. My love. You’re mine forever!” I bellowed out loud, leaving the translation to our mate bond.
“Good!” she cried back over our bond. “I want to be yours forever. Take me, Alban. Claim your she-wolf over and over again for the rest of our lives.”
With her words, we climaxed together, our mate bond swelling and then bursting into a bright spray of light. It was a typically grey day, but the sunshine of our love for each other filled the entire cabin up.
Until somebody pounded on the door.
“Alban! Alban! It’s me!” Iain’s voice sounded on the other side of the door. “Open up!”
To say I was not happy with the interruption was an understatement.
I rolled off my wife to yell back, “Scram before I grab my rifle and make you go away!”
However, Leora immediately scrambled out of bed and started throwing on her tartan dress.
“He wouldn’t have come all the way out here if it wasn’t important,” she pushed into my head.
At the same time, Iain yelled, “Do ye think I would have hiked my arse up here in my city shoes if it wasn’t important? I would’ve burst already in if I hadn’t smelled you two doing something I knew you wouldn’t want me to see.”
Fine …
With a heavy sigh, I pulled on a kilt and wrenched open the cottage door.
“What the feck is it th …?” I started to demand.
Only to trail off when I saw the picture Iain was holding up in one of his hands.
It was a black and white printout—airport security camera footage of two men sporting shaggy hair and bushy beards. After a few squinting moments, I recognized them as Declan McMahon and Cian Mahoney, two of the three Irish billionaires Iain said he couldn’t locate at Christmas supper.
He’d located them alright. Hiding out if their new look was any indication. And even more shocking than that, one of the kidnapped St. Ailbe brides was swiftly being escorted somewhere between them.
“Is that?” My wife had come to stand beside me at the door, and she, too, squinted at the picture. “I haven’t seen her since she was a little older than Dorie, but that looks like …”
“Aye, it is,” I agreed, cutting her off. And that meant our honeymoon was over.
I flicked my eyes up to Iain to ask one question. “Where?”
“You’re not going to believe this,” Iain answered, his face a storm of anger. “The one place it would never have occurred to us to look for them.
He shook his head and bit out, “Canada. They’re in Canada.”
Whaaattt????
Thank you SO much for reading the final book in the Scottish Wolves trilogy!
But here's the thing—that scene you just read isn't the end. It's a new beginning.
The saga of what happened to those kidnapped brides picks up in HER IRISH WOLVES.
Real talk: I cannot WAIT to introduce you to these Irish Shifters.
Fair warning: This series is all "why choose," and the heat level is "glass of cold water required while reading."
So, if you’re totally ready for heroes who will do anything to make you their mate….