Compromising Positions (25 page)

“What’s yer business?” Donal asked with a sigh as Aiden and Angus argued their way into the room, Lorien following close behind. “’Tis startin’ to feel like a circus in ’ere.”

“Ye were drunker than I was, man,” Aiden protested. “Why d’ye think I won at dice?”

“Ye did’na win, ye cheated,” Angus snorted. “An’ I wan’me money back.”

“Nuh, I would’ve known if he was cheatin’,” Lorien replied. “A wulver can spot a cheater a mile away, at least.”

“’Tis true,” Darrow agreed, leaning against the door frame. “We’re also vera good at cheatin’, if we wanna be.”

“T’was ye then!” Angus pointed a finger at Lorien. “Ye were cheatin’ fer ’im! How much did he pay ye outta d’winnin’s?”

“Do’na lookit me!” Lorien laughed, holding up his hands. “I do’na need yer worthless coins. I’m a wulver, remember?”

“Face it, Angus, ye’re jus’ not a winner.” Darrow grinned at the man, who glowered at all of them. “Let’s g’back out on the archery range, eh? I’d be happy t’beat ye again. This time we can wager on it…”

“I would’na lost if I was half-wolf either,” Angus snorted over his shoulder at the wulver, pulling something from the pocket of his plaid, handing it to Donal. “This came fer ye.”

“Yer half wild boar, but that does’na seem t’help ye.” Darrow laughed.

“Sounds like wulver-human relations are improvin’ a’ready,” Kirstin giggled, looking over Donal’s shoulder at the scroll.

Her heart stopped when she saw it had the king’s seal. Moira glanced at it and saw too.

“Mayhaps ye should go along wit’ King Henry and nullify t’wolf pact,” Angus joked. “So I can drive these dogs back t’their kennels where they belong a’fore they give all the MacFalons fleas, eh?”

“The only flea-bitten dog ’ere is ye, Angus MacFalon,” Moira said with a laugh, already shooing the two big, bearded men out the door. “Now, out wit’ ye!”

Darrow snickered at that and Moira, who had no qualms about who ran the castle, smacked his bottom with a tray.

“Ye, too, dog! Out!” She threatened him with a tray over the head and he backed away through the door, still laughing. “I do’na care if yer a wulver or the Lord of the Wild Hunt ’imself, ye’all need to clear out. I’ve got patients t’heal before I’m called t’me own death, ye ken?”

“A’righ’!” Darrow agreed, pulling his wife into his arm. “But I’m takin’ m’wife wit’ me!”

“Take this one, too!” Moira waved Lorien out with her tray and he avoided being smacked by it—just barely—as he slipped out, all the men snickering at Moira’s dramatic, but effective, display. She shut the door behind them with a sigh.

“That’s that, then,” she announced, fanning her red face with the tray. “I’ll leave ye alone t’eat yer breakfast. Call if ye need me?”

“Aye, thank ye,” Kirstin said, meeting the old woman’s smiling eyes. Moira knew what was in the scroll, just as well as they did.

At least, she hoped.

When Moira had gone out Kirstin looked at Donal, feeling a lump in her throat that was hard to swallow past.

“From t’king?” she asked and he just nodded.

She noticed Donal’s hand shook slightly as he broke the seal and she felt cold, in spite of the fire in the fireplace.

“Wait.” She put her hand over his. “Donal… what if…?”

“I told ye, lass.” His blue-grey eyes were clear, shining with love. “Yer mine, n’matter what. I’ll fight for ye, I’ll die fer ye, I’ll—”

She kissed him, feeling the soft, full press of his lips against hers, a promise more powerful than any king’s proclamation.

Kirstin covered her face with her hands as Donal opened it and began to read. She couldn’t read the words anyway, and even if she could, they meant nothing.

Nothing except freedom or death. Nothing except peace or war. Nothing except her love or pain. Nothing. And everything.

“Kirstin…” he whispered her name, trying to peek through her fingers.

“Nuh. I can’na.” Her voice was muffled, her tears—they seemed to come so easily lately, now that she had no wulver left in her—stinging her eyes.

“Kirstin, look a’me.” She dropped her hands, feeling her mouth trembling as he cupped her face. “Yer mine. I do’na need any man’s permission.”

“He denied it again,” she whispered, feeling a heavy weight tugging on her heart.

She had visions of war, King Henry’s men marching to the borderlands, facing off against her whole family, all of them, the MacFalons and the wulvers, the green, velvet hills of her homeland running with blood. She could lose them all, in one horrible, bloody battle, simply because the English king was afraid a wulver might claim the right to his precious throne.

“Nuh, lass.” Donal pressed his mouth to hers and a fat, salty tear slipped between their lips. “King Henry’s granted the dispensation. As a thank ye fer exposin’ Lord Eldred’s treason, King Henry’s given up all rights to the MacFalon lands.”

“Ye do’na hafta marry an Englishwoman?”

“Accordin’ t’this, James IV of Scotland’s s’posed t’marry King Henry VII’s daughter, Margaret Tudor some time this year.”

“Looks like t’king’s gettin’ serious ’bout marryin’ t’border.” Kirstin’s eyes widened. “What else does it say?”

“This says I’m free to choose me own bride.”

“Free.” She repeated the word softly, saying it out loud, hardly believing it could be true.

“Aye.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Free t’choose—and I choose ye, Kirstin MacFalon.”

Kirstin MacFalon.
Hearing him say it out loud gave her a little thrill of pleasure.

“Are ye sure?” She swallowed, feeling doubt now that there were suddenly no barriers at all between them. “Even if I’m… not quite a woman, and not quite a wulver?”

“Och! Ye’ve always been all woman, lass.” He laughed, grabbing their tray of food and setting it aside on the bedside stand. He moved his body over hers, stretching her out beneath him, and she welcomed his delightful heat and weight, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I told ye, nothin’ could keep me from ye.” His mouth claimed hers, hands roaming over her body, carefully avoiding her wound. They’d slept in the same bed for a week, but had been warned not to engage in any ‘strenuous behavior’ by Laina, their resident nursemaid, and Donal had taken her at her word, no matter how much Kirstin begged him to take her.

“E’en if ye were a star up in the heavens, I’d reach ye,” he whispered against her throat, his big, calloused hand moving over her hip. “And make ye mine.”

“I’m much closer than that.” She took his hand and pressed it between her legs, rocking against it, moaning softly. “And I burn hotter, too…”

“Aye, ye do.” He slipped two fingers into her heat and she gasped.

“But e’en if I was a star…” Her hand traced over the sloped hills and valleys of his belly, tracing that dark line of hair down from his navel to find him oh-so-hard and ready for her. “Ye could still reach me wit’ this…”

He chuckled as he shifted his weight fully onto her.

“Yer a thousand times brighter and more beautiful than any star, m’love,” he murmured. “And I’m t’luckiest man in the world, because I don’t have to look up into t’sky to see ye.”

“Nay, ye jus’ have t’look in yer bed,” she laughed, putting her arms around his neck. She would never, ever tire of this. Making love with him was the deepest, best expression of who she was.

“Nay, lass.” His breath was hot in her ear, and she realized with a little thrill that this was the first time they would make love as man and woman, free and unencumbered. “T’only place I’ll e’er have t’look fer ye is in m’heart.”

She met his gaze, smiling.

He was such an extraordinary man, who said such extraordinary things.

And he was hers.

Kirstin gave a little cry as his mouth laid claim to her first. She felt him, throbbing against her, seeking entrance, their hearts beating hard and fast together.

She knew she would burn for this man forever.

Kirstin parted her thighs to welcome him home.

The End

I hope you enjoyed reading Kirstin and Donal’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The world of the wulvers and the MacFalons has really come alive for me, and there is one more book in the series left to see where things end up. I know you all remember the mention of the prophecy and the red wulver from the epilogue in the first Highland Wolf Pact—and it’s time to find out just what happens with Raife and Sibyl’s son, Griffith!

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HIGHLAND WOLF PACT: BLOOD REIGN – BUY NOW!

By Selena Kitt

Bridget was an orphan raised by wulvers in a secluded wilderness temple to be its priestess and guardian, but now the outside world has found her and her world will be changed forever. Being suddenly swept up in ancient prophecies and ancestral blood feuds is bad enough, but fighting off the desire ignited in her heart by the proud and arrogant wulver warrior, Griffith, the only man who has ever defeated her in battle, may prove to be her greatest battle yet…

When you’re the son of the wulver pack leader, and your father isn’t about to roll over and show you his belly, life is tough enough. But when you’re the Red Wulver, future King of the Blood Reign Prophecy, it’s hard to know your own heart, let alone who to trust while trying to be the liberator of your people. Just as you finally take your fate into your own hands you’ve got your father, the pack leader, hot on your trail and you run headlong into a deadly ancient enemy you never even knew you had.

And in the midst of the chaos you crash into the aggravating, infuriating and impossibly beguiling Bridget, the one obstacle in your path you’re not sure you want to overcome…